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?
The Inquisitor gazed intently at the table, her head tilted slightly to the right, scanning over the vellum folds of the ornately hand-painted maps before her. A small wrinkle formed between her eyebrows as she mulled over the information she'd been given by her three advisors, trying to ascertain which methods would be best used to achieve the Inquisition's objectives for the immediate future. Either that, or she was struggling to stay awake. Cullen was trying to not openly stare at her from across the table, but he could tell that she wasn't truly focused on the task at hand. He cleared his throat softly at the exact same moment that Leliana reached around the table and touched her gently on the arm.
"Inquisitor? What is your decision?"
Leliana's soft voice seemed to break through whatever reverie had transfixed the Inquisitor for the past few moments, as she blinked and suddenly seemed to remember where she was. Her left hand rose and rubbed her brow unconsciously, as she raised her eyes from the map and surveyed both her companions and her advisors. Her hand moved from her brow to run through her hair, and the right side of her mouth quirked up into an apologetic smile.
"Forgive me, friends, I need a little time. Decisions of such gravity shouldn't be made without deep thought and..."
She was cut off mid-sentence by Cassandra slamming an ornate dagger into the table directly in front of her, and roughly grabbing her shoulder.
"You've been thinking for three bloody days! I'm tired of lurking around this bloody ridiculous castle with nothing to do!"
Each sentence Cassandra uttered was accompanied by a rough shake of Lilah Trevelyan's shoulders, of which she now held both. The smaller woman looked up into Cassandra's face calmly, even as holy fire seemed to be raining down on her from the fierce warrior's eyes. Varric nudged Sera, who was gazing at the scene before them, transfixed.
"That's two, Butterfly."
Sera glanced sideways at him, then returned her sight to the action in front of them.
"Two what, Varric. Two incredibly good looking woman fighting? I kind of didn't miss that."
Varric shook his head, and chuckled.
"Two 'bloody's' in one confrontation. Cassandra's mad as hell. I don't know how Lilah's gonna survive this."
Sera crossed her arms, still not looking away.
"Lilah is unflappable. She is yet to... flap. Now stop interrupting, this is just getting interesting."
Cassandra had pushed Lilah against the map table, her backside now resting against the edge of the carved wood. Cassandra's fists were pushing into the table on either side of Lilah's hips, and their foreheads were almost touching. Lilah's face was still calm, but her right eye was starting to twitch, a telltale sign of her keeping her temper in check. Cassandra was glaring straight into the aforementioned eyes, and her resolve didn't seem to be diminishing.
"Just. Bloody. Pick. Something."
Solas, who had been standing silently beside Varric, crossed his arms and sighed.
"That would be three."
Varric snorted with laughter, glancing over at the somewhat stoic elven mage.
"Solas! I'm surprised, I thought this kind of behaviour was beneath you."
The elf sighed, and rolled his neck from side-to-side.
"Maybe I'm sick of being in this bloody castle as well. Or maybe I'm just overtired. Either way, something has to break Trevelyan out of this..."
He struggled to find a word, and Varric stepped in, always happy to offer his services as a human (well, dwarven) thesaurus.
"Funk? Post-battle malady? Sullenness?"
Solas rubbed a hand over his eyes, and stifled a chuckle.
"Is it out of line to refer to our fearless leader as sullen?"
Varric shrugged, and cracked his knuckles.
"I think it would be out of line if we said she was pouting. Or being a big baby. Sullen is fine."
Lilah's gaze still hadn't left Cassandra's. She very carefully moved her right hand to where Cassandra's right arm was keeping her imprisoned and moved it aside, allowing herself just enough room to escape the Seeker's 'cage', then resumed her position in front of the table.
"I will pick something when I'm good and ready. I will not be rushed, Seeker. This is my Inquisition, and I will see it succeed with as little of our own blood shed as possible. It's only been a week since we found Leliana being... tortured by those fiends at Redcliffe."
Her voice caught in her throat as she remembered stumbling into the torture chamber and finding her 'Mistress of Secrets' chained up, beaten and barely mobile.
"I won't let anything like happen again. You have my word as The Inquisitor and..."
A bell started resounding down the hall, and everyone in the room seemed to let out a collective breath. Iron Bull's nose started twitching as he smelled the evening's dishes being brought up from the basement kitchen.
"And it's dinner time! Let's go!"
