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Chapter 31: Affairs of the Heart Pt.1

Having slept past their usual hour all on account of her leaving the next morning for the Emerald Graves, it was a pleasant, if indulgent, experience for Evelyn to be woken up by sunlight that reached her high up in her tower. Having spent the last four days in each other’s company had been exactly what they needed to rekindle their blooming relationship. The clear blue sky and white-capped mountains amplified the warm yellow glow streaming in through the leaded stained-glass windows. The rays were so thick, that it was as if she could breathe them in with each deep inhale while she stretched. Turning to look over her shoulder she was met with a shining head of golden hair melding in with the light as if he wore a divine halo. The creases and tension that typically adorned his face were smoothed while he slept, making him look carefree nestled into the pillows. Studying his face as if she were a portraitist, Evelyn tried to commit Cullen's current state into her memory to take with her when she awakened alone in a canvas tent.

Facing forward, she closed her eyes, savoring his body's feel against hers in his tight embrace. With her backside flush against his front and his arm and leg pressing her into the downy mattress, he held her as if she'd float away should he let go. They had not moved their position for the past few hours, a fact that was confirmed by the significant dribble of drool she left on the arm he tucked under her. Wiping the evidence away of her long night of serenading him with her snoring, Evelyn spun to face him. Maker, he was unfairly handsome, and she couldn't help but caress his face along with the sunlight. Their first night back at Skyhold he had a bad nightmare, but that was only one because of Elissa Cousland's surprise appearance. Every other night had just consisted of his usual restless turning and jumping in and out of the covers because he'd get too hot.

Naturally, the bright light and her loving touches stirred him from his peaceful slumber. The past week of sharing a bed still seemed like a novelty, for each time he opened his eyes to see her, it was always with a start before smiling. This morning was no different.

When his sleepy eyes met her sultry gaze, she whispered sweetly to him, "Why is it you always look surprised to see me in the morning?" He smiled that rare grin at her, the contagious one that had yet to be burdened by the day's challenges.

With a deep breath causing his solid chest to rise a few inches as he reached his arms above his head, he settled back into the covers with her. "I still can't believe it, that's why."

She laughed with a luminous smile and brought her hands up to rest on his pectorals. Her fingertips glided through their coarse light-colored hair and he chin rested on him as well, "Pray tell, what's so unbelievable about it? The fact that you can sleep through my horrid snoring? Absolutely."

They chuckled together and his hand found its way to her hip, kneading the muscles around it, "I appreciate you recognizing my aptitude for heavy sleeping, that comes with living in a barracks, but no, that's not it." His honeyed eyes gazed at her in such a way she found herself breathless. "I truly believed that I'd never have this."

With a sympathetic nod, she knew exactly what he meant. For how long had they been told that a life outside of the confines of the Circle was impossible? That simply enjoying the comfort of another person was forbidden, despite basic instinctual needs. That love was unattainable. It was something normal people took for granted, to wake up every morning beside their partner before beginning their day. Did they acknowledge each other? Ask how they slept. Ignore each other or kiss them? What simple and trivial interactions they must seem to them having never been told you were not allowed these moments. Yet, somehow these two former Circle residents had achieved the impossible. It reminded her of the debate over dinner with Elissa and Hawke. It made her wish more and more something could be done so mages and Templars could have a morning like this; to wake in the arms of the man or woman they loved.

"Nor I." She leaned forward placing a lingering chaste kiss on his lips, despite there being nothing modest in her nakedness pressing against him. "You definitely didn't think you'd have fallen for a mage either, right? Especially a crazy fireball thrower such as myself."

He chuckled, "I leave the Order to get away from Templars and mages, and then fall in love with the first mage I find in the woods during my first week of my new position."

"Just remember, later on when I drive you positivity mad, that you could've prevented all this if you would've just killed me then and there." He half frowned and scowled at her. She cupped his face, "You and I both know you're not capable of such a thing, my lion."

"But I was once."

"And now you're not," she shot back without missing a beat, nor losing the cheeriness in her voice. "I won't look back if you don't? I think I'd rather look to our future."

His hands glided up her body to her face, and he pulled it closer to his. She could see it in his eyes that he was chastizing himself for what he once thought of mages and no doubt, he was fretting over all those insecurities. His leonine gaze swept all about as if looking for a reason to doubt the weight of her words but finding no fault in her sincerity. "Our future?" It was a precarious topic between them, but she didn't want to leave without telling him what she had done.

