A/N: This chapter is a wee bit NSFW, hence the upped rating. Just a heads up.

...-...

Cullen lay on his back, hands behind his head, a contemplative frown on his face as he stared up at the ceiling. He'd explained everything he knew to Katrina. When he'd gotten to the Lowlanders, she'd grown more alert, asking him a million questions he hadn't answers for. Could they describe the fighting style? Had they seen hair color, eye color, skin color? Anything telling? Did they look like assassins, perhaps? What kind of accents? How did they speak certain words? Did they sound like her? Like Fereldens? Like something else?

Cullen had promised that she would have an audience with Grim, once he was back from his latest scouting mission. He'd also promised that they would keep her safe, no matter what was to come. Throughout his explanations, she'd made a few snappy comments about his forgetfulness, but by the end of the conversation, she was apologizing for having worried him, as well.

It took him half the ride back to the hold to muster the courage to offer that he was more than happy to have her share his bed again. There had been a definite, rosy dusting to her cheeks as she'd nodded. Neither of them had seemed to know where to go from there, so she'd finally asked him more about Asmund.

Once they were safely within the hold's walls again, responsibilities had caught up, and Katrina had excused herself to at least try to get through some of the reading she'd shirked.

That had been hours ago.

Now, despite being beyond tired, Cullen couldn't fall asleep. He was thinking about what she'd said about being stolen. It meant something different for her than it did for him, and it should have been obvious. He should have figured that out earlier. It felt juvenile that he'd been as upset about it has he had been, and part of him wanted to apologize for that—all he did today seemed to be apologize to her—but another part of him just wanted to add that to the list of things not to bring up.

He had a list now. Lovely.

Even as he closed his eyes, trying to blank his mind so that sleep would claim him, he heard soft footsteps. He lifted his head as Katrina paused on the other side of the bed, peering at him in the darkness to see if he was already asleep. He stretched his hand out to her, and she promptly flopped down onto the bed, clasping his in both of hers and holding it against her heart.

"Cullen."

"Hmm?"

"I meant it, earlier," she said. After a pause, she shifted a little closer to him. "You're not a failure. I don't think you're incapable or anything."

"You made that clear," he murmured, rolling onto his side so that he could see her better.

"But you thought that was what I meant?"

"I…did not consider how strongly you felt about being 'owned'." He considered it a moment and then added, "The Avvar have never bowed to outside rule, and it sounds like your Free Marches are equally strong willed. If you're any indication, anyway."

"Flatterer," Katrina squeezed his hand. He pulled his hand free and then reached out, drawing her to him and wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled against him, and he smiled, feeling her breath on his skin. He'd missed this. How could it have only been two days?

As he felt Katrina's breathing evening out, he thought back to one of the other issues that had been plaguing him. If she'd had the courage to breach something so touchy as she had today, surely he could as well. "Stay with me here, at the hold." He felt her head tilt back. He angled his down so that he could look at her. "Or do I have to steal you from yourself first?"

She smiled at that, a sight he'd sorely missed. Propping herself up, she looked down at him, some of her hair falling over her shoulders. "I want to, but I have to finish what I started. I have to make the Comte pay. Even if he wasn't behind my attempted assassination or sabotaging the Avvar, he was behind Amelia's running away. She deserves justice, and I won't let her be denied." She broke his gaze, letting hers wander down. "If I thought you could, I'd ask you to come with me." As he took in a sharp breath, surprised by the simplicity of her admission, she forced a laugh. "Don't worry. I know you can't leave your hold."

"You could come back then, when everything is over," Cullen offered. When Katrina looked back up at him, he tilted his head. "Perhaps I could send Rosalie or Branson with you. They could help you find your way back. And Rosalie would love to see the Lowlands."

"I…" Katrina flopped back against him, pressing her face against his shoulder. "I don't know that I can show her the Lowlands of your stories. With my family ties severed, I won't have much in the way of favors or means to stay in even remotely comfortable inns. She'd be seeing the side of my world that we rather try to hide, even from ourselves."

"That bad?"

