7 for the prompts :)
7.“Is that blood?” “No?” “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”
Ooooops this was from like a week ago but I didn’t get to it until now. Sorry! I suck. Here’s some more Ioren x Cullen slice of life stuff.
The flames of the candles lending light to Cullen’s reading flickered as the unseen door into the room swung open, the off-set of air rushing in to stoke the flames. He looked up as he heard it shut once more, and watched as the Inquisitor herself made her way up the stairs. Each light, jovial step was marked with another of her many layers of jackets, scarves, and gloves (much more than he would have personally deemed necessary, but he was used to cold winters, unlike his beloved) being removed to be later tossed on the couch. As she reached the last step, she looked over and saw him at her desk, a wide, goofy grin spreading across her face.
“Cullen! To what do I owe such a lovely surprise?” she asked, making her way over to the desk and leaning forward against it.
He tsk’d at her, closing his book. “You did ask me to move my things here – two months ago, I might add.” This was far from the first night he’d spent here since.
“Oh! Right. I did, didn’t I?” she teased. “One of my better decisions, I’ll admit. You make a wonderful addition to any abode. You’re much nicer to look at than the awful rug Josie put in here.” Reaching for one of the hands he’d been resting against the desk, she took it in her own hands, cold in spite of the two layers of gloves she had been wearing.
“Oh? Is that why you keep me around?”
“There are some other reasons. Would you like a reminder?” Her voice dipped down into tantalizing registers, and when she’d finished her purring, she grazed her lower lip with her teeth.
“How could I say ‘no’ to that?” he replied with a low chuckle, covering their joined hands with another one of his and eyeing her mouth with interest. When his gaze drifted back up towards her eyes, they followed along the lines of her vallaslin and up to— “Wait, is that blood?” There was a small, dark smear of liquid above her eyebrow.
“Uhhhhh… no?” she replied, almost hopefully.
“Ioren, my dear, that isn’t a question that you answer with another question.”
She sighed, pulling back from his hands and making her way over to the water basin on her dresser. “Sorry, I thought I’d gotten it all.”
“I—what—how did you even manage get blood on your face?”
“It’s a long story,” she said with a shrug, using a wet cloth to clean the remaining traces of blood from her face. “I won’t bore you with the details.”
A grunt of disapproval escaped his throat. “I am the Commander of the Inquisition’s armies and in charge of the defense of Skyhold. If there’s been any sort of altercation within the walls, I should be—”
“Cullen,” she interrupted, and turned to him with a look of Creators please make him stop. “It was nothing to get so worked up about! Just a, uh… incident. I handled it. I’m very capable of handling things, you know. In fact, I would say it’s one of my main job descriptors. ‘Inquisitor: Herald of Andraste, Slayer of Dragons, Handler of Things.’”
Cullen glowered at her for an agonizing moment before saying, “Did Sera try to teach you how to shoot a bow again?”
With a defeated sigh, Ioren replied, “Sera tried to teach me how to shoot a bow again.”