Nodding in his hands, she then grasped them in her own to return them to him. Sliding out of bed, she sauntered over to her desk picking up a letter she recently received. As she returned to him, Evelyn couldn't help but smile at the way he watched her hips sway. Crawling over the satin sheets to sit beside him, her skin was bathed in the bright yellow beams. Though she held the folded parchment out to him, he blindly grabbed for it, too entranced with the woman teasing him with her nakedness. "Before you read this, I want you to know that my original letter and this one was delivered under the highest security our Spymaster can offer."

Cocking an eyebrow up after a deep satisfied breath, he finally tore his eyes from her to read it. Evelyn watched his face with careful precision wanting to catch every shift in his emotions at the letter's content. Starting with the face he always made to focus his eyes on the script like in the War Room, it soon changed to shock, "You told your father we're courting?!" She bit her lip nodding in excitement and nervousness, waiting for him to finish reading the rest of it. After stammering and gaping, he glanced back down quickly skimming the rest, "… And he approves? B-but he doesn't even know me? I-I'm a commoner--"

She placed a finger on his lips leaning toward him, "You are the Commander of the Inquisition and a good man, Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath. Most of all, you love me, and I you. No more needs to be said." Evelyn purposely left out his past affiliations, for he was no longer that man. Nor did she want to say it was also due to her mother's recent involvement with Ryker Aeron's plot. Her father had been vehemently enraged about that and forbade her mother from troubling her any more over suitors for the rest of her days.

"I should have met or written to him first for permission, is-isn't that how it's done? I mean… is it different for nobility or in the Free Marches? Maker's breath, I hardly know the custom in Ferelden! I… I…" At flustering him so, she couldn't help but smile at him. Catching her amused grin, he narrowed his amber eyes at her now displayed a resolve, calming himself down to a rational state. "I should write to him," he stated firmly.

She bit back a smirk, "That's the least you can do as you defile his favorite daughter nightly." Everything had felt so magical the past week, and their voracious appetite for each other was to be expected. At her words, his eyes mirrored a cat's when they'd just caught sight of their prey. With a burst of strength and speed, he tackled her back into the sea of sheets, which only made her squeal and laugh harder. Coming up for air, she jokingly added, "I don't think you should tell him that though."

"Please, I'm not that hopeless - out of my depth, yes, but not hopeless."

She claimed his lips passionately, murmuring against them, "You are mine, and I say you're perfect."

"Yes, my lady," he whispered back. After a minute or two, he pulled back with a saddened face, "I'm going to miss you and our mornings..." He buried his head in the crook of her neck as she hugged tight to him. "… And our nights," he muffled playfully biting at her shoulder. The more time they spent together, the more open Cullen was with her, even more than before their break.

Breathlessly, she sighed, "So am I, but I take comfort in knowing that while we may fight the Elder One now, one day - after I kill the bastard - there will be mornings where we're needed by no one. Having done our duty and served our time, I think it's the least we're owed--" A knock on the door froze the couple, as the Inquisitor called down to Saphira that she was in a meeting and would be down to breakfast soon. Her new maid was getting used to Evelyn's hectic schedule and her new increased need for privacy. She knew Josephine assigned her this one because she didn't take the mage's sass or 'no' even from her for an answer. "However, today is not that day."

To throw everyone off the scent of their nightly trysts, they've been up and about before most in Skyhold wake, making it infinitely easier to sneak about or pretend they had already been up training. It was widely known the two were early risers, so to see them up and about as the sun was just illuminating the mountains' silhouettes was a commonality to life in the Keep. This morning they were up far past sunrise, but since it was so much later than usual, they could pass it off as an early meeting about her trip tomorrow with no one the wiser. Getting themselves dressed, scooping up stacks of reports, and beginning a conversation pertaining to work as they entered the Great Hall, all was business as usual.

Except for the appearance of Leliana right outside the door waiting for them in the Great Hall...

"Erimond has finally given up something useful. Come." The Spymaster turned and they followed her down into the bowels of Skyhold's dungeon. Alone on the steep and narrow stairs, she asked, "Did you have a productive meeting this morning? You'll just have to fill Josie and me in later."

"Once a bard, always a bard, is that it Leliana?" Evelyn could not help but tease her back. Cullen however shot her a glance as if she shouldn't poke the bear.

"Remember, it was you who handed me that letter to your father."

"Silly me, to think you wouldn't read it," Evelyn replied in a droll tone.

"That is the price of my services. Secrets." They remained silent for a few more steps before she continued, "Evie, I think your description of your beau was accurate." Evelyn bit back a laugh at her caution in not mentioning him by name, though said person narrowed his eyes ahead on their guide. "I especially liked--"

"Shh! Really, Sister Nightingale? The Commander is right here. Surely, he does not wish to hear such gossip." Evelyn couldn't see Leliana's face but she knew she was wearing a smug smile from the way she looked back at her around her cowl. Cullen simply let go of an annoyed breath, shaking his head.

