Moments

Moment of Fluff

There was such concentration upon his brow, I had to ask, "Yes?"

"It is a, well, um, I used to wonder if your tattoos were..."

I nodded, having heard the same question from far less savory lips. "If they went all the way down?" I finished for him.

A bright blush lit up his cheeks, "If that's wrong to ask, I was just thinking that you're so...and they're a part of you...I'm sorry."

Inching up, I patted his cheek, the blush warm beneath my fingers, "It is offensive to my people, but I'll allow it because you're damn fine naked." Cullen smiled, picked my hand up in his own, and leaned down towards me for a kiss.

Inches from me he twisted his head to the side. "Why are there feathers on the bed?" To demonstrate his question, he drew one of the black ones across my vision.

"Because a certain commander of the Inquisition can't be arsed to fix a hole in his own roof."

Cullen rolled the feather pinched in his fingers, hypnotized by the black iridescence. "It is not a major issue."

"Not until a bird flies in and shits all over you while you're sleeping," I said. He shrugged, glancing towards one of the holes. The massive one with a tree prodding through it. I suspected a bird's nest roosted in the second based upon the peeping every morning.

"You know I have a perfectly sound roof over top my own massive room with a warm bed."

He didn't look up from the feather, "I am aware." A but hung unsaid in the air.

Rather than get an answer, I twisted my head towards the hole and asked, "What do you do when it rains?" I'd wondered since I first spotted the hole after we moved into Skyhold.

"I put out a basin, which I can use to wash up in the morning."

"Cullen..."

"There are greater concerns than the state of the roof over my head." He placed the feather upon the nightstand already covered in the things and slid his body off mine. Cold seeped in to rattle my flesh as he moved away. I reached out, snagging his fingers before he fully escaped. Eyes, broken by monsters still prowling at the edges of his mind, twisted back to me. Using his own body as leverage, I pulled myself up and -- knotting his curly hair around my fingers -- I brought his forehead to mine.

Cullen sighed, "In truth, I didn't have much reason to use my bed until recent." A smile curled up that scarred lip, but I knew it was forced. Patting his cheek, I pulled him closer.

"Maybe you should make up for lost time." His body waffled until I pulled out my secret weapon and waggled my eyebrows thrice. Laughing, Cullen crumpled into me, pushing my body down with his deeper into the straw mattress. His hand circled around my breast while mine drifted down his lower back to cup his ass.

Hinges rattled below, the door squeaking as a voice called out, "Commander?"

"Shit," I cursed, flopping my head back. I recognized the voice of Cullen's early riser. She was a great solider, always quick with the reports, giving 110% for the cause, and made a decent shield wall. But at the moment I wished the dwarf dead with every fiber of my being.

He mouthed a silent apology to me, then raised his voice, "I'll be down in a moment!"

"I can wait, Ser," she shouted back.

Welp, so much for that. Cullen rose from me, yanking up his piles of discarded armor and slotting it on as quickly as possible. Still, despite losing the interactive portion, I at least enjoyed watching the show. In his haste, he knotted the cape portion upon an arm and spun around trying to catch it. Rising from the bed, I grabbed him and fixed it, unfurling the fabric so it dangled properly. Or at least how he wore it. I swore off shemlan fashion after the orlesian ball. Proper and common sense didn't seem to come in their wheelhouse.