"You would be appalled at the level of debauchery that goes on in the Lowlands. And since we'd have to go back to Orlais, it'll be even worse than most places. Except for maybe Kirkwall," Katrina mused, absently tracing patterns across Cullen's chest. "Kirkwall is such an awful place."

"You've mentioned that before." Cullen smiled, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of her fingertips against his skin.

"Well, it's true. They call us pretentious, but that's just because they're mad that we aren't constantly on fire like they are."

Cullen opened an eye to peer down at her. "On fire?"

"Always," Katrina murmured. Her voice sounded a little like she was starting to drift to sleep. "That city is always burning. If it wasn't a port, people would have given up on it years ago." She was silent a moment before mumbling against him, "At least, that's what mother always used to say."

"You never saw these ever burning fires yourself?" Speaking of this Kirkwall reminded Cullen of Garrett, though he couldn't quite place why.

"No…" Katrina's voice was contemplative as she added, "So maybe it's not as bad as she always said. She was always saying I was the bane of the household, and I don't think I was that bad."

Cullen ran his fingers up her arm slowly before burying them in her hair. Tilting his head, he pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. "You're a little wild, but nothing bad."

"Says the Wildman."

Cullen couldn't help but grin. "I take it back. You must be a terror in the Lowlands."

"Most definitely. Harbinger of Chaos was my brothers' favorite nickname for me."

"Still, though…Chaos is not always a bad thing."

"You just think that because you fancy me," Katrina whispered. She stretched up and playfully nipped his neck. "Which is good, since I'm rather fond of you as well."

Letting out a soft growl, he rolled toward her, pushing her onto her back and cradling her head against his arm. Her hair was soft against his skin, and she had a lazy smile on her lips as she watched him. His other hand tipped her chin back, and he brushed his lips against hers, feeling a trill of pleasure when she leaned into his kiss, her hands sliding over his skin until she was pressing her palms into his back, drawing him toward her.

As he kissed along her jaw and moved to her neck, he smiled against her skin. "There is one, small detail I'd like clarified."

"Hmm?" She asked as she brushed her lips against his ear.

"If I'd come to steal you from the Shadow Wolves, you'd have fought me on it?"

"Really?" Katrina drew her hands under him, lightly shoving as his chest. When he rocked back a little to give her room, she had a scowl on her face. "You're really still on that?"

"I'm curious."

Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms, twisting her lips to one side. "Probably."

"Probably," he echoed, letting his gaze wander down her form. When he met her gaze again, he tilted his head. "So you might not have."

"Well, I was very desperate to get out of that place," she retorted, a teasing tone in her voice. "I might have waited to argue the finer details until we had some distance between us and that unbearable Wolf."

"Play the man who 'fancies' you just to get away from someone you don't like?" he asked, catching one of her hands and drawing it up over his shoulder. As he moved to do the same with the other one, she pulled her hand free, running her knuckles gently against his cheek.

"Well, I am a horrid, dastardly Lowlander." She leaned up and kissed him. She caught him by surprise, her affection stronger than usual. Her fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer as her lips hungrily moved against his.

He responded in turn, pressing his body against hers as he moved to cup her face in his hands, kissing her back with a desperation he hadn't realized he had coiled inside of him.

When he pulled away from her, they were both gasping for breath.

"You couldn't be horrid or dastardly if you tried."

Katrina laughed at that. "You have never been on my bad side, dear thane."

"I've seen that fire in you," he murmured, moving down to her neck again. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her neck and then another when she tilted her head back to let him reach more of her. A soft moan escaped her.

It sent a shiver down his spine, and he slid an arm under her so that he could press her closer still. The leather of her shirt scraped against his chest. Without thinking, his hands found their way beneath it, fingers splayed and pressed against the soft skin of her back.

She pushed him back a little, and he pulled away instantly, fear flickering through him. He'd gone too far.

However, instead of admonishment or shame, Katrina followed him up, kissing his neck and collarbone before reaching down and jerking her shirt up over her head. She cast it aside and moved toward him, slipping into his lap so that she was straddling him, her breasts pressing against him as she wrapped her arms around him again.

With a grin, he let himself fall back, an arm around her bare waist dragging her with him. She let out a soft cry as they settled against the sheets. His fingers were already sliding the top of her pants down, and she rocked her hips against him, helping him along.