By the time they reached the cells and the guards were dismissed to wait outside, Evelyn asked, "Will the Ambassador be joining us?"

"No, she doesn't have the stomach for this." The once-light conversation turned suddenly dark as they approached Erimond's cell. Turning on her toes to address them, the two halted abruptly, "As requested, Inquisitor, the prisoner has not been harmed in a manner where it can be visually seen." The rush of rage she had felt back at Adamant for all the pain and manipulation he conducted to corrupt the mages came back. The sharp spike in her mana was hailed by the mark's green spark and the flash of her orange eyes. "He's been deprived of his magic for two weeks, by using one of our Templars to silence him a few times a day. I've kept with the traditional means of punishment, for his feeble mind and constitution away from the pleasures of Tevinter proved effective enough. I did, however… give him the push he needed to finally break."

Holding open her gloved hand, in her palm rested several Quillback needles. Evelyn knew of their uses in potions, but it was the Nightingale who had mentioned another use of them to her and Ilara one day in the Infirmary. If directly inserted into someone's skin, the traces of venom in the hollow barbs could cause immense pain. The more sensitive the location, such as under fingernails or behind the ear, the more it stings. The Inquisitor and Commander shared a knowing look, now understanding what that push of Leliana's entailed.

With that, she stepped out of their way to approach the cell door. Huddled in the shadow against the wall was the dirtied white coat of Lord Livius Erimond. His black greasy hair fell over his overgrown beard, but his prominent nose still stood out. As she had said, he didn't look harmed but he was certainly feeling the effects of whatever it was she did to him in addition to having his mana drained. His sunken eyes peered up at her with cold hate as he clung to his beliefs that his master was the god Thedas deserved.

"And what is it he gave up?" The Inquisitor crossed her arms looking at the redhead.

"One name. The Vessel, Calpurnia."

Cullen mirrored their intense looks but kept a hand on his sword staring Livius down. "A vessel of what?"

The prisoner choked out a laugh, his voice was hoarse from the evident screaming he had done lately under the careful attention of the Nightingale. "Your pathetic attempts to stop my master will come too late. You are months behind his plans. He will snatch victory from you before you are even aware you have failed." A sharp and sudden spin by Leliana had him cowering more so than Cullen's silent threat. Evelyn wouldn't have even known she turned having been so silent, except for the light brush of the Spymaster's chainmail against her leg.

"We don't know yet, but I already have people working on it. I should have a full profile on her soon, but as it happens, her name had come up in some documents we stole off Venatori messengers out of Val Royeaux. She's been speaking with a merchant by the name of Viscinius, but it's unclear yet as to their arrangement."

"Work out what you can while I'm away and send me a compiled report. In the meantime, Commander, prepare for his immediate execution."

Cullen looked curiously at her, "I thought he was to have a trial?"

"He is, but he's not going to plead for mercy." Evelyn growled over her shoulder to the Vint, "Are you Erimond?"

"Of course not, for the truth--" Leliana made him cower back further into his cell again with a look.

"Save it for the trial, maleificar," the Inquisitor spat. "As I said, ready the block."

"At once," he glowered lowly toward the cell before they all left.

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After a speedy trial and even quicker execution doled out by the Inquisitor herself, the business from Adamant Fortress had been concluded to the relief of her and her advisors. Erimond did not disappoint, first noting that he did not recognize her authority then rambling on like a madman of how he has seen the one true living god. The Tevinter Magister even lectured on the idiocy of the Grey Wardens and their purpose. Denouncing them only helped save a portion of the order’s virtue, but in the coming days, Evelyn would receive a secret letter from Elissa Cousland thanking her and the Ambassador for their help in spreading his hateful speech. Though public opinion of the Wardens was still strained, Livius’ impassioned words stirred people – especially Fereldens – into a fierce defense of the Griffin-riding heroes. As the trial ended, having worked the crowd up into an uproar against him, they were all but begging the Inquisitor to put an end to the heretic. With one swift and graceful arch, Evelyn severed the mage’s head from his body with her signature spirit blade.

