Chapter Text
Her blades spiralled in a deadly arc, the bandits quickly sagging to the ground. Sera picked off the rival archers with a volley of arrows as Dorian’s lightning bolts stunned the foes. Cullen himself felt momentarily stunned by the skill of the Inquisitor’s moves. The blades sang in her palms as if they were an extension of her own arms. He gasped as a large brute barrelled toward her. Cullen instinctively surged forward to offer support only to find himself captivated by the sight of her allowing her enemy to come close.
Just as the bandit lowered himself to attack, the Inquisitor hurled herself spinning over his body her dagger neatly slicing through his throat as she twirled. The bandit clutched at his throat in shock before collapsing.
“Impressive isn’t she?” Dorian asked, Cullen found himself simply nodding, unable to indulge his admiration further as he sensed another opponent behind him. Cullen struck blindly with his pommel, feeling the soft impact on his rival’s stomach before following through with a fatal swipe. Cullen’s movements were well-practised, methodical but he didn’t take obvious pleasure in the fight unlike the others.
The field continued to swarm with enemies, Cullen’s eyes narrowed as he lost sight of the Inquisitor. A dark shroud protected her form as she sliced through the waves of attackers, taunting and luring them precariously close.
“Woooo! Way to go Boss!” Iron Bull called encouragement, as he brought his hammer down with a sickening thud into his opponent.
“Don’t encourage her, it’s reckless, and…” Cullen frowned; disapproving of the enjoyment the group seemed to be taking in the brawl.
“Hey, Boss! The Commander thinks you’re being reckless.”
The Inquisitor re-emerged from the invisibility haze, blood painting her tight leather armour as she smiled at the men -the battle seemingly over.
“Don’t worry, Cullen. This is always how it goes down. She’s a whirlwind.” Bull laughed in approval.
“Yes, she is.” Cullen replied, his voice strained as he watched her saunter toward them. Her eyes flashed with excitement, her chest rising and falling as she regained her composure. The sight immediately shot to Cullen’s groin in recognition. He cleared his throat, aware of his companions close enough to observe any gesture more than friendly between them.
The Inquisitor was now close enough for Cullen to touch; his inability to do so was infuriating.
He exhaled through his nose and re-sheathed his sword as her eyes scanned his face. Before he could speak, her eyes narrowed a little and she lifted her hand. He flinched at the overt display of affection she seemed to be offering- the flinch becoming a gasp as her hand swiped near his head and the sound of another man collapsing behind him drew his attention. He spun round to see a body at his feet, her blade buried in his eye.
“Now we’re done. Shall we find a place to camp?” Her sweet voice asked in shocking contrast to the gruesome task of retrieving her dagger.
“This is how it always ‘goes down’?” Cullen asked.
“Every frickin’ time.” Bull responded, slapping Cullen on the back.
The answer was disturbing and thrilling. Of course Cullen knew the Inquisitor was formidable in battle, he’d just never had the privilege of seeing it first-hand until now.
“You catching flies?” Sera laughed as she passed him, her hand tilting his chin. He hadn’t even realised he’d been staring open mouthed at the Inquisitor’s delightful form as she scoured the land ahead of him.
The rest of the day was uneventful according to Sera and the Inquisitor, although Cullen winced as he watched her slam her body into piles of barrels, seemingly to retrieve trivial souvenirs (“You could just open them?” he suggested, the comment was simply met with laughter by the party – apparently this was how things were done.) Through his disapproval laced a hot surge of arousal that he struggled to command.
“So this is why you always come home covered in bruises.” He smirked, immediately blushing at the candour in his voice. Though, thankfully, the other members of the party were occupied the Inquisitor shot him a quick look which was difficult to decipher. She had been reluctant to let him accompany them and now, perhaps, was having second thoughts again.
Before Cullen could make further conversation her eyes lit up as she spotted another pile of crates. He whipped his hand out quickly to prevent her careening into them but she was too quick for him, too quick for anyone really, and had somersaulted into the collection shattering the peace with the splintering of wood.
Cullen gazed in wonder at the strength and fluidity of her movements as she collected some dusty bottles from the debris.
“In case you were wondering, this is how she keeps our fine cellars restocked. Probably not the best use of the Inquisition’s time and resources, but it is rather fun.” Dorian smirked at him.
“Hirol’s Lava Burst” The Inquisitor announced as she ran back to the men, pleased with her find “We can try it later, once we’ve finally set up camp for the night.”
“Excellent plan!” Dorian rubbed his hands together. As he was examining the bottle, Cullen kept his eyes firmly on the Inquisitor who returned his stare with a wink as she picked pieces of broken crate from her hair.
