The Lover’s Alcove

KaitlynTrevelyan x Cullen Rutherford fluff (1114 words). 

“When you said that you’d wanted to try something Orlesian, I’d hoped you’d meant a new set of pastries.”

Kaitlyn smiled through the butterflies in her stomach. She’d never seen Cullen wear such ominous scowl before; his glare at the red silk draped around the center of Val Royeaux would’ve lit it on fire had he been a mage.

“That’s just an enormous waste of cloth.”

“Do you say that every time you come here?”

“Not every time,” he mumbled, cheeks gaining a pink hue. Cullen turned back to the group of soldiers who had traveled with them. His voice grew louder as he addressed them, “You all have your assignments. I expect everyone to be finished with this glorified grocery run in the allotted time.” He paused, glancing to Kaitlyn, before he added, “Though I might turn a blind eye to a few hours of leisure if some of those chocolates we saw earlier made it onto my desk.”

Laughter rippled through the firm stances of the men and women, their cracked and worn lips pulling up with their smiles.

“Dismissed.”

She waited for the soldiers to clear before strolling to Cullen’s side—or trying to stroll, at any rate. Her knees were beginning to shake. “Determined to get your pastries after all, Commander?”

“I will admit,” he whispered, leaning in and letting his fingers brush along the back of her hand, “there are a few things that the Orlesians aren’t completely terrible at.”

“Such scandal!” Kaitlyn gasped in mock horror. “They won’t let you back into Ferelden after that.”

“Then I’ll beg you to keep it a secret.”

She smiled when his fingers twined with her own; a rare show of affection for such a public setting. Her heart pounded in her chest when he stared at her. “I, um…” Heat flared in her cheeks when he squeezed her fingers. “What I wanted to show you was, uh…” His tongue ran along his bottom lip and she found her thoughts scattering. She wanted him to kiss her again and again and then again like he had that first time on the battlements. The softness of his lips. The languid rub of his tongue. His sighs when she—

“Kaitlyn?”

“Yes?!” She blinked then turned away, sure her cheeks were red. She pressed her free hand to her stomach, wondering if it would be coming up her throat or if her knees would buckle or if something equally embarrassing would happen before she reached the stairs. “U-up on the next floor, in that little garden area. That’s where it is.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m just a little warm is all,” she tried to laugh it off but the sound strangled itself somewhere along the way. “Must be the heat. I’m so used to Skyhold.”

“Of course,” Cullen said. His face remained set but the wrinkles around his eyes betrayed his smirk. Her lie would’ve gone over better if she hadn’t just returned from the desert.

“Yes, well.” Kaitlyn kept a tight hold of his hand as she marched through the market with him in tow.

What if it was too much? Too fast? She’d never really done anything like this before. Glancing back to him, she bit her lip. The Circle hadn’t allowed many opportunities of romance; what if she was going about this all wrong? What if the gesture seemed childish or naïve?

Oh, Maker. What if she scared him away?

“Are you sure you’re all right?” The question was gentle, his voice a balm against her fears. “You don’t appear well.”

Kaitlyn squeezed his fingers, grateful he hadn’t worn gloves. She loved the feel of his hands: rough with callouses, leathery from constant use, lined with fine scars. She’d never seen hands like his before, not even among other Templars.

“I promise I’m all right.” She tugged him into the shaded alcove, heart hammering harder than a blacksmith flattening out a blade. “I just wanted to show you this.” She stopped beside one of the golden plaques strewn all over the city. Her face burned and she lowered her head and watched him through her lashes.

“I don’t understand.”

“Read it.”  

The Lover’s Alcove
When manners and station will not allow impassioned words, such corners are places to be seen not being seen. Entering with a paramour is as much a declaration as dinging out in joy, which one of good standing must never do. The alcove is this a dignified means of announcing romantic affiliation, either for genuine partnership, or to appear as such in order to spare a suitor a refusal. Dignity of course requiring that one does not also make use of the darkness for actual physical gratification.

