Here's the final chapter! I hope you like it.
NSFW ;)
The ride back to Skyhold was tense. Elena wished she could make the journey on her own, but Cassandra would hear none of it–too fearful, it seemed, that the Inquisitor would have a relapse or another calamity would befall her. Instead, they rode in silence, and Elena found that she couldn't look at anyone in the group, especially not Cullen.
She closed her eyes, trusting her mount to follow Cass along the mountain path, and tried to settle her emotions. Instead of the calm she wished for, a rush of hot shame flooded through her.
Maker, she had been depraved; a mindless, relentless sex fiend. The things they had done! She blushed just thinking about the wanton way she'd acted, the demands she'd made of Cullen. Surely he must think the worst of her. Think her weak-willed, or worse, no better than a whore. And the worst part, the absolutely worst part, was that it wasn't even the demon's venom that made that way–she had wanted her Commander long before this. Had spent countless hours watching him train his troops or practice in the tilting ring, admiring his sculpted body and commanding voice. Spent nights fantasizing about that voice telling her exactly what he would with his body.
No, the venom had only made her desires more pressing–more difficult to ignore until her entire body had been screaming for his touch.
Opening her eyes, she resolved to herself right then, as Skyhold loomed on the horizon, that she would do everything in her power to avoid the Commander as much as possible. They would put this embarrassing episode behind them, and continue on as continue on as colleagues–acquaintances, really.
She bit her lip, a frown working over her face. Her resolution left her feeling cold and empty. She knew what it was liked to be held by Cullen–loved by Cullen. And the thought of going back to the way things were left her feeling bereft. Elena shook her head. Still, there as nothing else to be done about it. She would establish walls between them, even if it left her miserable.
The first few days back at Skyhold weren't as bad as Elena expected. Josie and Leliana had been informed, more or less, about the Incident, and she knew at least the basic details of where she had been had spread to her companions, if not further among Inquisition personnel. But no one dared mention it to her–instead, everyone acted as if she had just been away on a mission as usual.
Exiting the door leading to her bedchamber, she walked into the great hall. A War Council had been called, and she needed to go, but Elena found herself dragging her feet, wanting to avoid being the first in the room on the chance that Cullen arrived before the others. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warm afternoon sun warm her back before she walked through the cavernous chamber. Cullen. At first it had been fairly easy for Elena to avoid the Commander. He was embarrassed as well, she thought, and mainly kept to his quarters and the training grounds, which she avoided studiously, sending messengers if she needed to speak with him. She feared, however, that she wouldn't be able to keep her cool facade up–sooner or later she would have to talk with him.
As she passed Varric's table, she caught sight of Dorian and Cassandra, head's bent together, whispering. When they saw her come by, they quickly broke apart. Elena frowned, but didn't have time to stop and ask them what in the name of that Maker that had been about.
Instead, she kept her chin up and ignored the curious looks and mutterings.
Pushing open the heavy doors, Elena was relieved to see everyone but Cullen had arrived.
"Good afternoon, Inquisitor," Josephine greeted. "I hope you're doing well."
Elena, Josie and Leliana exchanged pleasantries for a few moments, before the doors were pushed open once again and Cullen strode into the room. Elena immediately shifted her gaze to the sheaf of reports before her on the table, careful not to catch his eye. If Josie and Leliana noticed her subdued behavior (and if she was being honest with herself, of course they noticed) they didn't say anything.
"Afternoon, ladies," Cullen greeted, taking his customary place on the other side of the table across from Elena. "My apologies for my tardiness."
"No worries, Commander," Leliana chirped, "Josie and I were just remarking to Lady Trevelyan that today's meeting would be short, weren't we, Elena?"
Elena glanced up, eyes cutting to her spymaster. "Yes of course," she paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and desperately trying not to look at Cullen, even though his strong, commanding presence was difficult to ignore in a room otherwise occupied by women. "I believe we only need to discuss Josephine's progress on the peace talks between Ferelden and Orlais."
"And some diplomatic correspondence," Josephine added with a sly smile.
The meeting didn't take terribly long, just as expected. Josephine wrapped up her report on the peace agreements–scheduled to take place between Empress Celene and King Alistair in a few month's time–and began shifting through a few letters.
