I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes) - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cullen/Inquisitor)
Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who has yet to be created in game but already lives in my head. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?
Previously...
"Cullen? Can you give me a hand?"
He moved away from the table and saw her collecting a large number of hilts, blades and bow-pieces. Maker, what was she doing NOW? He grabbed the heavy pile of bits and pieces from her arms and dumped them on the ground next to the forge.
"What's all this, then?"
Trevelyan stood proudly with her hands on her hips, surveying her pile of supplies, then looked up at him.
"Well, sharpening Cassandra's dagger has inspired me. I'm in the mood for some crafting!"
Cullen's shoulder's slumped, and he closed his eyes once more. For the love of...
"Maker, help me... Let's get crafting then."
It was going to be an even longer night. But at least she wasn't sad anymore. Or throwing herself at him. What was the harm in crafting a few things?
Now...
Trevelyan paced before the pile of crafting materials, muttering to herself as she seemingly picked up bits and pieces at random then dropped them once more and resumed pacing. Cullen stood off to the side, leaning against one of the sturdy wooden work tables, his arms crossed. He couldn't decide whether he was more amused or annoyed at this newest turn of events. Trevelyan deciding to craft things wasn't the worst thing in the world, and hopefully it would help tire her out, but it was getting later and later. Cullen assumed from the position of the moon that it was well after midnight by this point. He would usually be in bed by ten-thirty for a five-thirty in the morning start. Not that he ever fell asleep at ten-thirty, of course.
He usually lay awake for a good hour or so thinking about Trevelyan and the things he'd like to do with her, thoughts he would never share with anybody. The Chantry sister's had always lectured the boys about what would happen if they did exactly what Cullen was doing alone in his bed at night, terrifying them with tales of blindness and pieces of themselves falling off. So far, though, Cullen's eyesight was still perfect and the only thing he felt was slightly more sated when he eventually fell asleep. He could write that one Chantry lesson off as a lie. He was coming to grips, very slowly, with the fact that not everything the Chantry told everyone was necessarily the whole truth. He was still a believer in the Maker, obviously, because only He could have created such a marvellous yet flawed creature as Trevelyan.
The marvellous yet flawed creature was currently scratching her head, still perusing the pile of crafting material. She sighed loudly and slumped to the floor, clutching some steel in one hand and a sharpened hilt in the other. She glanced at the pile again, then looked back at what she held in her hands, and groaned in consternation.
"Ughhh... Where do I start? If everyone's equipment is as dull as Cassandra's what should I do? How could my companions be so un-prepared for battle? This is an utter disaster..."
Cullen moved away from the table and squatted beside her, patting her shoulder lightly.
"I'm sure it's not that bad, My Lady. Cassandra's dagger was only her secondary weapon, I'm fairly certain her long sword will be as sharp as her temper."
Trevelyan snickered, still perusing the scattered materials before her.
"You're quite funny, you know. I never realised that before. Perhaps I wasn't paying enough attention..."
Cullen picked up a piece of iron at random and started turning it over in his hands.
"Is it alright if I'm funny occasionally?"
Trevelyan didn't look up from the materials in her hands, but nodded.
"Of course. It makes you more... approachable. More human. I used to look at you as some kind of battle god, the perfect embodiment of everything strategic and war-like. Then I noticed your scar, and realised that you could be hurt too, just like everyone else. I've caught you smiling at some of Varric's jokes, so I knew you had a good sense of humour, or at least a sense of humour that was close to mine. I've seen you training with some of the younger recruits as well and... well, let's just say, I found it hard to turn my gaze from you. And now I know you can make jokes as well."
Cullen's hands stilled as he listened to her. She'd been watching him for as long as he'd been watching her, apparently. That made him feel a little better, and a little less like a perverted old man. Though he still didn't really know how old she was, he knew she was a lot younger than he was. Perhaps if she knew that he was already halfway to forty years old she'd lose interest and move on. He decided to just come out and ask her.
"How old are you, Trevelyan, if I may ask?"
Trevelyan had dropped the steel and swapped it for a chunk of silverite and seemed a little happier with her choice, when she finally looked up and made eye contact with him.
"I'm twenty-seven, Cullen, you know that. Though actually, I'm almost twenty-eight."
She leaned forward, conspiratorially, her breasts accidently brushing against his arm as she moved closer to whisper in his ear.
"Don't you dare tell anyone how old I am, or I'll make you suffer."
Cullen stiffened when she didn't move away immediately, her body still rubbing up against his as her breath tickled his ear.
"How would you do that, exactly..."
