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 is now finally alive! She's alive! Mbwahahahaha! Ahem. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?
Previously...
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...
Now...
"What are you going to name them?"
Trevelyan stopped dead in her tracks, both eyebrows raised high.
"What?!"
Cullen had stopped walking when she'd frozen, but now resumed, gently tugging her outside.
"What are you going to name your dragon daggers? What did you think I was talking about?"
Trevelyan's cheeks were burning a deep red, and she was refusing to make eye-contact with him. Whatever thought his comment had triggered, it must have been either a very good one, or a very, very bad one.
"Nothing! My, uh... my mind wandered. Let's just go, shall we!"
Trevelyan had resumed the lead, heading out the main entrance of the hall and down the stairs leading into the main courtyard. She pulled him out through the main gate and stood on the small hill beside the heavy gate, peering out into the darkness. She sighed and pulled him back inside the gate, looking up at the battlements, her head cocked to the side.
"I was going to name them Mr Pointy and Mr Stabby. Then I realised that would be a bit daft."
Cullen snorted out a laugh, and sneaked a sideways glance at her face. She was sneaking a sideways glance right back at him, a small grin flitting across her lips.
"So, what did you decide to name them instead?"
Trevelyan continued looking up to the battlements, as if gauging their height.
"You know how I do that special attack with my daggers, Twin Fangs? Well, I was thinking maybe I could name them Fang One and Fang Two."
Cullen's laugh this time was more of a bark than a snort, and Trevelyan was also giggling.
"That makes them sound like characters from a children's story! Fang One and Fang Two, flitting about doing the bidding of a magical Nug in boots or some such thing!"
Trevelyan's lips had tugged up into a wide smile as she looked up at the roof of Cullen's tower, possibly one of the highest parts of the battlements.
"Oh Cullen, not a Nug, those things are disgusting! I was thinking more along the lines of a Fennec in a hat. An Inquisitor hat."
Cullen rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, and smiled.
"You could be thought of badly for spreading tales of the Inquisition through children's stories though. Mass indoctrination of the youths of Thedas, things like that."
Trevelyan walked over to the wall closest to Cullen's tower and looked it over, appraising it for something, he just wasn't sure what.
"Most children's stories are like that though. Badly masked tales of royalty and governments, officials renamed to hide their identities. I wouldn't be surprised if Varric hasn't already started penning some. I've seen some of his new book chapters floating about through the library already. I can't understand why he named my character something as ridiculous as Wynter Frost. I guess it has kind of a romantic air to it, but seriously? Wynter Frost! At least your character's name is close to yours: Commander Coulton, ex-templar and commander of the Inquisition's armies. I think he even mentioned your lion armour at one point. Come to think of it, that's not really masking your identity at all..."
Cullen groaned, remembering the multiple copies of 'The Eye in Inquisition' that he'd burned in the library earlier, then paused.
"Wait... do you like Varric's books?"
Trevelyan nodded, now tapping and pushing at the bricks in the base of the tower as if testing their strength.
"Oh yes, I love them. I specifically travelled to Kirkwall once just so I could get the last three volumes of 'Hard in Hightown'. It's pathetic, I know, but when you really like something you go to great lengths to achieve your goals."
For some reason, that last sentence seemed to reverberate through Cullen's being. Going to great lengths to achieve one's goals... Even if it was getting the next volume in a book series, or sealing every fade rift in Thedas, Trevelyan didn't seem to have an issue with going to any lengths to achieve the Inquisition's goals. She'd only been with them for a few short months, but didn't seem to have a problem with any of the tasks asked of her. She obeyed without question, acted without fear, and returned victorious every time. He wasn't ashamed to admit that his heart leapt every time he saw her returning to Skyhold, with that happy smile and relaxed swagger as she wandered through the Keep, greeting workers, companions and advisors alike. She didn't act like an almighty Inquisitor or the holy Herald of Andraste, she treated everybody as equals and only asked to be treated fairly in return. Trevelyan was an anomaly. He only wished he'd met her before all of this to see if she was any different before the incursion at the Conclave. While he was lost in thought, he hadn't noticed that she'd started to climb the wall that led up to his tower.
"Um, Trevelyan, there are stairs you know."
She was about six feet up the wall and concentrating with all her might, but she still managed to answer.
