Chapter Text
This... This was certainly not the way to the kitchens. Damn that Qunari and his incoherent drunken ramblings! Cullen huffed out a breath and frowned at his surroundings while inhaling the unmistakable scent of soap, were those... were those his small clothes? They were! And those were there... those were not his small clothes. He felt his cheeks warm as he peered across the room at the pretty white pair with small pink blotches beside his own, flapping gently in the breeze that entered through the open archways. No, they were not his, not at all. But they were someone's. Cullen, at the worst of times, was a curious man and as he continued to stare the pink spots started to take shape and he inched closer to properly make them out.
Love hearts? Which of his companions could possibly be sporting a pair of smalls littered with love hearts.
"Can I help you, young man?"
Cullen jumped, startled by the husky scratching voice that sounded behind him. He turned his head slowly - cheeks burning more than he thought them capable of - and came face to face with a scraggly looking old woman.
"Likes looking at thems up there underthings do ya?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I, uh, no. Not particularly. I was... I was just seeing if mine were dry," he stammered in his lie while rubbing at the back of his neck.
The old woman grunted and dropped the basket that she held at her hip to the ground. "Liar," she said with a small smile twitching along her lips. "Well, since you're downs here you can helps an old woman out. Don't likes to bends too much you see, there's a good lad."
Cullen stood stiffly as she eyed him up and down. "Don't worry your pretty little head boy, I ain't telling no one thats you were downs here looking at their intimates."
He gave a shudder. Maker, she made him sound so indecent. It wasn't as if he had come down here for that reason after all, but who was he to argue with an old woman? He crouched, grabbed a damp item from the basket with averted eyes and handed it to the woman.
"You can tells a lot about someone by their intimates, you know," she stated as her wrinkled hands pegged the clothing to the line.
"Your ones for example..." Cullen cut her off, "how do you know which ones are mine?" he asked.
She snorted. "It's obvious. Practical, very practical. Nothing flashy and they are the sames color as thems crimson clothing you wears alls the time. Matching, keeping order, just hows you likes it."
Cullen stared at her stunned, how... how could she possibly know all of this from his smalls?
She smirked and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Would you like to know more?" she asked and he nodded at her simply with his lips slightly parted.
"Well, you haves already seen these. Thems belong to that warrior woman. They be her lucky pairs, all them ones with the hearts. Always wears them to battle. She gots a softness behind all that metal, bets you didn't know that nows, did ya?" Cullen shook his head and handed her another pair to hang up.
"Ah, now these, yes I knows these. Belong to thats horned pirate. Looks at them, all tattered and raggedy. That one there has troubles letting go of his past. But one day something will break and he will haves to choose. Hold onto the past or lets go and charge into the future."
He didn't know what to say to that and she patted his cheek indulgently as he continued to stare at the Qunari's small clothes that were coming loose at the seams. "Not everything is as it seems on the surface my boy."
Cullen grasped another pair of smalls from the basket and handed them off. "And, uh, and these?" he asked quietly.
"These ones, well now, these are specials. These belong to someone who wants to feels pretty, to feels desirable. These belongs to someone that wears pretty, little delicate smalls in case the man she wants to see thems finally gets up the courage to uncover thems. These, well, they belongs to your fearless leader."
Cullen swallowed hard, they were hers. Should he look? He was barely through asking himself that before his eyes had darted to them. They were pretty, very pretty. They appeared to be almost silky in texture, so much so that he wanted to reach out and rub the fine material between his fingers. They were perfect, cream colored and almost sheer with a red ribbon weaved through the eyelets that made two lines down the front. These were what she wore beneath all that armor? He pulled in a sharp breath and flicked his eyes from the smalls back to the old woman and she chuckled.
"Now, who is it you thinks she wants to see thems?" she asked while throwing him a wink.