He hadn't thought. The words had just tumbled from his lips as he'd relished the feel of her soft curves rubbing up against his side. How would she make him suffer, indeed. How would she make him suffer MORE than this was the real question.
"Well, firstly, I wouldn't talk to you for a couple of days. Then, secondly..."
She stopped to think and Cullen nudged her lightly in the side.
"Secondly...?"
She cleared her throat and looked at him with a serious frown on her face,
"Secondly, I would refuse you entrance to my bedchamber for a week..."
Cullen choked and started coughing, trying to hold back a surprised chuckle. Maker's Breath, this woman...! Her eyes widened, and she put a hand on his arm, concerned.
"Oh, Cullen, I was kidding. I could never refuse you..."
She'd shuffled in front of him, looking up into his eyes, her hands now resting on both of his forearms. Maker, she looked so earnest... He didn't know when his right hand had moved up to rest on her cheek, but there it was, and she was leaning into his touch, her eyes closed and a small happy smile flitting across her lips. He found himself moving in toward her face, and with her eyes closed he studied it with abandon. Her long, black lashes that curled slightly at the ends, her flawless alabaster skin, the strands of hair that lay across her forehead... He pushed a few of the strands back behind her ear and she sighed and leaned into his hand even more. His eyes were drawn to her pretty pink mouth, and his tongue darted out to moisten his own lips, as if in anticipation for a kiss... What was he thinking? He changed the angle of his approach and kissed her forehead, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin beneath his lips, and how he could feel her breath hitching against his neck as she breathed out when his lips made contact with her skin.
"Trevelyan... You'll be the death of me..."
Her eyes fluttered open, and her grasp tightened on his forearms.
"Cullen, why won't you kiss me...?"
He couldn't help it. His eyes bored into hers, and she gasped at the intensity of his gaze.
"Later, Trevelyan. I'll kiss you properly later..."
She blinked prettily, her eyes still slightly unfocused, and nodded. He moved back, eyes still locked with her hers, until he turned away and looked back out over the waterfall and into the darkness. This was... safer. Looking away from her seemed to be the only way he could control himself at all right now. He heard her moving around behind him, grabbing things from the pile of equipment, hammering and smelting, crafting to her heart's content, even starting to hum again. He stood there for a good hour, looking out into the darkness until he heard her voice call him out once more.
"You know why I love this place, Cullen?"
He didn't turn around completely, just his head to the side so she knew he was answering. Enough to be polite.
"The whole of Skyhold, or just the Undercroft, My Lady."
He'd gone back to his polite way of addressing her. No more utterances of Trevelyan, it was far too familiar. She may have sighed when she noticed this, but he was too far away to tell.
"The Undercroft. The forge is always lit, any time of day or night. I could literally come down here any time, and just craft away for hours. It's amazing."
Cullen couldn't help smiling at her exuberance. Maker, but she could be adorable sometimes. He decided to divulge one of his personal secrets to her, something he'd kept from her since he'd met her.
"You know, it was my idea to keep the forge burning twenty-four hours a day. I knew you returned here at random hours after your quests and liked to craft things, and I thought the best thing was to keep the forge alive all the time in case you wanted to use it."
He still couldn't see her, but he sensed that she'd stilled by the lack of hammering and clunking coming from behind him.
"You... You did this for me?"
She sounded dumbfounded, or at least a little shocked. He knew he couldn't look at her, so he stayed where he was, half in shadow and still turned away.
"Yes, My Lady. I believe... I believe I've been watching you as long as you've been watching me..."
He heard a giggle from behind him, but still didn't turn.
"That makes me rather happy, I think. That such a handsome man has had his eye on me... I hope I haven't done anything embarrassing."
Cullen hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath after that last confession until he released it in a silent 'whoosh'. She didn't mind that he'd been watching her. He may as well tell her his age and be done with it, just to get the age difference out in the open. Not that she'd remember any of this, surely. He decided he might try and approach her with the same confessions when she wasn't all hopped up on sleeping potions and see if her reactions were the same. He certainly hoped they'd be.
"Does it matter to you that I'm so much older than you?"
He heard her starting to hammer again behind him, then the hammering paused for a moment as she thought of an answer.
"You're only thirty-five. Turning thirty-six if my sources are correct, meaning you're only eight years older than me. That's really not much when you think about it. Besides, I've always liked more mature men. They always seem to know what they want, and how to take it, or make it happen. Why do you think I let you order me about, Cullen? I like it when you tell me what to do."