"Stairs are for the regular folk, Cullen. I'm a rogue. Sera, Cole and I spend countless hours climbing up and down the walls of this place. Well, Sera and I do, Cole just sort of appears when we're at the top already, I don't know if he actually climbs up or if he just... fade-steps there. I don't think he'll ever tell us either, he just kind of gives us this mysterious smile when we ask him. He's odd that way."
As Cullen watched her climb, his eyes invariably fell to her shapely hips swaying as she made it past twelve feet up and got closer to the base of his tower. She was climbing rather high, and was under the influence of hallucinogens. Maker, should he stop her? She seemed to be climbing with no problem though. He'd leave her to it.
"Yes, Cole. He is rather odd... I'm still quite wary of him, but then again, I don't really have that much to do with your Inner Circle."
Trevelyan barked out a laugh as she climbed, now past twenty feet above him.
"I think I'd quite like you in my 'Inner Circle', Ser Cullen. Though you seem to be quite against the idea this evening."
Cullen blushed, realising how she'd taken his innocent phrase and twisted it, then re-glued his gaze to her climbing figure. Almost thirty feet above the ground now. Something heavy thumped down into the ground next to his boot with a dull thud. He looked down and noticed a large chunk of stone. It must have shaken loose from the wall. He looked back up and his breath caught in his throat. Trevelyan was hanging by one hand, her legs dangling and her other hand struggling to find a hold in the stones before her. She was almost thirty-five feet up now, and a fall from that height would not be good, even for someone with her luck. She looked down at him, her eyes filled with panic. The only thing he could do was catch her.
"Let go. I'll catch you, Trevelyan. Just let go. Trust me."
Her eyes locked with his, and she nodded, almost imperceptibly. And with that, she let go of the wall, without a sound. Her fall seemed to last forever, at least by Cullen's counting, as he positioned himself below her flailing figure and made ready to catch her. Her slight frame landed in his outstretched arms, and he clutched her to his chest, afraid of what would have happened if she'd been out here by herself. He carried her, princess style, back into the Keep, and headed directly to her quarters. One of her arms had curled around his shoulders, playing with the short hair at the base of his neck, while the other rested lightly against his chest. She was so light. The woman desperately needed a good feed, and a good rest. She'd had the feed this evening, true, even though it had only been a meagre feast of banana pancakes, but it was better than nothing. Now she needed a sleep, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He'd indulged her long enough.
"Cullen? Where are you taking me?"
He refused to look at her, his eyes focused only on the door that led to her chambers, and making sure no-one saw him carrying the Inquisitor in such a shameless manner.
"To bed, Trevelyan. To sleep, before you can ask."
Her fingers continued to play in the hair at the back of his neck. It tickled him in a pleasant manner, but he couldn't think about that now. She could have died falling from that wall. There was no more time for games. She sighed and buried her face into his shoulder. He could smell her hair, and it was quite lovely, but no, he couldn't think about that either. The primary objective was to get her to sleep.
"I'm sorry I frightened you. I've never fallen from that wall before. I've climbed it loads of times."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't digress from his path. He made it to her door and fumbled with the knob, finally pushing it open with his foot.
"You could have died, falling from that height onto the stones beneath. What were you thinking?"
She sighed again, her breath once more tickling against his throat.
"This is only a dream, Cullen. You can't die in dreams."
The hallway was dark, but he managed to maneuver his way towards her door with her still enclosed in his arms. When he eventually opened the door to her chambers there were only a few candles left flickering as the rest had burned down to stubs. The low, flickering light made the room all the more romantic. He released his grip on her body and slid her feet to the ground so she could stand, then moved back, trying not to become enraptured by the flickering light dancing across her face. She stifled a yawn, and Cullen had to stop himself from making a victory fist. Was she finally starting to get tired? Thank the Maker! He started backing toward the door, hoping to sneak out before she noticed, but she turned and looked at him, confusion playing across her face.
"If you're feeling tired, My Lady, I'll leave you to your rest. Pleasant dreams..."
He trailed off when he saw the look of utter despair that had fallen across her face, just before she turned and looked out the window. He didn't move any closer to her, just stood there silently and waited for her to speak.
"Do you know how many people we've lost to the Inquisition's battles so far, Cullen?"
Cullen scratched the back of his neck, trying to recall the number off the top of his head, to no avail.
"A hundred or so. I can't recall the exact number."