Despite her dealing out righteous justice, the looming dread that coincided with packing and preparing for the next day's journey grew stronger as the day wore on. With everyone having a week of rest, she had requested Bull, Varric, and Blackwall accompany her to the Emerald Graves to help clean up the forest of remaining Freemen of the Dales. Sera was off on a Red Jenny mission of her own, Vivienne was assisting Josephine with visiting dignitaries, Dorian researching the Corypheus’ Tevinter family lineage, and Cole was being Cole. Ilara had her hands full with the wounded from Adamant still and Henley and the Ostwick Templars were all back on their regular duty around Skyhold. All day she was approached to sign or approve things before she left to rendezvous with Cassandra, Owayne, Sorin, and Solas, whom she had hoped wouldn't need her assistance. However, the discovery of a Red Lyrium smuggling operation complicated matters.

Evelyn had been summoned by the Commander to meet with him at her earliest convenience, but it wasn't until just before the dinner bell rang that she finally made her way to his office. Having not been able to venture outside for hours for fresh air she paused taking in the sight of the sunset. The horizon looked like a painting, and ironically, there was someone on the far ramparts capturing the sight onto canvas. It seemed with each passing month, more and more people were making a pilgrimage to Skyhold for one reason or another. She didn't mind it so much, for these were strange times they were living in and every visitor leaving with a good impression only helped the Inquisition's reputation.

Stolen story; please report.

With the days getting shorter as winter was upon them, everyone in Skyhold was sporting extra layers. The Ambassador had a fine cloak made for her of red velveteen with golden embellishments that clasped at the neck and trailed down around her ankles. The council all had matching ones made for them as well, yet she only ever saw Josephine wearing it. After the difficult time the Commander gave her about dress uniforms, Evelyn was unsurprised to see his hung in his office as if a new wall decoration. Leliana wore hers a few times, but her desire to always be incognito outweighed the enjoyment of being fashionable. That left the Inquisitor, who despite seeing the cloak as a bit too flashy, wore it for the sanity of the Ambassador.

Arriving at Cullen's door and ushering in her burnt orange dress and Inquisitorial cloak, she quietly stood off to the side as he finished speaking with two of his Lieutenants about tomorrow's training. Having prepared the soldiers to combat possessed mages, he was now having them instruct against Templars. Running down a list of exercises he had jotted down, Evelyn could tell there was a sadness hidden behind his authoritative voice. This was not going to be easy for him…

"Dismissed," watching them leave, she approached his desk slowly unclasping her cloak, "Inquisitor, I've been waiting for you." His playful tone made her smile instantly.

Holding his gaze, she brushed her fingertips across the edge of his desk as she walked, until she stood as close as she could to him. She tilted her head looking up at him, "And now I'm here." Closing her eyes expecting him to meet her lips, instead, she was gently pecked by a piece of paper. Opening them suddenly, she daintily took the report, bringing it down, and leveled at him a pointed look. "I'm starting to get jealous of your mistress named work."

"You won't say that after you read it." Cullen went back to sorting his reports as she read. For the first few lines, she read it without a reaction until…

"Andraste's holy arse! Sampson may be in the Emerald Graves?!" The Commander stopped his organizing to nod firmly at the news. Evelyn's mind spun as she carded a hand through her hair, making the loose knot it was pinned up in droop. She didn't care though, Sampson was close by and there was the potential of a confrontation with him in the Graves. "Cullen, this means…"

"I know," his voice was grave now, "every day that we allow him to live, the more he recruits the Templars that have fallen through the cracks of the true Order and Inquisition. This could be our chance to end it, provided that he is there. We have yet to confirm it, but Cassandra has uncovered the route in which he imports the red poison."

"Even if he isn't, to stop his supply line would cause major complications to his operation." A cold shiver tingled down her spine, "Maker, could you imagine Red Templars having lyrium withdraw?" She undid her hair completely now to stroke it still stunned.

Cullen froze as a look of horror gripped him like she had never seen before. He could hardly speak, "They would tear themselves apart, and I mean physically claw and... Andraste preserve me, who knows what else!"

Evelyn's brow creased, "Cullen, they aren't your responsibility. They made their choice or fate decided for them. I feel the same about the displaced mages, but we are doing all we can for both sides of the rebellion. Do we even know if they retain any humanity? They follow orders well enough, but those we know are given through the lyrium somehow."

"It's uncertain, but what if…" he frowned wiping a hand down his face as if thinking better of it. Shaking his head, his voice was low, "No, they are abominations. You took it and almost lost yourself to it, and you're a mage. Knowing what I know about what lyrium did to me, there is no chance any of their former selves still exist." A stab of cold fear paralyzed her thinking about how Ryker planned to give it to Cullen. As horrid images of what could've been invaded her thoughts, she began to crinkle the parchment in her hands. The slow crunch and her faraway stare drew his attention, "Evelyn?" His hands now grasped for hers, "You're trembling."

With a sharp inhale, she shook herself but her mind was still hijacking her conscious stream of thought, "Ryker… he was going to…"

"Ryker? What are you talking about?"