His cheerful bellow seemed to break the tension in the room as all twelve of them, companions and advisors alike, began to head for the door. Cassandra pushed through first, cursing loudly and profusely in her native Nevarran tongue, followed closely by Iron Bull. No-one was going to beat him to the serving table. Cole touched Varric lightly on the arm, a look of concern crossing his already pale face.
"Varric? What was Lady Cassandra saying?"
Varric slung his arm around the skinny young man's waist and steered him down towards the banquet hall.
"You don't wanna know, Kid. You don't wanna know. You comin', Beardy?"
Blackwall sighed, closing his eyes and raising his face to the ceiling.
"Maker, give me strength. What have I told you about that ridiculous nickname, Varric? A fair few people around this Keep have beards, you could be referring to any of them."
Varric nodded, but seemed unphased.
"That may be true, but everyone else around the Keep knows I only give nicknames to the 'Inner Circle' as it were. All those other beardy's can take a hike."
Dorian politely stepped aside to let Vivienne through the door next, while surreptitiously feeling the material of her dress sleeve.
"Vivienne, my dear, is this Orlesian silk? It seems much finer than I remember?"
Vivienne chuckled and placed her hand on his arm.
"Oh Dorian, sweet Dorian. You're so behind the times. All of the best silks are coming out of Antiva now. Do catch up!"
Dorian placed his hand atop hers, and escorted her down the majestic staircase to the banquet hall.
"Do tell, Vivienne. A man of my impeccable tastes simply can't be left behind. Antiva, you say..."
Josephine slipped through the door after excusing herself politely to Lilah and the other two advisors, and nodding to the remaining companions. Cullen and Leliana exchanged a worried glance, then Leliana moved around the table to stand at Lilah's side.
"I thank you for your concern, Inquisitor, but my health is improving daily. Every day I spend among fine company and away from Redcliffe seems to be doing me a world of good."
Lilah didn't raise her eyes from the maps, and her shoulders hunched forward as she looked even more closely at her options.
"It was still my fault that you ended up captured though. I never should have sent you there, I should have known the danger..."
Leliana nudged her in the side, and spoke a little more sharply.
"How could you have known? Are you suddenly a Seer? Did you come back from the Fade with even more powers than you're letting on? You can't tell the future, Trevelyan. What if you had sent someone less experienced then me? They could have divulged everything during torture, about the Keep, about the Inquisition, about your power to open and close rifts at will. Imagine the damage of all that information falling into enemy hands. I'M glad you sent ME there. Now pull yourself out of this ridiculous shame spiral and let us do our jobs!"
She turned on her heel, rather abruptly, and hissed in pain as her knee twisted. Clearly Leliana wasn't as healed as she'd let on. She stalked toward the door, limping slightly, then disappeared down the hallway.
Cullen was at a loss. He didn't want to say anything comforting that could be implied as him being too soft on her, but he also didn't want to add to the pile of harsh truths that had already been heaped on her. He moved around the table to where she stood and cleared his throat once again to catch her attention. She jumped a little and looked up at him.
"Ah! I'm fine, really..."
She trailed off, and blushed slightly at her overreaction. He narrowed his eyes slightly, noting her slightly redder-then-normal cheeks and overly bright eyes.
"I hadn't asked how you were, Inquisitor."
He moved to stand in front of her, and grasped both her shoulders, making her look up at him with a slightly perturbed look on her face.
"I don't know if I'd survive a shaking by you, Ser Cullen, if that is your intention."
He shook his head, silently cursing himself for accidentally mirroring what Cassandra had done to her earlier. Even so, she still looked up into his eyes, completely trusting him. He struggled to find the words he was searching for, then found them.
"I'm not here to coddle you, Inquisitor, nor am I here to berate you for your past actions. As one of your advisors, I thought it best to actually offer you some advice for once. Take your time. Take all the time you need. You should never make rash decisions in battle. If there is a better path to take, take it, even if that path is longer than the more direct route. Don't let anyone rush you into anything you're not ready for, and fully think through all your decisions. That's the only way you'll stay true to yourself, and make this Inquisition the best and strongest it can be."
Cullen released her shoulders, and surveyed her face. Those dark green eyes of hers were gazing up at him wide and surprised, and her mouth had fallen open into an 'O' of shock. He couldn't help but look at those lovely red lips of hers, and slightly parted as they were his mind immediately fell to thinking about what it would be like to kiss her. That would definitely make her look more shocked and surprised. Her voice broke him from his reverie.