Trevelyan continued gazing out the window, looking out at the darkness.
"One hundred and sixty-eight. We would have lost more, but for my closing the rifts. All of those soldiers we lost between Haven and Skyhold, due to their injuries while fighting the red templars and the archdemon. I've learned all of their names, you know. I recite them to myself before I go to sleep every night, and end the list with the phrase 'never again'. I personally wrote letters to all of their families, explaining how they died with Thedas' best interests at heart. They were the bravest of souls. And they died for the Inquisition. They died for us."
Cullen stared at her, the curve of her neck, the flickering light reflecting off the side of her face. She really did care about everyone, to a fault. If thinking on their deaths was encroaching on her sleep, she really did need a few more distractions thrown at her. He almost wished there were more normal fights for her to deal with to take her mind of the Inquisition. If the maker could throw a few more easy bandit fights her way, that would be great. Trevelyan sighed, and turned to face him.
"I sometimes wish though, that the fade rifts won't go away, and that I'll be stuck with the Inquisition a while longer. Do you know why?"
Cullen stared at her, a slight frown between his eyebrows.
"No... I can't see why anyone would want to stretch out this horror..."
Trevelyan smiled up at him sadly, unshed tears glittering in her eyes.
"As soon as the last rift is closed, and the last enemy destroyed, when peace is finally restored to all of Thedas... I'll have to go home. I'll have to take on all the responsibility of being the scion of the Trevelyan family. I'll have to wear pretty silk dresses from Orlais, curl my hair, follow every ridiculous society rule just to please my parents. Eventually I'll be forced to marry some insipid foolish Bann's son and start a family of my own. I'll never be able to speak a word of all the adventures I had, with all of the amazing people I've known here. A proper lady never takes up daggers to defend herself, she is defended by others. I'll have to pretend for the rest of my life."
Cullen remained where he was, but his hand stretched out towards her of it's own accord.
"Surely they could be made to understand..."
Trevelyan chuckled and started unbuttoning her jacket, making ready for bed. Cullen turned around hurriedly, his cheeks beginning to burn again, but found himself watching her reflection in a mirror behind him. He could see the round curves of her flesh slowly being revealed to him as she pealed the remaining layers off, left standing only in her small clothes. He could see the defined muscles in her legs and arms, the candle light flickering off the many small scars she had on her body, probably from scuffles years ago when she was still acquiring her skills. Even with these many small imperfections, Cullen thought she was the most stunning creature he'd ever seen. Every single insight he'd received into her psyche this evening had been a marvel, and he now understood that his feelings were not just the blind infatuations of a man unschooled in the ways of love. He was definitely developing genuine feelings for Trevelyan. The fact that she was so beautiful didn't hurt, either.
He closed his eyes when he saw her fiddling with the back of her corset, almost revealing her bare chest to him in the process. Some things had to remain personal, and he still had to hold on to the shreds of his gentlemanly nature. When he opened his eyes again and turned around, she was wearing a plain white cotton undershirt that hit her at mid-thigh, the neck laces missing so it hung wide on her shoulders, baring one entirely. That shirt looked entirely too familiar though... Indeed, there was a tear that he himself had sewn up because he hadn't wanted to force extra labour on any of the servants at Haven. Maker's Breath! She was sleeping in one of his undershirts! He felt himself starting to throb again, as he couldn't tear his eyes away from the vision before him. A beautiful woman, draped only in one of his own pieces of clothing, baring so much skin... He closed his mouth, which he hadn't even realised had fallen open, and locked his jaw, but he still couldn't drag his eyes away.
"Where... Ahem, where did you get that shirt?"
His voice, usually a mid-range timbre, had fallen a couple of octaves to an almost gravelly growl. Trevelyan picked at the hem of the shirt, raising it up another inch or so. This was absolute torture.
"Oh, this old thing? Sera said she found it, left out in the woods where the washing gets done. 'It seemed such a waste to leave it there', she said, 'since it's been so well looked after'. I agree actually, it's one of the most comfortable garments I've ever owned. Why?"
Sera. He should have known. Small things, insignificant things to some, had been disappearing all over Skyhold lately. It would appear that the leader of 'The Friends of Red Jenny' was getting bored. He'd really liked that shirt, too. Still, it did look quite lovely on its new owner. He'd unconsciously moved closer while she'd been explaining herself, and she was back within arms reach again. He wanted to know how her skin felt beneath his shirt, he wanted to touch all of her at once, but he was still hanging onto the thought that she wasn't in her right mind at this moment and would hate him later if he acted on any of his ridiculous whims.