"He was going to feed you red lyrium, and I couldn't let him because you'd lose your soul to it! I… I was going to…" Her eyes went wide realizing her private thoughts were spilling from her lips. A hand clasped over them, now lucid and aware, but it was too late.

The Commander's eyes narrowed, "What were you going to do?" Anger was already clouding his face, but her wide-eyed look made him think better of it. They had promised each other to talk through the Ryker incident slowly. Despite burying the hatchet back at Adamant, there were questions Cullen had, and in an effort not to overwhelm him with the gruesome truth, she vowed to divulge bits and pieces as they became relevant. Apparently, her subconscious mind thought now was a good time. "Evelyn, what did you do?"

Shutting her eyes tightly for a moment, she pressed a palm to her forehead as if in pain, but the only discomfort came from the memory of that night. He guided her to sit in his chair as he leaned up against the desk beside her. She didn't want to be doing this right before she left, but it seems she had no choice now. "That night when we kissed in the stairwell and I was throwing glasses," she sighed with resignation, "I had gone to Ryker to… give myself to him so he wouldn't feed you red lyrium. It was an ultimatum he gave me after I disobeyed him." Evelyn winced for whatever reaction was bubbling away under his unreadable façade. He adjusted himself on the desk, crossing his arms but didn't look at her "As it happened, I found him instead with Eira and we fought." Her fist clenched tight at the memory of cracking the Templar's nose off the wall. Chancing a sheepish look up at him through her long locks, he was boring another arrow silt into the wall beside the existing one. Cullen's jaw flexed, indicating he was angry, but he was keeping it in check as he processed the revelation.

When his head snapped to her suddenly, her eyes left him for her feet. In the bit she glimpsed of him, he looked livid. "You… you were going to…" He seethed, but it was a low growl rather than yelling. "Evelyn!" He commanded her to look at him, and when she finally did, it wasn't anger she saw but crippling heartache. They held each other in their gaze for a few moments, neither of them taking a breath. Tears wet her eyes, but she attempted to banish them, standing by her decision at that time.

Had things been different, if Eira hadn't been there… she finished her thought aloud, "I would've done anything to save you, and Ryker knew it." His eyes trailed away from hers getting further and further away into the recesses of his mind. When the silence became too much for her, she pleaded in a horse whisper, "Cullen, please say something." He just shook his head at her. She nodded in understanding, knowing the disgust he felt toward the whole affair for she shared it. Rising after he still couldn't bring himself to say anything, she thought it best if she'd just leave and walked around the opposite side of the desk away from him.

"Wait!" A sudden burst of movement from her stopped her dead in the center of his office. With almost crushing force, he embraced her, whispering into her hair, "I find myself speechless at the fact that you'd do something so horrid, just to save me from that poison."

"I love you. Of course, I would," she mumbled back into the fur on his coat. Her arms circled him and she gripped him hard. "I've taken it. I know what it does, and it would've taken you from me forever. I would suffer Ryker and worse to keep you from it, for without you I'd lose the other half of my soul."

"My Eve," he released her pushing her back so he could gaze slightly down at her, "know that I would go to the Void and back to keep you safe. I'm sorry for having ever doubted your affection. I'll never question it again, my love."

"I know, but at that time you had every right to. What matters is that we're here now. Together." Unable to keep themselves from each other, their lips crashed into a deep impassioned kiss. Serving to banish the demons of her mind, she surrendered to the moment, thankful that she could speak with him about what had happened unlike a few months ago. Nuzzling each other, she murmured, "Well, now that we've covered the spectrum of human emotions in a short time, may we adjourn for dinner?"

"I was going to--"

"It's my last night here," she whined.

His smirk returned, "So, that means you have to traumatize me one last time with your eating habits?"

She scoffed, "They're serving several tarts and a lovely vegetable casserole. I'm not sure how I could possibly ruin it for you." Placing her cloak back on around her shoulders with his chivalrous assistance, they began their slow walk to the Great Hall.

"I could think of several ways, especially when crusts are involved." He rolled his eyes, and she waited with some astonishment to hear why, "The cooks have been using that coffin Herrit made them look like Skyhold, and I swear on Andraste's holy pyre, if I have to watch you attempt to cut into that bloody crust, only to watch our fortress crumble into hundreds of pieces I'm going to start having nightmares! Or starve, because everything oozed out before it can get to a plate."