"I... err... Thank you, Ser Cullen. I'm sorry to have troubled you."
He nodded to her politely, and turned to leave the room, when she called out to him again.
"Ser Cullen! I'll do my best to... I'll just do my best. I won't ignore your good counsel."
Cullen smiled softly, gave a small bow, and exited the room, leaving only Solas and Sera who were still gathering their things before heading down to dinner. He walked to the end of the corridor to the large window that overlooked the courtyard, and sat for a moment, enjoying the view. What a meeting that had turned out to be! Before Leliana's incarceration, the Inquisitor would have picked three objectives at random and sent whoever was available to see that the job was done. Now... He sighed and ran a hand through his wavy, blond hair, his gaze darkening. She'd been scared by this close call, and had lost her nerve. It happened to the best of soldiers, and the Inquisitor did have a lot of responsibility for one so young. He'd been young once too, and foolhardy, and he'd paid for those decisions dearly. He could see a lot of himself reflected in the Inquisitor. He decided to linger in the hallway a little longer. The view through the window was rather nice after all. It's not like he was waiting to escort her to dinner or anything.
Lilah had returned to staring at the table after Cullen had left, when she notice Solas and Sera about to head out the door.
"Solas, could I speak to you for a moment. In, uh... In private?"
Solas stopped in the doorway, with Sera at his side, and turned around.
"Of course"
Sera grabbed his sleeve just as he was turning to go.
"Don't be too long, or you'll miss out on the fresh trout again. We all know how much you hate beef."
He glanced at her, worried, then looked back towards Lilah. Last time there had been fresh trout, Iron Bull had grabbed the entire platter and had absconded with it to his quarters.
"Save me some, will you?"
Sera shook her head, cheekily, and grinned.
"That's not how this works, mate. First in, first served, you know the rules."
Solas growled under his breath as Sera sauntered off, laughing. He turned to face Lilah, reschooling his face into its usual calm mask.
"What can I do for you, Trevelyan?"
Cullen was still lurking in the hallway. Not lurking, that sounded far too... sordid. He was just waiting until the noise had died down before he followed everyone downstairs. And if the Inquisitor just so happened to be walking in the same direction, he might be convinced to walk along beside her and exchange a few pleasantries. It would be only fitting, as a gentleman and as one of her trusted advisors, to make sure she made it to her meal unmolested. He noticed Sera leaving the map room alone, and could hear voices drifting out through the open door. The Inquisitor and Solas, the elven apostate, seemed to be having a rather animated conversation. Solas' voice was its usual low, calming timbre, but the Inquisitor's voice was growing louder and more panicked as the conversation wore on. He was considering moving away, so as not to eavesdrop, when a loud smacking sound rang out from inside the room, followed by a curse.
"You bastard! It's your job to serve the Inquisition, and this is what I need to keep the Inquisition going!"
That was the Inquisitor.
"I've already told you, I can't help you anymore! It's time for you to sort out your own problems, without me! I wash my hands of it!"
That was Solas. So the elf actually did have an emotional side.
"Wait, Solas! What should I do?"
She did sound rather upset. Maybe he'd stumbled upon a lover's quarrel. Cullen's stomach did a strange little flip when that thought occurred to him. Imagining the Inquisitor being involved with anyone made him feel uncomfortable, but with an apostate? Even though Solas came across as one of the 'good guys', he'd been living in the wilds so long, the Maker could only know if he'd had any blood mage associates or demonic dealings in all that time. The brief silence in the room was broken by Solas as he walked to the doorway, turned, and spoke back into the room in parting.
"Perhaps you should stop slapping the people who are trying to help you. That would be a good start."
Solas started to stalk off down the hallway, then noticed the shadow lying on the floor to his right.
"You'd best come out, Knight Captain, lest I blast you with a fireball by accident. That's what we apostates do, is it not?"
Cullen stepped out of the relatively shadowy alcove and inclined his head towards Solas, not trace of a smile on his face.
"Was that a lover's quarrel I just heard the end of? I have no objection, of course, in these troubled times we must find what happiness we can, but if the Inquisitor's mental state is in question, we don't know how her 'special powers' may be affected."
Solas snorted derisively, and shook his head.
"If a lover's quarrel is the first thing you think of at a time like this, we are definitely in a sorry state of affairs. No, Knight Captain, Trevelyan and I have not engaged in a romantic relationship. She's not my type."