"No reason. It looks good on you."
Her cheeks turned that lovely shade of pink again, and she looked down at her now bare toes.
"Ah. Thank you. Now, as we were saying earlier... You were saying that surely my parents could be made to understand. Clearly you haven't met my parents. Anything that's not properly done is not worth doing in the first place. When, not if, but when I leave the Inquisition, and take up my place as heir of the Trevelyan family, I'll have to leave this life behind completely. Speaking of battles and killing and demons while trying to win a husband just isn't the done thing. If I don't come across as a sensible young noble woman with the ability to run a household, I won't be able to fulfill my mother's wishes. I mean, what man could possibly want a woman like me...?"
Cullen closed the distance between them with one quick step, hooked a finger under her chin to bring her face up, and gently placed his lips upon hers in a soft kiss. Trevelyan's eyes widened, then fluttered closed as he wrapped his arms around her, entwining his fingers through her hair. Cullen angled his head to right slightly and deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue across her lower lip, begging entrance to her mouth. She gasped, and with that slight opening of her lips, Cullen saw his opportunity. Trevelyan sighed into his mouth, her body relaxing into his as she allowed him his sweet exploration. He honestly didn't know how long they stayed like that, but eventually he drew away, stroking one hand down her right cheek as her eyes blinked open slowly, gazing up at him slightly dazed.
"I want you, Trevelyan. Any man that couldn't want you the way that you are, without changing you, isn't worth knowing. Your parents are wrong."
Trevelyan looked up at him, her head angled to the left.
"Say that again."
Cullen blushed slightly, his hand still on her cheek. He leaned forward and whispered directly into her ear.
"I want you, Trevelyan."
She shook her head, even as her blush deepened.
"Not that, even though I do very much like the fact. Say the other thing again."
Cullen smirked, and moved in closer to capture her lips again. To the void with being a gentleman! This is what they both needed, both wanted.
"Your parents are wrong..."
Trevelyan wrapped her arms around Cullen's shoulder's, and he lifted her off the ground, spinning them around so he could lean her against the stone wall beside the window. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her, deepening their kiss once more and creating a marvellous friction between their bodies. She pulled back from the kiss first this time, leaning her forehead against his, breathing heavily.
"Cullen, I have a request..."
Her sentence melted into a moan as his lips made contact with her neck, nipping at the soft skin where her bared collarbone had been tempting him.
"What is it, My Lady?"
His murmured reply brought her skin out in goosebumps.
"Could you please call me by my name? My first name."
Cullen smiled into the side of her neck, and kissed his way up to her ear, tickling her earlobe with his nose as he leaned in closer to her.
"Of course... Lilah..."
She moaned again as his lips touched her ear. He whispered her name again as he ran feather-light kisses from her ear back across to her mouth. Every time he uttered it, it became easier for him. Every time he said it, she seemed to very much enjoy it as well. He could feel her thighs tightening around him, drawing him ever closer to her warm core. He could feel her starting to untuck his shirt from his trousers, and something nagged him in the back of his mind that this was a bad thing, but he pushed the thought away.
"Take this off. I want to see you."
He was only too happy to acquiesce to her request. He leaned back, far enough to remove the shirt, but not enough to break contact with her hips. He threw the offending garment to the floor, and tried to close back in to kiss her again, but found her hands resting against him. He glanced up at her face, and noted the fact that she was staring at his chest in awe.
"Sweet Maker... I need to give my imagination a special treat for coming up with this..."
Her hands were running up and down his body, exploring his well-formed pectoral and abdominal muscles, trying to search lower... No. There was one line he wouldn't cross tonight. He re-directed her hands to his back, as he pushed her harder into the stone wall and plundered her mouth once again. She stifled a groan into his mouth, as his tongue entered her mouth again, this time not as gently. Her own tongue warred with his, and his hips ground against hers as he increased the friction between their bodies. The minuscule movements she'd been making against him started to become more bold, and he could actually feel himself starting to sink inside her as his member became harder and her body became more accustomed to his. Thank the Maker he was still wearing his trousers and small clothes. She pulled her mouth away from his with a gasp, and gazed into his eyes.