Pushing into the rotunda, she was thankful Solas was in the Emerald Graves, for her descent into boisterous laughter would've been met with his stern shushing. Evelyn could hardly stand, bracing up against the wall, "Dorian always said you were too sassy for your own good, and I do believe he's right!" When she was finished after some time, the two entered the hall and joined the others dining at the Inquisitor's table. Chief among them were her companions to the Emerald Graves who wanted one last decent meal before having to survive on preserved foods and stew.

"Well, well, Curly and Blaze finally show up. Say, why is your face all red?" Varric eyed her with a cheeky smile."The Commander made a rather humorous joke that I'm still recovering from." Evelyn grabbed her glass of wine and quickly took a few large gulps.

"And what was this witty quip of his?"

"It was about my eating habits," at that, everyone groaned and chuckled. "Seriously?" She grumbled eyeing all of them pointedly, "Fuck you. I could say something disturbing about all of you as well." As the food arrived, so did the infamous crust in the shape of Skyhold. Wearing a conspiratorial look, she stared at him, waiting until the servants handed her the cutlery, "I think we should let the Commander make the first assault on our beloved home tonight." She held out the utensils to him, blinking with a deadpan smile. "Go on. Let us see your martial precision in breaking the walls as you had at Adamant."

Taking the large knife and spoon from her with a scowl, he set his jaw, thinking for a moment before touching the metal weaponry to the crust. A side glance at her showed that she was intently waiting, and all the others had gone silent observing this challenge. Applying pressure, Cullen cracked the hard pastry shell, but the walls held. Evelyn's eyebrows shot up to her forehead in disbelief and there were some 'ahs' from the audience. He smiled smugly at her, but his victory was short-lived as he went to cut further down, causing the keep to crumble.

"Commander, I do believe it is oozing," she tutted at him. With a defeated sigh, the two looked at each other amusingly, "It's harder than it looks, isn't it?"

"I'd like another try with it, Inquisitor. If you'd allow it? I will not be bested in battle by some… pastry."

"Whoa, bold words, Curly! Go easy on our poor dinner, I'd still like to eat it despite how you just destroyed it."

"I can hear our cook crying from here." There were snickers and laughs, "But I accept your desire to try again. When we return from the Emerald Graves, I shall request a special dinner and you can try your hand at it one more time."

"Varric mumbled through his teeth over to Bull and Blackwall, "I feel a wager coming on…"

"My coin is on the Commander," without much prodding, the Warden passed a few coppers across the table to the dwarf slyly as if it were a Carta lyrium deal.

"Sorry, Cullen but I'm with the pastry." Bull slapped his massive hand down revealing a nice pile of silver. "After seeing how many times the Inquisitor has tried and failed, the odds are against you."

"I'm with Tiny," Varric added some more coins while Cullen glowered at him. "What? I call it how I see it, Curly, and you are a hammer to which everything you look at is a nail. And while that has its uses, in this case," he frowned and looked at their dinner now plopping off the plate, "it doesn't."

"And what say you, Inquisitor?" Blackwall inquired and just like that all attention was on her.

She looked at Cullen then to the crust that once looked like Skyhold, "You know, normally I would've been behind you in this endeavor," she paused looking up to him with a haughty expression, "but, since you sassed me about my terrible cutting, my coin will forever be with the crumbly crust." Bull and Varric let out a cheer as the other two men shook their heads. Sitting back smugly, she tossed a few gold coins at their bookie, who diligently made notes on the bets. Nodding curtly at her, he scooped up the spilled innards of the casserole and plunked them in the center of her dish. "Hey!" Cullen tried to hide his smirk but was doing a horrible job as he served the others. When his back was to her, she swapped her plate with his. He only noticed when he piled a second helping onto his dish.

"This is becoming sickly adorable, I might just lose my appetite," Varric commented.

Ignoring the resident author, Evelyn looked at Cullen with indignant impatience, "I'd like you to try that again, but this time, do please place it to the side, Commander." She loved watching his ire flush his cheeks, and right before he spoke, he clamped his jaw shut and did as she bid. His gaze was intense, so much so that she almost instinctively snapped up a barrier. "Thank you," she said condescendingly. Cullen didn't say anything, but when a servant came by to fill their glasses, he whispered and passed something to the man. Continuing with their meal, the food became a bit too dry for her liking and she asked about for the gravy, but no one could find it on the table. Flagging one of the servers, she inquired about their gravy bowl.

"Apologies, Inquisitor, but the Commander said you wanted it cleared from the table." The man stood between the two of them who were now having a private staring contest. Cullen continued to eat, gazing over at her unamused and unafraid by her glowering. "S-should I return it, Your Worship?"