“Hey, Quizzy, you see that?” Sera drew her attention to a glimmering object on a ledge above them.
“Shit, another shard.” Bull grumbled, ready for a lengthy detour.
“This is how you find these shards? Fascinating, I always assumed that they’d be better protected. Hidden almost.” Cullen had spent far too long leading from behind a desk. Although he was anxious for the Inquisitor’s safety, he had begun to enjoy being out in the fresh air, the physical activity, the beautiful vistas reminding him of the purpose of the Inquisition. This was what they were fighting to protect after all.
“Can’t see an easy path up there…” The Inquisitor began to muse, scratching her chin as her mind worked two steps ahead, calculating the distance and possible footholds in the rock.
“There never is…perhaps we could forego this one in favour of an early night and some of that delicious…” Before Dorian could finish speaking, the Inquisitor had leapt up and used her arms to pull her body weight up further to the first foothold in the sheer rock in front of her.
Cullen immediately drew in his breath, her body shimmying up the rock face as if she were a lizard. Her hands and feet knowing precisely the pattern to draw, seemingly finding purchase in imperceptible grooves.
“Maker preserve me…” he began, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun as he traced the path she was taking with his eyes.
“I know right? She’s mad but she always finds a way somehow…or doesn’t and falls right on her arse.” Sera laughed next to him.
“You’re not serious?” To risk a fall from that height…he shuddered.
“I’m never serious Cully-Wully but I ain’t lying. She’s always picking herself up from a tumble. The last time we were out…Ow!” Bull had sharply dug Sera in the ribs, seeing the concern on Cullen’s face.
“She’s just messin’ with you. We’d not let the Boss risk her neck for real. She knows what she’s doing.”
Now several feet above their heads, Cullen tried to avoid staring directly at her figure as the muscles in her thighs and buttocks worked to propel her onto the ledge. The little grunts and moans she made were fuelling obscene ideas in the commander’s head making him feel instantly ashamed of himself. Suddenly she called out in triumph before flinging the shard down to Dorian who safely pocketed it. A second later the inquisitor flung herself down, Cullen immediately dashed forward to catch her and she looked genuinely surprised as he quickly set her on her feet before awkwardly standing apart, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well that was a nice surprise; this lot usually just let me fall on my arse.”
“See, I told you!” Sera said, sticking her tongue out at Bull.
“I’m beginning to understand why you let this knight in shining armour accompany us after all.” Dorian said with a raised eyebrow as they began to move forward.
“He insisted – wanted to better understand the enemies we were engaging blah blah blah.” The Inquisitor teased, gently deflecting Dorian’s suspicions.
Later at camp, the party sat together finishing their roast nug and relaxing their weary muscles. Dorian produced the new bottle from his bag and opened it with a flourish. He sniffed it, immediately recoiling, before gingerly bringing the bottle to his lips. One cautious sip as the rest of the group watched him with interest.
“Mmm, not bad.” Was his considered verdict as he passed the bottle around the group.
“The dwarves sure know how to make a good brew.” Bull commented after his glug.
Cullen watched the Inquisitor with interest as she knocked back a noisy gulp and licked her lips, the liquor making them glisten in the camp light. While he imagined how they would taste: warm and sweet against his tongue, he missed Sera holding the bottle to him.
“Oh, come on Commander Uptight. You wanted to know what it was like out on the road with us.” She shook the alarmingly small remaining amount in front of him. The Inquisitor smiled encouragingly as he grinned and took an equally large gulp for himself. He immediately began to cough:
“It tastes like burning!” He complained, eyes watering. Around him he was aware that the group were laughing, Sera physically rolling next to him on the floor.
“I forgot the Fereldan palate was so bland.” Dorian quipped, reclaiming the bottle.
As it was passed around a couple more times, the burning became more addictive like a deep, satisfying glow that made Cullen’s inhibitions lessen. He found his eyes roving over the Inquisitor with open hunger. At Skyhold they’d perfected a routine to maintain their relationship in private, the secrecy adding a desperate thrill to their stolen nights together. Cullen hadn’t dared to imagine they’d be able to enjoy each other while out on this mission but, emboldened by the drink, he began planning how and where and when he could finally get his hands on this glorious woman who’d tortured him all day with her devastating finesse in battle and fearless attacks on the landscape.
Soon she was standing, stretching her gorgeous limbs, her tunic riding up just enough for Cullen to glimpse the soft dents and curve at the base of her abdomen. A recollection of him running his tongue along that groove flashed into his mind so he could just about murmur ‘goodnight’ when she departed from the group.