"Where did you learn to kiss like that?"
Cullen cupped one of her breasts through the thin cotton shirt, running his thumb over the pebbled peak which was almost visible through the low neckline, and lowered his face to kiss her alabaster flesh, drawing yet another moan from her.
"The Chantry."
Lilah's head fell back against the stone wall as he continued his ministrations, her eyes closing and mouth curving into a soft smile as one of her hands moved to play through his hair.
"You and I clearly went to very different Chantry's..."
Cullen raised his eyes from his 'work' and looked up at her. She looked so happy, so relaxed... Maybe he should have just done this from the start, and she would have fallen asleep at a reasonable hour and... No. This was the only way the night could have possibly played out. Without banana pancakes, hot chocolate, crafting, dragons and regrets about death and family, he wouldn't have ended up with the Inquisitor in his arms. Oh, and the sleeping potions. The blasted sleeping potions. He almost growled in annoyance when he remembered again that she would be writing off this entire night as a dream, while he would be remembering every touch, every kiss, every sensation, and knowing it all really happened. His hips pushed harder into hers, pushing her back hard up against the wall, making her gasp and grasp his upper arms more firmly.
"Lilah..."
The apology he'd about to utter died on his lips when he saw the fire alight in her eyes. Instead, he thrust forward into her again, her legs tightening around his waist. He dug his fingers into her thighs and pushed into her again, and she cried out, burying her face in his shoulder to muffle the sounds escaping from her. Her legs had started to tremble again, and he could feel her rubbing against his member with a renewed fervor. He thrust forward one more time, and felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as she bit into his flesh, stifling yet another round of pleasured moans. Cullen hissed as he felt her teeth pierce his skin, then strangely felt himself grow even harder as he felt her pulsing around him, even through his trousers. This was... unexpected. He hadn't thought he'd be able to bring her to her... height of pleasure without being inside her, completely. Clearly the stories that the other templar recruits had regaled him and his fellows with in their youth had been completely made up. That was definitely what was happening right now though.
She released a shuddering breath against his neck, and he could feel her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. The small puffs of air across his throat warmed his flesh, bringing a soft smile to his lips as he relished the feel of her relaxing in his arms. He could feel her hands ranging over the muscles in his back, and when he looked back up to her face... Maker. Her lips were puffy and redder than usual from their prolonged explorations of each other's mouths, and her eyelids blinked at him heavily, half-shading the deep green pools of her eyes which were now calm and utterly enraptured with his.
"Cullen..."
He leaned forward, gently this time, and recaptured her lips, removing his hands from her thighs and wrapping them around her waist. Their hips, still aligned, were now still. Cullen could feel her legs shaking with the aftershocks of her release, and knew that she wouldn't be able to maintain their position against the wall for much longer. He swept her up into his arms and carried her to her bed, placing her reverently beneath the covers. He retrieved his now wrinkled red shirt from the floor and shrugged back into it, then sat himself on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to speak. She didn't speak, however, she just looked at him with slight bewilderment in her eyes. She looked... utterly adorable. He wanted to kiss her again, he wanted to kiss her forever, but he knew he'd have to leave this room at some point. He contented himself with pushing a few of her stray hairs back behind her ear, and leaning his forehead against hers, breathing in the scent of her skin as he did so.
"Cullen... Is this actually happening?"
His eyes sprang open, and he pulled back, surveying her face. She looked confused, but not upset, like she was desperately trying to figure out if she was dreaming the entire situation or not. She was giving him an easy way out. He could tell her right now that everything that had happened between them had actually happened, that his feelings were real, that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her. He could tell her right now that he wanted to spend the rest of his life bringing her to the height of her pleasure, just so he could see that fulfilled look on her face. He suddenly remembered the look on her face when she'd first seen his bare torso, and wondered what look she'd have for him if she saw the rest of his body. He hoped she'd be just as pleased. He took a deep breath, then stopped. The damnable sleeping potions. His hands turned to fists in the bedclothes, and he sighed, pulling back.
"You know this is just a dream, Lilah. Do you think I'd actually act without restraint like this in reality? As much as I'd like to..."
Lilah pulled him close again, pushing her lips hard against his, meshing her fingers into his hair, eventually pulling him down on top of her onto the mattress.