"Ah yes! Here it is. I have a number of marriage proposals for you, Inquisitor. I've taken the liberty of narrowing it down to two. Of course you don't have to accept either, but these would be…advantageous to both yourself and the Inquisition."
Elena's mouth dropped at the Antivan woman's words. Marriage proposals?
"Maker's breath, you're not serious, are you?" Cullen snapped from the other side of the table, startling Elena out of her shocked stupor.
"I never joke about diplomacy, Commander," was Josephine's crisp reply.
Elena cleared her throat, partially hoping to draw everyone's attention back to the task at hand and partially because her mouth had gone terribly try at Josephine's pronouncement.
"Who…who are they from?"
Josephine smiled sweetly. "The first is from Duke Etienne de Montfort–he's Empress Celene's first cousin, which would obviously be advantageous to our current alliance with Orlais. The second is from Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven, which could provide for a wider sphere of influence in the Free Marches, especially with your family and the recent military acquisitions Starkhaven has made in Kirkwall."
Before anyone could say anything, Josephine pulled up another letter. "I also have a proposal for Commander Cullen from Teyrina Anora Mac Tir of Gwaren."
A brittle snapping sound ricochet through the room and it took Elena a moment to realize she had broken the quill that she had been twirling between her fingers as they spoke. The thought of Cullen with another woman–
"I don't know that a marriage alliance would be productive right now," she began.
"Surely we have more important issues to see to!" Cullen ground out just as she began to speak.
Silence followed their remarks and Elena chanced a glance up. Cullen was watching her, his jaw set in determination. A rush of heat spread through her as his golden gaze turned to her, and she quickly dropped her eyes again. Leliana cleared her throat, signally that they should move the discussion forward and wrap the meeting up quickly.
Elena hurried to leave the room, desperate to get away from the scorching look Cullen had given her, away from the knowing expressions of her other advisors. She needed to be alone.
As she made her ways down the still ruined hallway, she felt a gently touch at he elbow. She stopped and looked up, a small gasp leaving her throat when she realized Cullen was towering over her, so close she could smell the warm, masculine scent of him.
"My Lady, we need to speak abou–"
"No Commander, I'm sorry. I have to go," she quickly cut in, panic flooding through her at his nearness.
His hand slid up her arm, sending tingles radiating across her skin as his fingers curled around the back of her neck.
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't hid behind titles. Not with me."
Her eyes widened as he leaned down towards her, and she thought for sure that he would kiss her. With a side-step and a twist, she slipped out from his arms.
"I'm sorry," she threw over her shoulder as raced down the hallway. "I just–I can't."
It was late–too late to be awake, but yet there she was, staring up at the silk canopy of her bed as the moon climbed across the sky. Her sheets were rumpled from tossing back and forth; every time she closed her eyes, she saw the hurt look in Cullen's eyes at her coldness.
With a sigh of frustration, Elena decided she was hungry, which was surprising as lately she couldn't stomach more than a few bites of anything without thinking about the way Cullen had fed her–memories which brought heat to her face and made her stomach too fluttery for food. All she could think of during a meal were the hard callouses of his fingers brushing against her lips, her tongue, as she sucked something sweet into her mouth.
She shook her head and threw the blankets off, the cold night air immediately feeling good against her heated skin. She could ring for her maid to bring something from the kitchens, but Elena seriously doubted the woman was still awake. She sat up, her feet sliding over the lush carpets covering her stone floor–an expedition to the kitchens were in order.
It was easy enough sneaking down to the great hall, she knew Skyhold as well as her family home, and she was adept at sneaking, after all. Past the guards and down the stairs to the kitchens, she eased the door open and glanced around the cavernous space, making sure none of Cook's helpers were around. The only thing that moved was a candle flame perched above one of the iron stoves.
Crossing the room, she lit a few more, bathing the room in a rosy glow. Embers still smoldered in the oven and Elena quickly added another log to the fire. While she waited for the stove to heat, she busied herself slicing bread, cheese, and turkey. It didn't take long to toast her sandwich. She flipped it onto a wooden plate and turned for the table.