Cullen scratched his head, frowning, then continued his line of questioning. He found it very hard to believe that anyone could find the Inquisitor not to their liking.
"If not that, then what could provoke her to... well..."
Solas rubbed his cheek absentmindedly, and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips.
"To slap me? Yes, I suppose that did make it look a bit suspicious, didn't it? I've decided to stop treating her, for the time being."
Cullen furrowed his brow, still not following.
"Treating her? What do you mean?"
Solas sighed, and rubbed his eyes.
"Treating her. As her healer. Or medic, if you wish to use the more military vernacular."
Cullen felt as if he'd suddenly let go of a deep breath. He hadn't realised he'd been holding it. He was just so relieved that there was nothing going on between the elf and the Inquisitor. He quickly composed himself and started to walk along with Solas, who was heading down the stairs to the banquet hall.
"Is the Inquisitor ill? Is it serious?"
Solas' steps slowed, and he eyed the ex-templar suspiciously.
"What business is it of yours? Trevelyan entrusted me with her care, she abused that trust, and now I'm no longer looking after her. Until she comes to her senses again, anyway."
Cullen grabbed the elven mage's arm firmly, and both men stopped walking.
"It's my business if our people die. If she's not able to make a clear tactical choice, lives hang in the balance. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if more people got tortured or killed because of her. Now tell me what's wrong with her."
Solas gazed back at Cullen, unperturbed by the fact that he had almost growled that final sentence at him. He'd had a sudden realisation.
"You care about her."
Cullen let go of Solas' arm, and stepped back to a less threatening distance.
"Of course I do. She's the head of the Inquisition. I'm one of her advisors. Anyone could see that."
Solas shook his head, that ghost of a smile tickling his lips again.
"That's not what I meant, Knight Captain. You care about her, as any good man should care about the woman he lo..."
Cullen shook his head.
"You're wrong. You're... reading too much into this. Just tell me what's wrong with her. Please."
Solas sighed, and began his journey to dinner again, Cullen following along beside him.
"For the last week, ever since we rescued Leliana from Redcliffe, she's been experiencing night terrors, bad dreams that plague her sleep. She barely slept at all those three nights travelling back from Redcliffe. When she arrived back at the Keep she requested a sleeping potion, to help her achieve some rest. Apparently it didn't work, but it made her sluggish for the rest of the next day. To make up for that, she took some stamina potions to keep her alert enough to make it through the day. Then when evening came, she appeared requesting another sleeping potion. I always make sure she drinks them in my presence, so I know they've been taken appropriately. This one didn't work either though, according to her, and so she spent another day downing stamina potions to keep alert. Last night she came to me again, and I gave her the strongest sleeping draught I had. It's more of a tranquiliser than a sleeping potion, I used to use it in the wilds to bring down large beasts so I could kill them more easily. The active ingredient is an exceptionally rare flower called 'Harlot's Blush'. Now I watched her drink that potion last night, then walk, albeit unsteadily, towards her chamber to go to sleep."
Cullen sighed as they neared the bottom of the stairs, and ran a hand over his hair.
"Let me guess - it didn't work. So that little argument I saw earlier was you refusing her any more trips to your apothecary?"
Solas snorted softly.
"Yes. The alchemist is now officially closed, as it were. I would no more give her any more sleeping potions then I'd give a child a pet dragon. The results would be... disastrous at best."
Cullen sighed again as they entered the banquet hall.
"Thank you for your candour, Solas, I shall trouble you with my presence no longer..."
Solas raised his hand to interrupt Cullen just before he left.
"Might I ask a favour of you, Knight Captain? If it's not too much trouble, can you check on Trevelyan later for me this evening? I fear that in the mood she's in right now, any advances I make towards her will be turned against me. I just want her to get some good, natural sleep."
Cullen inclined his head toward Solas and smiled slightly.
"Of course. Are there any side effects from these draughts I need to look out for. Will she be safe to be left alone?"
Solas thought for a moment.
"She should be fine. Since I didn't give her anything tonight, it will just be the past three nights draughts wearing off. There may be some very slight issues with inflated bravado, somnambulism, sleep-talking and waking dreams, but that shouldn't be anything to worry about. No, no, everything should be fine. Good luck, Knight Captain."
Solas turned and sat down next to Sera, who in turn looked both surprised and awed by whom he'd been walking with.
"You were talking to Cullen. You were talking to him and not trying to murder each other. Am I in the Fade?"