Laughter and desperate kisses preluded the rest of their clothes finding their way to the floor. When they were both laid bare, Cullen hesitated, fingertips drifting along her smooth skin, pausing on the hip that she'd hurt during the raid. There wasn't even a scar, but he could still remember the way she'd limped, and it brought a brief pain to his chest.

He traced small circles over her skin before looking back at her face, seeing a gentle fondness in her eyes that sent those familiar flames flickering in a different light.

Moving back so that he covered her body with his, he kissed her long and hard. His fingers slipped down between her legs and she gasped against his lips as he slid them inside of her, working her slowly until she ready for him. Finally, with her fingers tangled in his hair, and her lips trailing across his skin between gasps, he took her as his, his hips moving with hers in gentle yet firm strokes that left her arching into him and calling his name as he brought her to climax.

As he followed her into bliss, her name fell from his lips as well.

…-…

Katrina wasn't sure what time it was when she woke up, though she couldn't bring herself to care much. Her body had a pleasant ache to it, and strong arms were still wrapped around her from where they'd fallen asleep the night before.

She sighed contentedly, letting the world slip by as she chose to simply exist.

Last night had been…perfect in so many ways. She'd had partners before, but with them, it had always been sex that they'd wanted, and sex they'd gotten. With Cullen, though, he'd wanted her.

It was a foreign feeling, to be wanted in every way—in any way—and it caught in her chest like a swallowed pit. She didn't quite know what to do with it, truly.

And so she lay there, replaying the events of the night before, curled up in his arms.

When he finally stirred, the first thing he did was tighten his grip on her, pulling her closer again as he breathed in her hair.

"Good morning, my thane."

A pleased hum escaped his throat as his lips found their way to her ear. "Good morning, my lady."

Even as the words passed his lips, he seemed to tense. She rolled over to face him, catching the fretful expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I…that is…" he trailed off, avoiding her gaze. "I did not mean to bring up that you are…or aren't—"

She caught his lips with hers, interrupting his fumbling apology. His hands slid across her back, fingers curling gently into her skin as he held her to him, returning her kiss. When she pulled away, she arched her eyebrows, tilting her head back a little as she watched him.

"You know, at the end of the day, it is a title. If you wish to call me that, I don't mind at all."

"I don't want to see you cry again," he whispered.

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. She pulled him closer, cradling his head against her neck. "Cullen, you adorable fool." He grunted at that, though she simply held him. "If I'm going to cry about something out of your control, there's not a damned thing you can do to stop it, so best to just let it take its course." She hesitated, before finally loosening her grip on him. As he raised his head to meet her gaze, she cocked hers. "Is that why you never want me talking about my family? You're afraid I'll break down?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself. Finally, he shook his head. "It's not right. You should not have been banished as you were."

"Well, be that as it may," Katrina shrugged a little, "I don't see how it matters, truly." When he tilted his head, she arched her brow. "Would you rather my father come marching down here, demanding you set free his little girl? I did not think you were so fond of dramatics." She kissed the tip of his nose. "I like the way things are turning out, myself."

"I just…" Cullen sat up, slowly untangling himself from her as he did so. Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. "I do not like that you could have been rejected as you were. That you could have been cast out for such a stupid reason."

At that, Katrina narrowed her eyes for just a moment. When she'd told him her woes, blubbering like a small child who'd had their favorite toy chewed to pieces by a dog, he'd professed that he hadn't been able to understand most of what she'd said.

When, in the morning, he'd been outraged on her behalf, she hadn't thought much of it.

Now, however…

Now, honestly, she could see Cullen at least somewhat siding with her father, in at least understanding that her father had been protecting his family, his 'hold', by cutting loose the member who would be most likely to bring ruin upon the family.

"That's not it, is it?" She lightly reached out, trailing her fingers down his muscular arm. "You fear I choose you because I have no other options?"

His gaze snapped toward her, looking most insulted. "I know you would not lay with me if you did not want it."

Despite the swell of pride in her chest that he could be so sure of her as he was, she chose to feign suspicion, shrugging a little. "If you say so…though I suppose I should point out that if I really, honestly, truly wished it, I probably could go home."