She let out a little scream, almost dropping her sandwich when she saw Commander Cullen standing in the doorway, watching her, his golden eyes warm and liquid in the candle light, his arms crossed over his powerful chest. She pressed her hand to her heart, taking a deep breath.
"Maker, Commander, you frightened me!"
He took a step forward, hands held before him as if to calm her. "I'm sorry–I didn't mean to."
Silence filled the room as they regarded each other. Elena shifted on her feet, nervous energy coursing through her. She had been very careful to avoid this exact scenario–being with Cullen, alone, with little chance of anyone interrupting them. And save for that afternoon, she had been doing well.
She could feel her skin heating as a fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her. Maker, the things they'd done together–even now she could recall the warm, heavy weight of his body over hers, the hot full feeling of him driving deep inside of her. She looked down at her feet, before finally summoning her courage to meet his gaze.
"Was there something you needed?"
Something flashed in his eyes and she saw his jaw tick. After a moment of regarding her with a firm gaze he stepped towards her, looming over her until only her sandwich on its plate was between them. Elena's eyes widened.
"Yes. We need to talk."
Well. Shit. There was certainly nowhere to run now.
"I'm not so sure," she whispered, sounding scared even to herself.
Cullen's gaze softened, making the gold of his eyes liquid and warm. He cupped her jaw, his fingertips just brushing along her skin, and tilted her head up.
"Yes we do, Sweetheart." His voice was soft, as much a caress as it was a promise. "Have you been avoiding me?"
"That's ridiculous! We're both incredibly busy and–"
His eyes narrowed, "let me rephrase that. Why are you avoiding me?"
Elena dropped her gaze, focusing on the sandwich between them. I should have used Fereldan cheddar…
"Is it because you regret being intimate with me?" The question was so soft, if they hadn't been so close she wouldn't have hear him.
Her head snapped up at that, eyes widening. Was he mad? Any woman would be crazy not to want him–She had wanted him, and still did, despite trying to keep her distance. Those days spent at the Inn had been euphoric.
She just wished she hadn't been enchanted when they'd been together. Had he even wanted to be with her? Or was it simply another duty for him to perform?
"It's not that," she murmured, feeling heat crawl up her throat that spread over her cheeks in a blush.
"Then what?" he gently prompted.
"I…" she paused, taking a deep breath and trying to keep the hot tears of shame that pricked at the back of eyes from spilling. "I was–the way I acted. I was an animal. You had to feed me. Bathe me…all I wanted to do was rut, like, like a bitch in heat."
She covered her face with her hands, ignoring the sound of her plate clattering on the stone floor. "I was out of my mind! But you…you did your duty and took care of me. I never want anyone to see me like that. I hate that you've seen me like that. That you were forced to be with me when I was like that!"
The dam of her emotions broke and tear flooded down her cheeks. Cullen's warm arms wrapped around her, but she pushed against him, beating at his chest with her fists.
"I hate it! I hate what that fucking desire demon did to me! I hate her! I hate her! I HATE HER!"
Just as quickly as her anger rose, it depleted, and she slumped against his chest, crying softly as he stroked her hair and rubbed her back. Maker, why did it feel so good to be in his arms? How did he know just how to touch her to make everything feel as if it would be alright? It wasn't fair–she was trying to do the right thing and keep her distance, but everything about him pulled her closer.
"You're wrong you know," he murmured, his voice slightly muffled as he spoke into the crown of her head. "It wasn't duty that compelled me to stay in that room with you. I…I care about you, deeply. I wanted to protect you, care for you. But if I could turn it all back so that it never happened, despite how content I was in that room with you, I would. I would take your pain away if I could."
She looked up at him, surprised by his words. Surprised and not a little bit hopeful. Perhaps this hadn't been a disaster of epic proportions. Perhaps…perhaps something was salvageable between them. The warmth, sincerity, and love in his voice enveloped her, drew her into him, and Elena decided right that second there was nowhere else in Thedas she would rather be.
As if sensing her decision, Cullen gave a slow smile. Cradling her jaw with one hand, he lowered his lips to hers. Just the softest touch of mouth on mouth at first, but then, oh then, he pressed deeper, harder. Maker's breath. His kisses were even better when she wasn't in a magic induced haze. Elena gasped against him, her arms twining around his neck of their own accord, pressing her body flush against him so that she could feel his heart as if it beat within her own chest.
