AN: Why so short? Because once again, dear readers, a good part of this chapter is only available on Archive of Our Own, under the username Unstoppablei, due to NSFW content that doesn't fall under this website's guidelines. So come on over to read the full chapter! Link on my profile (don't forget to copy and paste). Thanks, sorry for the disruption!

Chapter 19: Interruptions

Errol was going over documents in her chambers several days later when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in!" she said, checking to make sure that she was presentable. After the dancing in her underwear debacle that Sera still wasn't letting her live down, she now tried to dress in more Ferelden fashions even when alone. Now she was wearing a thin shift with a warm red robe over it, knotted at the waist, the furry collar high enough to cover the scar on the crux of her neck.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs. She stood from the desk and stretched, and then Cullen was there.

Errol was pretty sure she made an "eep!" as she lowered her arms and surreptitiously tried to smooth her morning hair. He wasn't in his armor, instead wearing a buttoned blue coat over dark pants and leather boots, his hands bare. His hair was mussed and there was more stubble on his face than usual, as if he had left in a rush.

"Good morning," she said awkwardly, curling her bare toes against the stone floor. "I, umm… would you like some breakfast?" She gestured to the bread and fruit plate on the corner of her desk.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a flush creeping up to his face. "Perhaps later," he said. "I didn't eat this morning."

"Is everything all right?" Errol asked, crossing to him. He smiled down at her and touched her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Everything is wonderful. I just… wanted to see you first thing, before the day fully started and we are pulled in a hundred different directions."

"Oh." Now it was her turn to blush. "Well, we do have some time. I was just going over plans for the ball, but my final dress fitting isn't scheduled for another two hours."

"Two hours?" he asked, and leaned down to ghost his lips along the outer shell of her ear. "I can think of a lot we can do in two hours."

"Can you now?" she murmured, a smiled curled up in her tone. Finally. They hadn't done anything but talk and steal a few heated kisses over the past few days. It had felt good, like getting to know and trust him all over again, but Errol knew that he felt as keenly as she did that the time for talking was over. She began to undo the buttons on his coat as his kisses moved down her neck, his nimble fingers untangling the knot on her robe. "Is that why you came here without armor today? To make things easy for me?"

"There are an awful lot of clasps and buckles," he said, sliding the robe off of her shoulders so that it pooled at her feet. Suddenly he paused, and his hand came up to the scar. "Maker, what is this? It looks like an animal bite. Were you mauled by a wolf?"

"They frequently attack us. This one just… got me. You can see why I usually cover it." He started to trace it with his fingers and she felt the magic stir, and jerked away. "Don't… don't touch it. It's still very tender."

Cullen obliged, moving his hand back to her waist. "It's amazing you didn't bleed to death." He shuddered and buried his face in her hair. "To think, the number of times I've almost lost you and didn't even know it."

"I'm here now," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "Safe, alive. With you. Dressed in almost nothing."

He pulled back and took in the sheerness of her slip for the first time. "That you are." He brought his hands up to where her nipples were peaking the fabric and gently brushed his thumbs along them. She bit her lip and pushed her chest out, aching for more friction, and he chuckled.

"My, aren't we eager," he said, wrapping his arms around the small of her back and pulling her in for a long kiss. When they broke apart his voice was lower, huskier. "Shall we move this to the bed?"

"It only took well over a year," she said, grabbing at his lapels, but he surprised her by sweeping her legs out from under her and carrying her to the bed.

"Minx," he said, putting her down and tossing aside his coat before crawling over her so that they were nose-to-nose, one forearm keeping him elevated, the other hand sliding her shift up to reveal that she wore nothing underneath. "Do you think this time has been easy for me?" His breath was becoming ragged. "Maker, how I have fantasized about you, dreamed of having you under me."

Errol tugged his head down and ran her tongue along the scar on his lip. "Do you think you're the only one?" she whispered, and he shuddered, his hand moving between her thighs.

"Errol, are you sure?" he asked, and he sounded like he was hanging on by a thread. "After what happened, this isn't— this isn't too fast?"

She nudged at his hand with her hips, opening herself to him. "Over a year," she reminded him, hands clutching his shirt. "If anything, you should go faster, Commander."

The rumble in his chest was somewhere between a groan and a purr as he bent his head to her neck. "So that's how it is to be?" She felt his stubble rasp against her skin as his teeth grazed the column of her throat. "Errol—"

There was a knock on the door, swiftly followed by a call so loud it must have been magically amplified. "Apologies, Inquisitor, Leliana says Lady Josephine is ready and waiting with the dressmaker for the final fitting."

Errol's head jerked up and nearly collided with Cullen's. "That's not supposed to be for two hours!"

The voice below somehow heard her. "She moved it up. To now. The dressmaker will be in your quarters in ten minutes. Please be ready and waiting." With that, the voice vanished.

They stared at each other. "Is this… a joke?" Errol said, her head still cloudy with lust. "I… ten minutes?"