Solas ignored her, scoured the table with his eyes until he spotted the baked trout, grabbed two of them, and sighed happily.
Cullen had filled his own plate and was eating by himself at a table in the corner. Neither Josephine nor Leliana were present. They must have taken supper in their rooms, and Cullen didn't feel comfortable enough with the Inquisitor's companions to dine with them. He wondered if he'd managed to walk down to dinner with the Inquisitor if she would have been happy to share a table with him. He hoped she would. She seemed personable enough, at least during the few times he'd been able to speak with her outside of the map room, around the grounds of the Keep. He knew that she was the all important head of the Inquisition, but she was also a normal human being. Well, almost normal. She did have that whole green-glowing-left-hand-can-open-fade-rifts situation. But she wasn't a mage, so those powers were entirely new to her and could disappear at any time, hopefully. He narrowed his eyes while thinking this, and snorted out a low chuckle. Why was he hoping her power would disappear? It was the only real advantage they had at the moment. As he was clearing his plate, he noticed Solas hurrying towards him, so he stood to meet him.
"Ser Mage? Is there something else?"
Solas had a worried frown forming between his eyes, as he bobbed his head slightly in greeting.
"Yes... Maybe? I don't know. It was just something that occurred to me, a few other things you may have to look out for. I realised that I haven't seen Trevelyan eat an entire meal in the past three days, so any effects she's feeling from those potions may be greatly magnified. Also..."
Solas stammered to a halt, and a faint blush seemed to creep over his cheeks.
"What? How bad is it?"
Cullen knew he wasn't going to like whatever the mage had to say next.
"Harlot's Blush, that rare, expensive flower I used in the most potent sleeping draught. It's also a rather strong hallucinogen, popular among some of the more... free-spirited Dalish tribes. They use it in spirit quests, coming of age trials, things like that. It is, however, also used in some other communities as an aphrodisiac, and a rather strong one at that."
Cullen grabbed the mage by his lapels and pulled him closer, to hiss his ire directly into Solas' face.
"What were you thinking, giving her something like that?"
Solas had the good graces to look rather crestfallen as he pulled himself back to arms length from the now fuming ex-Templar.
"I wasn't thinking, obviously. She wanted to sleep, and so did I. I knew how the ingredients affected elves, but I wasn't sure about the effects on a human. Elves react to things more strongly than humans, so hopefully Trevelyan won't have to deal with any of these issues. I just grabbed the first phial I came across and handed it over. And it should have worked. Trevelyan seems to be the most utterly resilient individual I've ever met."
Cullen barked out a laugh at that exceptionally true statement, and let go of the mage's robes, raising his hands to massage his temples, eyes closed against the oncoming storm.
"Resilient, yes, I'll give her that much. Very well, Ser Mage, I shall heed your warnings. If you'll excuse me..."
Solas rearranged his robes, then turned and walked off. Sera sidled up to him, hooking her arm through his.
"Sooo... How rare are these flowers, and how much will you pay me to supply them to you?"
Solas looked down at the arm hooked through his, and back to Sera's face.
"I didn't think I was your type, Sera. And just how much of that conversation did you overhear?"
Sera tilted her head to the right and looked up at the taller mage.
"I heard 'rare, expensive' and 'hallucinogen'. I didn't hear what it was in regards to, but with the mood Cullen's nursing right now I assume it has something to do with Lilah. But that's none of my business. And no, sadly, you are still not my type."
Solas sighed and started walking towards the tavern, where he knew Sera would likely be heading next.
"So, why the interest in the Harlot's Blush flowers?"
Sera grinned up into his face, and patted his arm.
"Sweetheart, don't you know me by now? I go where the money and adventures are. If these flowers are rare, they most likely grow in dangerous places. All you have to do is point me in the right direction, and soon you'll be swimming in blossoms."
Solas looked down at her, slightly alarmed.
"I don't really need that many, Sera."
Sera sighed, and her steps sped up as they neared the roaring fire and ruckus of her beloved night spot.
"Details, details... Now come and have a drink!"