In a fluid movement, Cullen lifted her and stepped towards the table, the shatter clay plate crunching under his boots. He set her down, his hips sliding between her thighs, opening her to him, as he caressed her face, her neck, down her shoulders to her breasts. A naughty tweak of her nipple, and his hand moved lower, pushing her nightgown up.
"Cullen," she breathed, raking her fingers through his hair, her other hand scrambling to pull his shirt off.
The warmth of him between her legs, the firm but soft pressure of his lips on hers, his tongue, his hands, all of it was too much. She needed him, need him inside her now that it was just them, no magic, no desire demons, them. She needed and she wanted. And by the Maker, she knew he'd give it to her.
His shirt fluttered to the floor, his lips only leaving her's to pull the fabric over his head.
"I tried to give you space," he murmured, kissing a trail of fire down her jaw and throat. "But the thought of you wed to another man–in another man's bed. I can't. You're mine."
"Yes," she gasped, arching her back to give him better access to her breasts. "Cullen. I can't stop thinking about having you inside of me. I need it. I need you."
With a growl he pushed her nightshirt past her hips, his rough palms sweeping over her silken thighs. Elena spread her legs farther for him, begging him with her body to touch her once more.
"Ah, sweetheart, you're bare for me," he chuckled when he saw she wasn't wearing anything beneath her shirt.
Not wasting any time teasing her Cullen, began to stroke her slit, his thumb rubbing up and down in gentle strokes until she was mad with want, each passing of his finger sending spirals of lust shooting through her body. He heat clenched for him and she tore at his belt, tugging the laces of his trousers until she could push them past his hips. His cock sprang free and she smiled–he was even better than she remembered from her enchanted haze, bigger, thicker. A pearly drop of precum dotted his broad head, causing Elena to lick her lips as she remembered taking him into her mouth.
Grasping his cock, she gazed up at him. "Take me, Cullen."
In one smooth movement he entered her, a deep, satisfied rumble sounding in his chest. She cried out, her body stretching around his girth, taking every inch he gave her. Fuck. It was even better than she remembered. With gentle hands, Cullen framed her face, this thumbs stroking over her cheeks.
"Look at me, Elena. Look at me, Sweetheart," he commanded.
She complied, eyes locked on his as he thrust between her legs, desire and pleasure building deep within her body with every masterful stroke of his cock through her silken heat. She bit her lip, trying to keep her eyes from sliding closed so she could cry out her pleasure.
He caressed her face, stroked his fingers down the turn of her cheek to the tilt of her chin as if creating a portrait in his mind. The soft brush of his hands touching her everywhere, soft, gentle, seeking, stroking. Stoking her pleasure and need higher and hotter until she thought she'd expire.
Elena arched back, laying down across the length of the table. Cullen hooked his hands under her knees, pulling her tight against him and holding her hips up as he pounded into her, his gaze locked on hers all the while. She ran her fingers down his chest, stroked his hard muscles and the raised ridges of old scars. She had been wound so tight for days and was close, so close, just from having him inside of her. When his thumb brushed against her clit, she saw stars.
With a cry, she came, her body clenching around him, legs shaking, drawing his cock deep inside of her. Cullen held her gaze until the very last moment, his eyes squeezing shut as he let out a ragged gasp, and she felt his cock throb deep inside of her as he came, flooding her with warmth.
Breathing heavily, Cullen rested his forehead against her own, his warm breath ghosting over her cheek.
"No more avoiding me," he murmured, brushing a kiss across her jaw.
She nodded, stroking his back. "No more avoiding you."
"And you sleep in my bed from now on," he continued, nuzzling against her.
She nodded, adding, "and no more talk of arraigned marriages."
Cullen chuckled, pulling away for a moment before sweeping her into his arms so that her bare feet wouldn't be cut on the broken pottery scattered across the floor. "Something tells me Josephine won't be bringing it up again."
Elena laughed and threw her arms around his neck, content to be in his arms once more as he carried her off to bed. Joyful to be with the man who would always be at her side, mist or sun.
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