Cullen closed his eyes and groaned. "Leliana doesn't joke. She's… Maker. I… must… I need a cold bath. Immediately."

"Next time," Errol promised, kissing him chastely on his forehead.

Errol was starting to think it wasn't just a series of bad coincidences.

They'd started to get creative. She'd thought of the barn, but Blackwall was always lingering there, and the moment he'd stepped away Sera had shown up, attempting a prank. Spare rooms weren't any good - it seemed that people just traipsed through rooms as if the locks weren't even there. Nothing in Skyhold seemed to be free of people forever searching for them.

When they finally left a lengthy War Room meeting the next evening, Cullen took her by the hand and led her down a side hall.

"Cullen, where are we—" she started, but he silenced her with a look over his shoulder.

They went down a short flight of steps and around another corner, and Errol suddenly found herself in the holy grail of Skyhold - where they kept the wine.

"Cullen, this is—" she started, excited, but he cut her off by spinning her around and pinning her to a massive barrel.

"Private," he growled, kissing her hard. He took her bottom lip between his teeth and pulled lightly at it, before releasing it and sliding his tongue into her mouth, his one hand in her hair, the other running along her leg to hook it around his waist. She gripped at his neck, his hair, his fur mantle, trying to find purchase anywhere she could. When he pulled away his eyes were bright, almost fevered.

"Maker, but I am tired of these interruptions," he breathed, his gaze never leaving hers as he removed his gloves one at a time by biting the tips of the fingers and tugging them off, letting them drop on the floor. Her leg was still around his waist, and he slid his now-bare fingers down and massaged her through her thin leggings. "I will take you here on the floor if I must, but I will have you."

"Get this damn armor off and you have a deal," she said.

Someone cleared their throat, and they both looked up.

One of the Spymaster's henchmen was dangling upside-down from a beam above them like it was normal. "Leliana says she needs to go over who will be accompanying the Inquisitor to the ball," he said, dropping a stack of papers and swinging away. "Immediately!"

Cullen stared at the papers like they were Corypheus himself. "She's doing this on purpose," he said deliriously. "She's trying to kill me. Am I hallucinating? Is this the lyrium withdrawal?"

Errol just sighed and combed her fingers through his hair. "Do you want to kill her together?"

"We must go over who will accompany us to Halamshiral."

Errol groaned and put her head in her hands. "Whoever you want, I don't care."

"You should care," Leliana reprimanded her. "Who we choose is vital, a combination of delicate force, strategy, and court approval. Now, Josephine, Cullen, and myself will accompany you, but I would recommend three other companions for the evening. And no, Cole can't be one of them. He'll terrify the court with his lurking."

Errol sighed. "Fine. Just three?"

"I said delicate force. You can't show up with too many numbers or you'll make the court suspicious."

Errol sat up and blew a stray hair out of her face. "Okay, who are you thinking of?"

"Definitely Varric, though Cassandra would disagree with me. He's a celebrity in Val Royeaux, everyone reads his books, plus he's silver tongued and has an ear for gossip. I'm torn between Cassandra and Vivienne - Cassandra is of noble blood and has a famous story to her name, but she is blunt and does not play the Game well. Vivienne is a master of the Game, but she has left her post and been notably replaced by another, which could lead to the wrong kind of gossip. Thoughts?"

"Why not both?"

"I have someone else in mind for the final spot."

Errol mulled it over as she took a sip of water. "Vivienne. She's a bitch, but she's the best bitch in the room. She'll insult them all and they'll think it's a compliment."

"Good." Leliana made a note on a piece of paper. "The final companion should be Solas."

Errol almost choked on her drink. "Why? He's an elf. Won't they look down on that?"

"Exactly. Elves are servants to the upper class. We'll introduce him as your servant and hide that he's a powerful mage. He'll be able to hear things we won't, and go places we can't." She looked at Errol with a raised eyebrow. "Is that a problem, Inquisitor?"

"I… I just don't think Solas will take kindly to being introduced as a servant."

"He will if he wishes to attend the ball and help stop the assassination." Her eyes narrowed. "You two are very curious. Half of the time you barely speak. The other half you're at each other's throats, though no one can seem to figure out why." She sighed. "And I do wish you'd cease conducting meetings with Dorian in the library simply to drink and sing along to those awful screeches you call music. I know it's in part to rattle Solas, but sound carries up as well as down, you know."

"Sorry. We'll find a new place. As for Solas and I… we have a… complicated relationship."

"Hmm," Leliana said, gathering up her paperwork. "Just make sure it doesn't complicate your relationship with Cullen." She stood as if to leave.

"Is that why you keep sending your minions to interrupt us? You don't trust me with him?"

Leliana looked at her with a deceptively blank face. "I have no idea what you're talking about. There is simply so much to do lately." Her lips quirked upward, just the tiniest amount. "It is a pity that Iron Bull and Dorian found their way to the War Room yesterday, isn't it? I wonder how they ever got that idea. Strange times, indeed." She shook her head and left the room.

Errol groaned and thumped her forehead against the table. "I really am going to kill her."