Cullen appraised her carefully, as though trying to figure out what game she was on about. "You could?"

"I could," Katrina nodded. Slowly, she pushed herself up to sit beside him. "Though I don't see that I would. I'd have to apologize profusely, for the most part, and I have never been fond of or good at groveling."

Cullen frowned. "But it wasn't your fault."

"Precisely!" Katrina nodded. "It's stupid. I've done nothing wrong—er than usual. They should recognize that this falls under rather extraordinary circumstances and work with me."

"I agree."

She slipped under his arm, wrapping hers around him. "That's why I like you. One of the reasons, anyway."

"Oh?" His fingers found his way into her hair as she kept talking.

"You get that sometimes the world just requires anarchy. Sometimes you have to do what's right, even if it will definitely bring ruin to you and everyone you love."

He stiffened a second before looking down at her, clearly suspicious.

She couldn't help a triumphant smirk. "You don't know why I can't go home."

"I…"

She squeezed him a little, head tilted back to watch him. "Out with it. What did Morrigan tell you?"

The look of realization on his features was such a gradual thing. First, the fact that there had been a miscommunication that settled in, sweeping some of the tension out of his neck and shoulders. Then came the dawning that whatever assumptions he'd made—at the coercion of Morrigan or otherwise—were likely misconstrued at best.

Then a frown that she had figured it out before him.

"She said you were considered impure, and couldn't go home because of that."

Katrina stared blankly at him. "What?"

"That you were banished because you were…alone with men."

Katrina stared up at him another moment before she abruptly burst out laughing. Twisting away from him, she fell face down on the bed, body trembling as she cackled into the furs.

The Maker or whatever was out there had the most twisted sense of humor.

Even as she gasped for breath, trying to calm down enough to comfort her dear thane, she felt his hand rest between her shoulder blades. His other hand swept her hair back so that he could kiss her shoulder.

"Katrina."

"Maker… You thought…" She lifted her head a little, barely able to breathe let alone form coherent sentences. "No wonder you've been so…" Rather abruptly she twisted about and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him down to her and holding him close. She pressed a few kisses against his temple before finally regaining control enough to speak. "My dear, sweet thane. I was not cast out because of any such thing. I disobeyed my father. He didn't want me to pursue justice for Amelia and made me choose between her and the family. I can't go home because I burned that bridge, and I don't know that I'd be willing to try to rebuild it."

"Truly?"

"You may not believe it, but I very rarely do anything that I don't want to do."

"It is not as hard to imagine as you may think," he grinned.

Rolling her eyes, she ran her fingers along his cheek. "My father always complained that I was too strong willed."

"I like your will," Cullen countered, almost as soon as she'd said it. "And I think I like that you belong to yourself. I wouldn't have liked having to ask your father for permission to steal you."

"You sure about that?" Katrina arched her eyebrows. "He'd have probably given me to you. Paid you to take me, even."

Cullen frowned, drawing her closer to him again and resting his head beside hers. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Oh, you want fun, do you?" Katrina ran her hand up his back, nails trailing over his skin.

He kissed her, lips curling into a smile in time with hers. "It's really not because of anything we did?"

"It is not."

"Good," he murmured into her ear. When she let him go so that he could sit up, he smiled down at her, running his hand over her hair. "I was afraid we'd ruined you."

"That," she sat up as well, though she leaned back on her elbows, watching him, "is something you'll never need to worry about. I do a good job of that all on my own."

Cullen's smile tugged up one corner of his mouth, "So then…" When Katrina arched her brow, he nuzzled his nose against hers. "All I have to do is find a way to steal you from yourself."

"Are we really back to that, again?"

He pulled back a little, tilting his head. "We are. Do you have any tips for me?"

"I do not think you will like it."

"Try me."

She slipped her arms up around his neck, crossing them at her wrists. "I fear you cannot steal me." She waited a moment, watching his smile slip slightly. Then, she simply lifted her head and pressed her lips lightly to his before stretching to whisper in his ear. "You can't steal what you already have."

He kissed her neck. "Is that so?" She let out a soft moan as his lips trailed lower. "Then what should I do?"

"I can think of a few things."