Cullen heard their voices trailing off, and decided to go to the library for an hour or so before checking in on the Inquisitor. The woman probably wanted some peace after that travesty of a meeting this afternoon. He felt he should have stepped in when Cassandra had grabbed her, but something in the way the Inquisitor had let it all happen had seemed to hold him in check. She had been in control even when her back had been literally against the wall, or map table as it were. Though technically it hadn't been her back against the table. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had let his eyes wander over the well-toned curves of the Inquisitor's body, only when he knew she wasn't looking. He'd watched her training in the courtyard, beads of sweat rolling down the back of her neck, and Maker help him he'd wanted to lick that sweat right off her. That long, black hair of hers flying out behind her as she leapt through the air, daggers outstretched. He could imagine himself tangling his fingers through that hair as their lips meshed together, her body molding to his. He'd had to leave that alcove in the courtyard rather quickly, before anyone had seen him there, mouth gaping open and eyes wide, staring at her like a love-struck teenager.
Cullen suddenly realised that in his dazed state he'd actually managed to make it to the library. The doors were open and the fire was burning merrily. By one of the large, leather armchairs an open book lay on the floor, it's pages fluttering in a cross-breeze. He paced over and picked it up, ready to replace it on the shelf, then stopped when he read the title.
"The Eye in Inquisition - Adventures among the Holy Order by Varric Tethras, volume three. Maker, it's happening again..."
Cullen squinted down at the small print, then flicked through and found some of the illustrations.
"This is world's worse than 'Hard in Hightown'. How does he manage it? Where does he find the paper? Does he have a secret room full of writers just following his every whim?"
Cullen started scouring the rest of the tables and shelves for any more copies of 'The Eye in Inquisition'. He'd have that fire burning even more merrily by the time he was done. Before he knew it two hours had passed and thirteen copies, volumes one through four, had all met the flames. It was nearing ten-thirty at night, and he was starting to grow weary himself, now that his downright indignation at only barely being mentioned in two volumes of Varric's masterwork had started to cool. He rubbed his chin, and stood up from the too comfortable arm chair, ready to head up to his rest. He reached his tower, and unstrapped his armour, carefully placing it on the mannequin by the door, and started to pull off his shirt when he remembered his promise to Solas to look in on the Inquisitor.
"Bloody Void..."
He mumbled the curse under his breath, and shrugged out of the shirt anyway, pulling a fresh one from his clothes shelf. His black pants and boots were still fine, and the deep red of the fresh shirt brought out the auburn highlights in his blond hair. Not that he cared, of course. There was absolutely no reason for him to try and make himself look nice. No reason at all. He decided to wash his face as well. He looked at himself in the small round shaving mirror above his wash basin, and rolled his eyes.
"What is wrong with you? You're thirty-five years old. Stop acting like a stupid little... boy..."
He sighed, and picked up his sword, then looked at it and placed it back on the rack, choosing a smaller dagger instead. He wouldn't have any use for a sword at this time of night, surely. With the dagger secured at his hip, he closed the door to his chambers and headed down the corridor to the Inquisitor's chambers on the far side of the keep. While he walked he started thinking about how she'd acted this afternoon again. When he came over to her and clasped her shoulders, she hadn't tensed, nor had she looked away from him. She had just looked up at him with those pretty eyes of hers, waiting to see what he'd do. If there hadn't been anyone else in the room with them he may have done something other than just offer her some advice. With that dark green gaze trained only on him, he'd almost come undone. He would have happily confessed his undying love for her, but he knew that any chance at reciprocation was futile.
What woman in their right mind would choose to be with an ex-Templar? He'd been brought up in the Chantry, and had started Templar training at the age of fifteen. He'd become a full knight in the order by the age of twenty, and during all of this time he'd never even come close to sleeping with anyone, let alone having a proper relationship. True, he'd had dalliances with some of the female recruits, but none so serious as to warrant their supervisors stepping in. He knew his way around the female anatomy, but was yet to take that one final step. Then at the age of twenty-five he'd been posted to Kinloch Hold, and three years later all hell had broken loose. He had been a broken man, tormented by his own demons, even after the actual demons had been destroyed. The only bright spark that had stood out for him at that time was Ceridwen Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden, who hadn't been a hero at that point, just a normal (or as close to normal as the Grey Wardens come) woman, who had come to save the Tower and all of it's occupants, including himself. The fact that one woman could stand up to the demons of the Fade and emerge victorious was... amazing. She was clearly enamoured of her fellow Grey Warden Alistair though, so Cullen entertained no overtures towards her.