She didn't even seem to realise what she'd said. He leaned against the railing, hoping that the cool night air would help him with his 'situation', but he knew that if he turned around right now, even got a glimpse of her eyes or lips right now, there would be no going back. If he'd been in his chambers he'd have taken the problem in hand, so to speak, but he was in a public area, albeit an almost unpopulated area bar Trevelyan. There was no way he was going to relieve his discomfort here. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? He hoped she didn't, because if she was making him feel like this on purpose it was needlessly cruel. Her hammering had ceased again after she'd answered his question, and it sounded like she'd started stacking her newly finished weapons in one area so they weren't in a massive muddle in the middle of the floor. Her voice rang out again, and he grimaced, still trying to get his own body under control.
"Cullen, if I wanted to craft myself a new set of daggers, what would the best material be?"
Trevelyan had started picking through the now diminished pile of materials she had originally gathered, but the left-over contents were rather meager. Cullen answered without hesitation.
"Dragonbone, obviously. It's extremely strong, quite light, you can add runes and special materials to it to create magical effects. It's your best option, My Lady."
Trevelyan dropped the piece of obsidian she was holding and placed her hands on her hips, gazing around the crafting area.
"Right then, dragonbone it is! Now where do we keep the dragonbone, I wonder..."
Cullen smiled to himself, and started chuckling as she started searching through the chests around the edges of the Undercroft, searching for the elusive material. She eventually stopped, and looked up at him with a bemused expression on her face.
"What's so funny?"
Cullen grinned at her and gestured out into the darkness.
"You're wondering where the dragonbone is stored. Mostly it's stored inside dragons."
Trevelyan walked up to the railing beside him and looked out into the night, echoing his stance.
"So, if I want to obtain some dragonbone to create my new twin daggers, I'm going to have to kill a dragon."
Cullen nodded, still refusing to look at her. The warmth of her beside him was enough to distract him again. Maker, this was getting ridiculous. Discussing dragons and the dangers in hunting them might be enough to bring him back, though.
"Not just a dragonling either. One of the High Dragons. Their bones aren't mature enough until they're fully grown."
Trevelyan slapped her hands down on top of the railing, and looked across at Cullen, resolute.
"Where's the closest dragon, then?"
This was enough to make him look at her again. Was she serious? This had to be the Harlot's Blush acting up again. He remembered Solas mentioning something about acts of bravado and wondered if this counted as one. He raised both hands and held them up in front of him in a 'calm down' formation.
"You can't be serious, it's the middle of the night! Have you ever fought a dragon before? One person can't bring one of those beasts down, you need... at least three others. Even the dragonlings are tricky little bastards, especially when they start breathing fire at you. You can always be sure, wherever there's a High Dragon, there will be scores of those miniature monsters there to help it out. And don't get me started on the half-grown ones..."
Trevelyan was looking at him with a look of exasperation that grew worse with every preventive word he uttered. She eventually crossed her arms and scowled at him.
"Have you fought one?"
Cullen stopped, mid-rant, and leaned back against the railing.
"Dragonlings, yes. A fully grown dragon, yes, but with a group of Templars at my back. A High Dragon, no. But I do know a couple of people who have fought High Dragons and won."
Trevelyan was still scowling, but she was also listening with interest.
"Who?"
Cullen smiled to himself as he thought of the other two great heroes he'd never had a chance with. Perhaps this time it would be different after all.
"The Hero of Ferelden and The Champion of Kirkwall, of course. I think between them, they killed about... five High Dragons. Oh, except one of those was the Archdemon, and another one was the Witch of the Wilds in dragon form. Actually, I think one of Hawke's kills was actually a mature Wyvern, rather than a dragon, and those things are much worse, with the charging and the spitting poison..."
Trevelyan's mouth had dropped open again, while listening to him discuss her two 'role models' as she referred to them. Both female and both rogues, he knew she looked up to them as aspiratory figures. It didn't hurt to remind her that he'd known both of them in the past. It might even put her more at ease around him, he hoped. Though, of course, she didn't need any help with that right now.
"If they managed it, I should be able to do it too. I just need the right group. And I also need to find a dragon, of course."
She started heading to the passage that led back to the main hall, and Cullen yawned as he began trudging after her once more. She remembered to grab Cassandra's now sharpened dagger from the table where she'd left it, as they headed back up to the Map room. She walked by his side, still stealing small glances up at his profile, but this time she didn't even try to hold his hand. Maybe she'd realised she wasn't actually dreaming, finally. Cullen stifled another yawn, and was suprised to feel her hand on his forearm all of a sudden. He looked across at her, and stopped walking when he noticed the contrite look on her face.