"No." Evelyn tilted her head slightly, "No, thank you. The Commander was only doing as I asked." The fact was Cullen, knew exactly what he was doing. It was a sound strategy to hit her where it would annoy her most after she stole his plate. The servant bowed and rushed back towards the kitchen at such a pace that Evelyn's foot tapped in irritated synchronization with his quick footfalls. "Well, played Commander." Their captive audience wore shit-eating grins, chuckling to themselves.

"I have some gravy on mine, would you like to switch plates again?" Studying his for a moment, it looked much more appetizing than her own, but she stubbornly declined. Pouting the rest of the meal, she finished it in complete defiance of Cullen's expectations that she could not eat a meal without drowning it in sauce. Placing her silverware and napkin on the table she stood and bid everyone a good evening, except the Commander who received a pointed look. The former Templar looked somewhat perplexed at her leaving, but as she reached the door, she glanced back mischievously. The faint echo of Bull's voice followed her, and she laughed knowing that whenever Bull began a sentence with, 'Let me give you some advice,' it was the type to make Cullen blush like a Chantry Sister.

Later that evening after a bath, Evelyn sat beside the fire reading a book, ignoring the work she had yet to finish. Having thought about it, she was resigned to packing it to take with her while on the road when she didn't have anything better to do. For once, she was being selfish and reading a classic adventure tale she found in the library. The frigid nights were setting in and the one major flaw of her opulent quarters was the draft from the windows and doors to the balconies. Her soft white wool nightgown fell off her shoulders hugging her for a sultrier and cozier look. The mage's two-toned hair had dried with its natural waves intact at the ends and she pushed it to one side in an attempt to control it. Few candles were lit about the room making the central seating area in front of the fire all the more welcoming with its warmth. Saphira had brought her a dessert tray after her bath made up of sweets and spiced hot cider. The spicy scents of the cloves and cinnamon sticks drifted about the room mingling perfectly with the glazed rolls and piece of pumpkin pie.

Despite the decadent desserts calling to her, she waited for her guest to sneak his way up to her quarters before digging in. When he finally arrived, she snapped her book shut and shielded the food with her arms, "Before you take another step," he froze with wide eyes meeting her lethal glare, "promise me you'll not ruin this dessert for me."

With a chuckle, Cullen held his hand up as if taking an oath, "I promise." Walking over to her, he gave her a sweet kiss and the two sat on the loveseat to partake and spend a slow lazy evening together before she left. "I'm going to miss you. I know it's only been a week of this, but I'm not sure what I'll do without you now."

"Well, some work I hope," she winked at him with a bright smile, before biting the sweet roll with a satisfied hum. "I share the sentiment, but we both know duty comes first." She looked at him sharing a knowing look with a deep understanding of what that meant. "Any news from home?" She asked wanting to change the subject.

"Yes, actually," an eyebrow arched up at her as he finished a sip of cider. "It seems Richard now has a horse, and a Ranger at that." Evelyn stilled looking guiltily over at him.

"Branson said it was all right and as it happened, my father had a foal born late this season."

"You wrote to Bran?"

She nodded grabbing a fork for the pie, "He loved Nelson so much how could I not!" After another respite to partake in dessert, she continued eyeing him hesitantly, "I also sent gifts to Rosemary and Arthur, since it'd be unfair not to." Cullen gaped at her slightly, "Oh, it was nothing! I sent along a paint set and some toy soldiers for them, that's it!"

He huffed, blowing off the surface of his mug of cider, "You're not making being an uncle easy, Trevelyan. How am I supposed to top that?"

"Well…"

"What?"

"I told them that the gifts were from both of us as early Satinalia gifts. It only took this long to send because my father was waiting for the foal to be weaned from his mother. Mia held the gifts until the Ranger arrived so they all received something together. Your status as the best uncle has been preserved." He sat there quietly drinking staring at the fire with an unreadable expression. "Are you cross with me? It had slipped my mind with trying to pack and all."

Placing his mug down, he wiped a hand down his face but it revealed a smile, "No, I'm not. It's just… an odd sensation sending my nieces and nephew holiday gifts. It's something normal people do, you know when the world isn't going to the Void."

Evelyn couldn't help but laugh in agreement, "I only get to send things to Hector's two boys since I'm not really on speaking terms with my eldest sister. But those boys have everything they could possibly want thanks to their doting grandparents, so I usually end up sending them something I collect in my travels. It was nice buying something for your family that would be appreciated. Not that my nephews wouldn't, it's…"

"I understand," he held her hand, "thank you. At least now I can write back as if it was planned all along." They chuckled together, and she fell back onto him. His arm circled her and rubbed up and down the soft arm of her nightgown.