Kaitlyn remembered when she’d first found the plaque months ago. She’d laughed at the idea at first, but now she watched Cullen’s eyes move down the engraving and prayed instead. Prayed that he would accept the gesture or, at least, that his rejection might be gentle.

“Is this—?” He cleared his throat and the earlier pink began spreading to the tips of his ears. “I mean, we’ve entered like it says, and we entered together like it says, and I’m fairly certain you’re not using me to refuse another suitor.”

She screamed inwardly at his response. Was joking good or bad?

“No, I’m not. U-using you, I mean.”

Andraste preserve me. This had been a bad idea. This whole thing had been such a bad idea. “It’s silly, I know. Let’s just forget it, shall we?” Kaitlyn forced a smile, heart aching as she started to pull away.

“It’s not silly.” Cullen followed her, sweeping in until she was pressed against the wall. Placing his other hand against the brick behind her, his body all but blocked her from view of any curious onlookers. His gaze dropped to her lips before returning to her eyes. “That plaque also mentioned not using this place for ‘physical gratification.’”

She swallowed hard, growing breathless under his intense stare. “I remember.”

“That’s the Orlesian way, at any rate.” His head dipped down; his breath ghosted across her lips.

Kaitlyn smiled. “Thank the Maker that neither of us are Orlesian.”

Cullen chuckled even as he kissed her, his lips warm and eager. He released her hand only to cup her cheek. Tilting his head to allow for a deeper kiss, his tongue sent shivers down her spine with its thorough and unhurried search. He grinned when she sighed his name, slowly pulling apart to rest his forehead to hers. His thumb ran along her chin, his smile broadening enough that dimples appeared in the sides of his blushing cheeks.

“Thank the Maker, indeed.”

Find the Grey Warden - Ch 2

Find the Grey Warden (10499 words) by eternalshiva

Chapter 1 - Warden in a Cave
Summary: The Grey Wardens were a mysterious lot, Octavia thought, and this one hiding in a cave was no exception.

Chapter 2: Warden in a Fortress
Summary: A half naked Warden, a plot to kill a dragon and some drinks - nothing can go wrong, right?

Rating: Mature
Relationships: Alistair/Female Inquisitor Octavia Trevelyan

Characters: Warden Alistair (Dragon Age), Rogue Trevelyan, Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon Age)

Additional Tags: I will update the tags as the fic goes on, Angst, Sexual Tension

* * * 

“This is Caer Bronach Fortress,” Octavia planted her feet on the road, arms open wide to show off her first take over. She was grinning so wide, Alistair was sure he could see the back of her teeth. He looked away from her and focused on the fortress, a bit mystified. The rest of the group, including Hawke, moved on ahead and entered the keep, dispersing.

“It looks… like it has had better days,” he quipped, adjusting his pack on his shoulder. He could feel the sweat tricking down the center of his back and soaking through his tunic. The leather and metal armour were not helping his case as he wiped at a bead of sweat on his temple. Even the mabari looked uncomfortable as it panted heavily, whining.

Maker it was hot.

Keep reading

themightyzan asked:

Nevena/Cullen #30 ^.^

"It’s not what it looks like!"

Cullen x Nevena Trevelyan

He had been so focused on fixing his hair that he had not heard her enter or even heard her as she had climbed the ladder up to his sleeping quarters.

Some mornings, his curls were manageable and it took him no time at all to tidy them and get them looking smart and professional. Other mornings, like this morning, they were unruly and did not want to co-operate or be styled.

Cullen squinted at his reflection, trying to smooth one particular tuft into place.

He realized he was no alone when he noticed Nevena’s image in the looking glass. Her eyes on his hair and a beaming, gleeful smile on her face.

Cullen felt his body turn cold as he spun on his heel to look at her. “This—” he quickly ruffled his hands through his hair. “It is not what it looks like!” He insisted.