"Cullen, I'm sorry I'm keeping you up. I mean, I know we're usually in bed by now, but, the way I've been feeling lately... I had to do something just for me. The Inquisition is my life now, I have this strange mark on my hand that's not going anywhere, Leliana almost died and because of that I've lost my nerve, and on top of all that I realised I'm the last of my Father's line and I'll have to take on all the responsibility that comes with that as well. I'm losing myself, and I'm scared. I've never had to do anything like this in my life before. I've never had to be in charge of anything, that's what my brothers were for. They did all the organisational things, and I stepped in when they needed a rogue. I don't even know if I'm doing a good job. How do you know if you're a good leader?"
Cullen stepped in front of her, and planted his hands on both of her shoulders. She looked up at him, the sadness and confusion still clear on her face.
"You know you're a good leader if people follow you, Trevelyan. If people willingly take up arms and stand by you in a fight, without being co-erced or bribed, that's when you know. Almost all of the men and women working for the Inquisition are here of their own accord. They could leave at any time with no fear of retribution, but they don't because they believe in you and your leadership. The people of Ferelden and Orlais believe in you. All of your companions and advisors believe in you."
Trevelyan raised her hands to her shoulders and covered Cullen's with them, holding them in place.
"Do you believe in me?"
Once again his hazel eyes bored into her own, and he could see a deep pink blush starting to rise in her cheeks. Maker, she was beautiful.
"Of course. Do you even need to ask?"
He pulled her into his chest and hugged her, trying to make her feel a little better. He hadn't even given a thought to how she must be feeling about her position in the Inquisition. He had had to fight his way up through the ranks like all good soldiers and Templars to get to where he was today, as had all of the other advisors and companions. They were all leaders in their own right, and here they were being led about by this naive young thing who'd never led anything in her life before. Certainly she'd made a few mistakes in the beginning, but recently everything had been running quite well. There had been minimal deaths on their side, and they had closed quite a few rifts. They had gained new recruits, and Skyhold was starting to look like a headquarters to be proud of, all thanks to Trevelyan's hard work. The Redcliffe incident had put everybody on edge. The small woman in his arms had tentatively wrapped her own arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.
"I... Thank you, Cullen. I think I needed that. Nobody has given me a hug like that in months, not since my brothers... well, you know."
Her hands were sliding up and down his back, and he could feel a smile forming on her face even against his chest.
"Always a pleasure, Trevelyan. You must be feeling better if your hands are starting to wander."
She gasped at his bold reply, then chuckled softly.
"I was just thinking, this is the first time I've ever seen you not wearing armour. I quite like the look on you, it makes you less... formal. In all my other dreams you appear in my room wearing your full suit of lion armour, which you look amazing in of course. I guess that's just because it was my first impression of you, in full regalia, giving orders and looking at me in a rather non-plussed manner."
Cullen raised an eyebrow, but continued holding her, his fingers weaving in her hair.
"I may look good in it, but I would never wear armour while trying to sneak into somebody's chambers with a specific plan to bed them. There'd be far too many time consuming buckles and belts to undo, and then there's the noise factor. All that heavy metal clunking to the floor, it's a mood killer, I'll tell you."
Trevelyan had started giggling, and with her relatively cheered up, Cullen backed off, moving out of arms reach. Solas hadn't been kidding about side effects. Cullen decided to tell Solas to add mood swings to the list of side effects that this particular sleeping draught could bring on. Then again, he might just tell Solas to never, ever create this particular potion ever again. That may be the better option. Trevelyan smiled at him and held out her hand, and he took it, weaving his fingers through her own once more. She pulled him into the Map room where she plunged the dagger back into the table, then headed back out into the corridor. Instead of moving down the hall in the direction of her chambers, though, she began pulling him outside.
"Come on! We're going to scout out the best and quickest route for me to find a dragon tomorrow. I need those new daggers, and I'm going to get myself some dragonbone, Maker help me!"
Cullen had glanced at the clock in the Map room and had groaned inwardly. It was almost two in the morning, and she still didn't show any signs of slowing down. He knew that if she fell asleep she'd have nightmares, but surely there was some way that he could distract her enough so that she'd be thinking of something else rather than the dark tidings that usually awaited her in her dreams. Perhaps fixating on dragons would help, or thinking about the new daggers she'd be making. He decided to try talking about the daggers first...
END OF PART 03
OK, so now the game's actually dropped we know about the whole Redcliffe thing, and... yeah... But I'm not going to re-write or edit because this storyline is running from that arc (The one that we thought was happening, without revealing any spoilers from the game). My in-game romance with Cullen is going swimmingly, by the way...
Part 4 will be ready shortly - be prepared for adult situations! As always, read, review and enjoy :-)
Foxfire out!