"It's our little secret." Tucking herself into him more, she lost herself in thought as his deep relaxing breaths rocked her gently. There were a lot of things she wanted to say like 'as the future Mrs. Rutherford, of course she took care of it,' but decided against it. Was it too soon to say something like that? She had just told her father officially about them, and she still sensed a hidden tension in him about it. Perhaps, for now, she'd let it lie until he made the next advance, like in their chess games. Of all the things she didn't want to do, among them was fluster him about getting too ahead of themselves. There were still many uncertainties and variables before they'd attain the future they sought - chief among them being Corypheus.

After both falling into silence, enjoying the sounds of the night and the other's breathing, he whispered in her ear, "May I take you to bed, my lady?" In the past few minutes, he was becoming increasingly restless, the kind when something was on his mind.

Gazing up into his rare amber eyes with a smile, she replied, "I thought you'd never ask." Reconciling her thoughts, she realized it was for the best to live in the present, for tomorrow was not guaranteed. With a show of strength, Cullen lifted her in his arms as she held fast, walking her slowly to the bed. Planting kisses up his neck to his ear, she hummed taking in the scent of oakmoss and elderflower on him. Dropping her on the blankets, she laughed and rolled on her side watching him intently as he took his boots and shirt off. Biting her lip, a slender finger trailed up from the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up around the curve of her hip to display the single limb of hers that wasn't scarred. The molten hunger in his look viewing her as she reached back loosening the ties on the back of her dress told her what had been nagging his mind.

Pointing her foot out towards him, Cullen pulled his way up her toned leg over to the side of the bed, but quickly swung her around so both legs dangled off the side. Pushing the rest of her gown up over her hips and sliding off her smalls, Evelyn pushed up to her elbows tilting her head to the side with a sultry smile.

Kneeling before her his rough hand grazed down her thighs and grasped her behind the knees. "Are you alright with this?" His fingers teased about causing her breath to hitch and waves of heat to roll through her. Feeling his stubble scrape her inner thighs, followed by his tickling warm breath was causing her to throb.

"Yes," she whispered, "please." Though he looked endearingly unsure, probably due to inexperience, he dove into her without abandon.

Cullen made love like he fought, with painstaking and methodical concentration. The focus in his eyes was always unnerving, making her feel both vulnerable and safe at once; she was both prey and precious to him depending on their chosen dynamic. Evelyn knew when they made love she was the one singular thing on his mind, making her affection swell to overwhelming heights within her chest. It was more than blinding lust, it was soul-searing ardor that burned hotter than even her own primal mana. It was in the throes of such passion that she felt bold enough to say the things she had held back earlier; how she wanted all of Skyhold to hear her screams of ecstasy when they were together; how she wished he'd desperately ask for her hand in marriage; how she wanted to beg him to fill her womb with his child. Then the anchor's emerald lightning flashes about in the subdued candlelight as a stark reminder of the pain such hasty declarations could bring. Still, they linger on the tip of her tongue as they imbue her cries.

The sight of him between her legs and then the feel of his tongue on her had her seeing stars instantly. "Maker, Cullen!" Evelyn couldn't help but cry out as she fell back reaching the precipice quickly. She wanted to run her hand through his hair, but if it was his first time she didn't want to fluster him, even though he had the precision of one with practiced experience. The concupiscence sensations were too much, and she moaned longingly as she lived through a longtime fantasy. One last hard flick and suck had her bucking and screaming his praises into the blankets.

When she came to from nearly blacking out with pleasure, she sat up, grabbing his arms aggressively to pull him up with her. Throwing off her nightgown before deftly undressing the rest of him, they knelt before each other bare. Warmed from the heat of his attentiveness, her hand grasped and fondled him, though he needed no preparation. Instead, Evelyn pulled him in, sucking on his bottom lip that retained a hint of her sweet and tangy essence on them. His hand found her ass and made her fall against him. The two ravaged each other, though it was measured trying to commit the feel of their lover to memory.

Pushing him down and climbing over him, she couldn't help but comment, "Whatever woman you learned that from, I'm extremely jealous of her."

A small satisfied smile tweaked at his scared lip, "Well, it was The Iron Bull actually…"

She narrowed her eyes at him confused before realizing, "Is that what he told you to do as I left dinner? I would've liked to be a fly on the wall for that conversation."

He turned a shade of scarlet, "Yes, it was all rather mortifying, and yet prurient, that I found myself curious. Your reaction made it all worthwhile. Maker breath, the sounds you made, Eve." He pushed his hips up into her and they became one once more before they would be parted for some time by duty.

"And I'll gladly make them again," Leaning over him, she began repaying the favor late into the night as the moons reached their apex.