No one knew the lengths to which he went to keep his hair neat. Not even his other advisers. He was so particular about it, that no one else should see it in its natural state, that when they had shared a room in Haven, he had risen before them on purpose so they never saw it.

"Oh, this is exactly what it looks like." The Inquisitor crowed. "I knew it!"

"Inquisitor-!"

"No one’s hair can be that perfect!"

"Inquistor."

"Varric is going to die when he hears about—"

"Please, don’t!" Something in Cullen’s voice, perhaps the plea of desperation to his tone, caught Nevena and stopped her teasing. Her smile faltered a little. Cullen’s shoulders dropped. "I… would prefer people not to know how much effort I put into my appearance."

"Why?" She crossed her arms lose over her chest, all lilt of joking gone from her words.

Cullen rose his eyes, looking out of his broken roof. “I try to present myself as professional and confident. My natural hair does not… exactly command respect.”

Nevena cocked her head to one side. “Because it’s curly?”

"Because it’s curly." Agreed Cullen. "In Kirkwall, my hair became something of a running joke among my peers and comrades."

Her expression softened. “Ah.” Nevena nodded. “And you would prefer that not to happen here. I understand Commander. No one will hear anything from me.”

Relaxing, Cullen managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Inquisitor. I… appreciate your discretion.” After a moment, it dawned on him that the Inquisitor was in his quarters and had not given him a reason as to why she was there so early. “Did you need me for something?”

Nevena paused as she was already beginning to climb down the ladder. “Oh, yes.” Her head reappeared over the hatch in the floor. “Thank you for reminding me. Leliana received some news today, war room when you’re decent.”

Giving his confirmation that he would be there soon, Cullen returned to his mirror and the work on his hair. He realized then, and only then, that he had been in a state of undress all the while he and Nevena had spoken. His breeches unlaced and his top naked.

He flushed, burning in his cheeks and around the ears, and lay his temple against the cool glass of his mirror. “Maker’s breath.” He grumbled, “a picture of professionalism.”

klc-journei asked:

Where does Haylan spend the majority of her time at Skyhold? Is there a companion she's the closest to? Which one?

Haylan as Inquisitor

I assume being Inquisitor doesn’t afford a lot of time for leisure, but when she does have the time she spends it lazing in bed with the windows wide open to let the mountain air and sunlight it. Occasionally she spends it in a chair in Cullen’s office (which he had brought in), but she’s not fond of closed spaces where she can’t see sunlight, so she’s really only there if Cullen is or she’s waiting on him.

She’s fond of Cole, but in a nurturing sense more than a companionable sense, since she feels the need to ‘take care’ of him (so more child than friend). If i had to say, she’s closest with Dorian BUT spends more time around Varric  since he’s usually just writing or puttering about.

Haylan as Companion

True to her name and training, Haylan stays near the medical tents where she can be on hand to treat incoming wounded. She can also occasionally be found in the upper courtyard (if a training ring is made) near where the sparring ring is. She and the surgeon get along, if only professionally (”Please stop offering to bleed the Inquisitor.”).

Again, Haylan is closest to Varric and Dorian, mostly by virtue of the former being incredibly friendly and the latter for teasing her mercilessly about her infatuation with the Commander. 

Dorian: Haylan, I heard the most interesting thing the other day.
Haylan: (with obvious hesitance) …what?
Dorian: Did you, in fact, used to stand guard outside our Commander’s offices before he—
Haylan: Oh look! I think that’s elfroot, just let me go far away over there to get it!
Dorian: I heard he had to tell you to stop. Was it awkward? Please tell me it was.
Haylan: Alright, I don’t know how it works in Tevinter, but I was trained to stand watch over the highest ranking Templar in my vicinity.
Dorian: There’s nothing wrong with it! I would stand watch over the Commander’s ars—
Haylan: Look! More elfroot!!

When she is healing, Cole tends to wander near her, in case she needs help understanding what’s wrong or a dagger.

