TITLE: Cullen's Dirty Little Secret

CHAPTER: 5, Ani L'Dodi, v'Dodi Li

Dorian heard the sound of Cullen's grunt of pain when they tied his legs open he changed as a man, and a mage. Here, this morning bound and lying in the thick wet grass he forgot himself. He forgot his family and his position as an Altus. He forgot that a man of good breeding and education does not allow himself to lose control. Rage boiled to the surface as the pain of his burnt hands faded. The thickening fog roiled and eddied around him. Throughout the fighting toward bringing down Corypheus, he fought well and with honor. Honor fled this morning when the sound of leather striking Cullen's flesh made him flinch as if the blow hit his own flesh.

Cullen followed him into the wilderness ready to stay by his side even when they reached Minrathous. What had he done? Hesitated. And by hesitating and withdrawing caused Cullen to doubt what they had together and what lay ahead. When he heard Cullen's gasp of pain, he made a vow to himself. A silent vow, which had nothing to do with family position, or politics or magic. He loved that silent blonde giant. In spite of their differences, in spite of Cullen's inbred distrust of Mages he'd held out his hand to Dorian. Allowed himself to learn to trust the Dark Necromancer from Trevinter. Each time they returned, tired and filthy, from a battle, when even the horses couldn't take one more step, Cullen had sought him out. Ready with a drink or a touch meant to sooth the terrors of battle and the pain of injuries.

They hit him again.

Their brutish ways marked the physical beauty of the man he loved. Dorian felt rather than heard, Cullen's teeth grinding together to keep from crying out. Cullen. The man he spent curled against on so many nights. The man whose scars were not simply scars of battle, but physical memories of a soldier's life. A life spent too often alone, freezing in a tent.

A pair of men for whom loneliness and isolated came too often, came together and discovered how good life could be when there is someone to live for, someone to come home too. Nights when too exhausted to move they simply lay together in the flickering candlelight and talked. There hadn't been enough of those and Dorian's vow included many more nights of passion and quiet romantic moments.

Tired of torturing the soldier they began to fight over who would take the first turn. Their squabbling covered the flash of fire igniting Dorian's hands and clothes. But his hands are free!

The leader snarled at them to back away, striking the man closest to him with the lash. The shuffling sound of clothes. The sound of the piggish man spitting in his hands and the filthy sound of his hand stroking himself to full arousal. The man would not live to know release.

With a blow of magic, Dorian freed himself and burned away the ropes around his ankles. In one graceful movement, he leaped to his feet. Whirling he aimed at the man on his knees behind Cullen. A wall of flame knocked the man aside, melting the skin from his bones. But not before Dorian caught the man's look of surprise and heard his scream of denial before dying with nothing but a greasy puddle to show he'd once been alive.

The others shouted in fear and tried to run. Instead of fire, Dorian summoned undead to finish the deed for him. The men would know the relentless horror of slow death and the pain of slashing fiery claws. He would see them tortured as they had tortured Cullen. Perhaps someday, Andraste would forgive him.

Dorian scrambled on his hands and knees toward Cullen slicing open the ropes that bound him. Lifting him into his arms Cullen sagged willingly against him. Dorian straightened Cullen's cloak to cover the torn flesh until they could be seen to.

"They're gone, Cullen."

A full minute later, Cullen's shivering subsided and he pulled away. His kiss of thanks burned Dorian's mouth with its emotional intensity and tasted of sweat and gratitude. Only Dorian would know of the sob that broke free from the soldier's stoic heart. Dorian swallowed it, absorbing it into his soul, hiding it within the kiss.

"I couldn't hear you. I thought they might have killed you." Cullen said with his forehead resting on the mage's dark locks.

Dorian chuckled. "You idiot. Worrying about me when…I couldn't stand their filthy hands on you."

With their joined hands he pressed them to his chest, "It was only my physical body. It knows pain. They could not touch what is in here."

Cullen noticed Dorian's wince of pain when he pressed his hands. Fresh emotion bubbled over, "Your hands. Your beautiful hands. Dorian?"

"They will heal. First, we must see the lash marks. If you will allow me?"

To his surprise, Cullen staggered to his feet, pulling his clothes together. Setting his jaw against the scrap of leather over the wounds. Dorian glimpsed the fear etching a new line of the warrior's brow.

"Know this, Warrior." The mage slowly pushed himself to his feet never taking his eyes off Cullen. "What I feel for you. This thing some call love. Nothing, as I am beginning to understand, will change that. Yes?"

Turning away from the place of death, Dorian gathered the horses, while Cullen checked their equipment. In their greed to get at Cullen most of their belongings hadn't been touched. In a few minutes they were ready to move on. Dorian chuckled at himself, he could not pull gloves over this hands without gloves he wouldn't be able to hold the reins.

Without responding, Cullen gathered the reins from Dorian. "We need a healer, Mage. I will lead the horses the walk isn't far and I'm done with this retched fog."

It was too soon, but the question tumbled from him anyway. Afraid of the truth, but unable to bear the not knowing a moment longer, "Will you enter Minrathous by my side, Warrior?"

Cullen shied away and his cheeks suffused with pink. When he responded his dry humor had returned. "When this humble soldier is shocked by a level of decadence he's never known will you be there to keep me from making a fool of myself or picking the wrong fork?"

The mage's heart sang with joy. Words of reassurance poured from him.

"The only decadence you will know is the feather ticking of the mattress in my bed chamber. The silk sheets and down-filled blanket waiting to wrap you in comfort. The reliable privacy of my personal living spaces. Waking, not to a soldier's cold rations, but food prepared to please the palate and nourish the body. Days spent as you wish, in solitude or among new friends, in study or pleasure in whatever means you may imagine. If you wish to work among the soldiers than a place will be found for you. A place of honor and substance."

Cullen reached out and took Dorian's hand. They laced their fingers gently together before Dorian continued. "For my part, I shall seek the guidance of Cullen Rutherford whose reliable common sense and foresight will keep me on a firm path toward helping my people. And we shall not hide what we have together, instead we will celebrate. This is the confidence I know at your side, Warrior. Will you allow me to return the full measure of whatever about me pleases you?"

With eyes brimming they embraced silently. Only the sound of the their impatient horses pulled them apart.

"Yes, to all those things and learning my place at your side."

Dorian shook his head, "We stand together now, Cullen. This very morning. It shall be for others to learn about their place with us."

Then hand in hand they descended the path into the sunlight and the entrance to the Imperial Highway and the narrow bridge leading to Minrathous.

Ani L'Dodi, v'Dodi Li "I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine…" Song of Solomon 6:3