Two years after that, when he had resettled in Kirkwall, he'd met another woman of merit by the name of Rhiannon Hawke. She had saved his life when a recruit he had been questioning had not only turned into a demon himself, but managed to summon a plethora of demons to come to his aid. Hawke and her companions had come rushing over the hill and jumped straight into the fray, hacking and slashing until everything unnatural had been returned to whence it came. She'd introduced herself, still bloody and breathing heavily from the fight while her friends were looting the bodies, and he'd felt a twinge in his gut. He'd known that this woman would turn out to be another Hero, much like Cousland. Hawke already had her eye on one of her followers though, a tall lyrium tattooed elf by the name of Fenris, who equally seemed to have his eyes firmly fixed on her as his own conquest, so Cullen once again left well enough alone. In the end, the only thing Cullen could do for Hawke was bend a knee to her after she had defeated Meredith and name her Viscount of Kirkwall. A Champion and a Viscount. He most definitely did not think himself worthy of such a prize
Now here he was, thirty-five years old and running the same loop again. Another young female Hero was making herself a legend, and he would most likely have to step aside for whichever of her companions she chose to fall hopelessly in love with. Bonds grew closer when you traveled and fought together constantly. Hell, he didn't even know what her preferences were. From the close proximity she'd been sharing with Cassandra that afternoon, perhaps she enjoyed an even closer relationship with the Seeker than she let on. Cullen had reached the Inquisitor's chambers, and knocked on the door lightly.
"Inquisitor? Are you there?"
He pushed on the door and it opened, revealing a slightly messy but organised antechamber full of maps, books and piles of vellum scrolls in various states of unrolling. He assumed, correctly, that her bedroom would be in another side room and so scoured the walls until he found another door half open to the left of her desk. He walked over to it and knocked once again, even though it was fairly obvious there was nobody in there.
"Hello?"
He called again, hopefully, but knew if there was no reply it probably wasn't because she was sleeping peacefully in her bed. She just wasn't here. He could see from the doorway that her bed was empty, and that somehow gave him a sense of dread. Where the devil was she, if not in her room? He strode back out of her antechamber and pulled the door closed behind him. He'd start looking where he'd last seen her, the Map room no more than four hours earlier. Surely she wouldn't still be there. As luck would have it, as soon as he turned the corner he could see the lamps lit within said room, and his steps quickened as he hurried towards the still open door. He grasped the door-frame as he peered in and breathed a sigh of relief. She was sitting on a stool facing the door, with her head resting on her arm, her long black hair splayed out across the table. Her eyes still appeared to be open, so she still hadn't succumbed to sleep yet, but were unfocused as she gazed at the maps before her. The lamplight playing off her alabaster skin almost seemed to make her glow. For a moment Cullen thought he was looking at an angel, then he came to his senses and entered the room.
"Thank the Maker! You had me worried for a moment when I couldn't find you, Inquisitor."
The Inquisitor raised her head and blinked at him, as if in confusion.
"Cullen? You're here early."
Cullen looked at her, and raised an eyebrow in question. She'd never forgotten to address him as 'Ser' before. The familiarity of his name dropping from her lips without the honorific prefix made his stomach flip, but this time in a much more pleasant manner. But her statement about the time of his arrival was quite a mystery.
"Early, Inquisitor? What do you mean?"
She stifled a yawn, and stretched her arms above her head, and Maker help him he couldn't stop his gaze from dropping to her bosom. He was a man, after all, and if these things presented themselves before him, who was he to deny his baser nature. She finished stretching and looked at him, watching her.
"See something you like?"
Cullen blushed and looked away. She'd finally caught him.
"Forgive me, Inquisitor. It won't happen again."
The Inquisitor stood and walked around the table to stand in front of him, standing with her hands on her hips.
"This is definitely an odd dream. You don't usually appear until I'm in my bedchamber. And you're calling me Inquisitor all the time, like you do during the day. You usually call me Lilah. And you apologised for ogling me. A very odd dream indeed."
Cullen's eyes widened when he realised what was going on. The woman thought she was asleep! More importantly, she mentioned that he made regular appearances in her dreams, usually in her bedchamber where he called her Lilah, and generally didn't have to apologise for ogling her. He couldn't help but grin, but the grin slid off his face when she reached up and stroked his cheek, her fingers lingering at the scar on his lip.
"I'm also wondering why you're taking so long to kiss me..."
END OF PART 01
And that's the end of Part 1 - hopefully this will just be two parts as I'm working on something slightly longer, which is also Inquisitor/Cullen based. Read, review and enjoy :-)
Foxfire out!