3

I write about them often enough. So here they are: my Inquisitors with semi-decent screenshots since I’m terrible at that kind of thing

4

Favorite Inquisitors - 1

I’m gonna draw (try at least) my favorite artists’ OCs because they are awesome and because I love them. 

In order

Hanan Lavellan : airagitt

Liam Trevelyan : lilithblack-aka-miu

Cecilia Adaar : iwarinjones

Lathis Lavellan : angels-and-scarves


Coming : Revas Lavellan ( drathe), Seth Lavellan ( sing-sei), IssI Lavellan ( thefereldenheroisanelf), Lyaleth Lavellan ( yukisamui)

klc-journei asked:

Maeve conscripted the Mages. While she was lenient to cut their freedom (something she understands and sympathizes with) she did so when they invited Tevinters without thought to the common people. If Maeve had brought Haylan with her (had taken Solas and Cassandra) how do you think she would have reacted to discovering that Maeve and Dorian were alive when she saw her 'die'?

HmmmmMMM

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

To the most illustrious Inquisitor Trevelyan, allow me to introduce myself: High Priest of the Grand Necropolis of Nevarra. I was made aware that no arrangements have been made for the event of your grand passing. Allow me to extend the invitation to have you interred at a place of honor in the Grand Necropolis, and personally supervised by myself and future High Priests. (Dorian's pretty script is added at the bottom) Yes you must! (Cassandra has added a note of her own) No, absolutely not.

*delivered to Josephine’s desk*

Cause I know you’d strangle me for insulting someone if you didn’t get to edit the damn thing. - Tiaa

To Your High *there are several splotches of ink like someone was holding the quill over the paper* Whatever your actual title is.  High Smelly Grace of Zombie Vale,

If I die anytime in the near future I assure you that the arrangements of my funeral are likely going to be the last thing you have to worry about.  You’re more likely to have demons, crazy ass templars, fucked up wardens, or a few other nasty things battering down your walls within the year.  Makes it hard to care much about my body.

I would also like to point out that unless I suddenly die of natural causes or old age, there’s not likely to be much left of me to be interred.  Makes it hard to really to have an eternity in a crypt seem like something I want to do when I am likely to be sliced in half by demon claws or something.

Lastly, as the Herald of Andraste don’t you think I should follow the Andrastian method of burial and piss off a powerful empire into executing me via pyre?  I have to say it holds more appeal and I wouldn’t have to worry about things like gross old men that might decide I’m rotted enough to fornicate with.

Sincerely,

Inquisitor Trevelyan

————————-

*A note sent to Dorian*

D,

No offense to your love of raising the dead but if I’m not using my body I really don’t want other people using it unless I know what they are using it for.  That was true for when I was alive and it’ll still hold true when I’m dead.  

Remind me to tell you of the horrible things I’ve heard of people doing to Tranquil down here, it’ll illustrate why.  Or better yet ask Templar.  His bunch were notorious for it in Kirkwall I hear.

-T

4

Samson knight in red,
He hath lost his way
Armor laced with blood

Shall reclaim his name.

Finally. I thought I might try some Cullen the Red Templar stuff. One picture became strip, strip became… long. Longer than it was originally supposed to be. And… I don’t mind. I guess.

Also yes, I disarranged the lyrics of Samson’s tale a bit.

stripeydani replied to your post “stripeydani replied to your post “i mean she’s still cute as shit in…”

Booooooobies 8D Whereas I wish there was an option for smaller boobs for Libby xD

i would kill for a body slider a la saints row. or hell, even skyrim. i know there can be clipping issues with armor or whatever, but i never noticed it when i made my dragonborn babes thick as possible

keagan would be pretty soft and curvy, especially early on (i’ve thought a lot about her body, actually. rambling here. early skyhold/knight-enchanter spec concept here.)

and melisande, my archer, would be ripped. like jennifer widerstrom:

rawr ♥♥

2

okay but workalcoholic parents carrying their kid everywhere.