"I don't think I want this dream to end, then."
Cullen didn't even make an effort to pull back this time. If this was what the lady wanted, who was he to refuse? The feel of her sweet lips against his was a torture he could endure until the end of time. This time it was her tongue begging entry, and he was only too happy to grant her access. It could have been minutes, days or hours, Cullen couldn't tell how long that tender kiss instigated by Lilah had gone on, but eventually her hands loosened from his hair and and her lips fell slack, as she drifted off into a deep, and hopefully dreamless, sleep.
Cullen crept from the bed, afraid that any large movements may awaken her, and slinked quietly towards the door. Thankfully, it opened silently, and he closed it just as silently behind him. He wished there was some way he could lock it behind him, because every fibre of his being was telling him not to leave that room, or that bed. He leaned his forehead against the heavy wooden door and sighed, then turned abruptly and began walking back down the corridor to the main hall. The bite mark on his shoulder was beginning to throb a little as well. He didn't want to wake any of the healers, but there was definitely a certain elven apostate who owed him a huge favour...
Cullen marched up to Solas' quarters and pounded on the door, hopefully loudly enough to awaken him from any Fade dreams he was involved in. A few seconds later, the rather bleary eyed mage opened his magically locked door, eyes widening when he saw the rumpled condition of the ex-templar.
"Goodness, whatever happened to you?"
Cullen pushed past him into the room and flopped unceremoniously into one of the chairs at Solas' table. Solas shrugged to himself and sat in the other chair facing him, waiting for him to speak.
"Never let her do that again, Solas. Never, ever give her an overabundance of sleeping potions, hallucinogens, don't even offer her a strong tea."
Solas' face fell, and he nodded somberly.
"It was that bad? I'm very sorry for making you go in my stead. I must seek your forgiveness, Commander."
Cullen sighed, and pulled his shirt away from his shoulder, showing the once more bleeding wound.
"Make this stop hurting and we're square."
Solas squinted at the wound on his shoulder, then his eyes widened.
"Is that a bite mark? She attacked you? How in Thedas did she manage to get you in that spot?"
Cullen rubbed a weary hand across his brow, and closed his eyes, slouching forward in the chair.
"That's none of your concern. Just clean the wound, disinfect it and stop the bleeding. I want to keep the scar."
Solas went to his potions chest, still pondering how a woman almost a full head shorter than Cullen managed to bite him in that particular spot, and came back to start patching him up.
"I could just remove the entire wound with a healing spell."
Cullen glared up at him, holding the neck of his shirt open, waiting for him to administer the salve in his hand.
"I told you I want to keep the scar. Stop asking questions."
He stifled a yawn, and barely winced when Solas applied the poultice to the tender wound, no more questions asked. When he was done, Solas cleared his throat politely.
"If that was all, Knight Captain...?"
Cullen paused, just before he walked out of the room, and turned back around.
"I don't suppose you have any sleeping draughts left. NORMAL sleeping draughts. I think I may need one, after the night I've had."
Solas reached into the pocket of his robe and brought out a small purple draught in a bottle.
"From the look of you when you walked in, I assumed you might be needing one. I'll trust you to administer it to yourself. Good night, Knight Captain."
Cullen accepted the small bottle, and nodded his thanks, leaving the room. After the door closed behind him, Cole appeared in a small flurry of dust and smoke.
"I don't understand Ser Cullen at all."
Solas nodded a greeting to Cole and set about climbing back up the ladder to the small perch he slept on.
"Why's that then?"
Cole sat on the edge of the table, swinging his legs, watching Solas climb.
"He was so happy just now, playing with the Inquisitor. Then his happiness disappeared as soon as he left her bed. How can someone's moods change so quickly?"
Solas nearly fell back down the ladder.
"Maker's Breath!"
Playing with the Inquisitor in bed? That would explain the bite mark then. Solas chuckled as he regained his footing and climbed the rest of the way back up to his bedroll. No wonder the man wanted to keep the scar. He'd make sure that nobody disturbed Ser Cullen on the morrow, either. The poor man looked like he needed a good nights rest.
END OF PART 04
Yes, there is a part 5. It's on it's way. I'm two weeks out from holidays so I should be able to knock it out then, along with the other six various fan fics I've been working on. 'Tis the season and all that! As always, read, review and enjoy!
Foxfire Out!