My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  "No!" Lana shouted feeling like a petulant child but also in no mood for healing her own back.

  "I'll go and get a templar, he'll do you up a right treat and then you'll get your what-for," she threatened, banging the brush against Lana's skin. Even through the rock armor, she could still feel it knocking into her. Twisting her anger into mana, Lana threw a fist from the fade into the brush. It flew up out of the woman's hands and smashed against the ground with enough force to bury itself into the dirt. Lana glowered at the woman while she removed her stone armor, but the woman remained unimpressed.

  "Look at what you did. Now I'll have to wash it, then wash you."

  "It will not touch me!" Lana screamed, the pounding in her head matched by the throb of her skin. The woman wasn't about to give up either, the two ready to come to blows or worse when a new voice joined in the fray.

  "Is there a problem here?" Sweet Andraste! Lana sunk lower from that voice, curling her arms around her naked flesh while crumpling into a ball. Out of all the impromptu stable washings in all of thedas, he had to stroll into this one. She placed her ear against the wooden wall while keeping the rest of her hidden from view.

  "Nope, Commander," the she-devil answered back. "Just washing up this vagrant. Spymaster's orders."

  "Vagrant?" Cullen asked. He stepped towards the partition and was about to peer in at the to-be-washed in question when Lana popped up.

  "Hi," she said. Cullen skittered back, the demon brush he scooped up almost flying out of his hands. She tried to sound cheerful but her eyes pleaded with him to save her.

  "Lana, what are you..." He shook his head and swallowed a few times from the surprise of her leaping out of any corner of Skyhold. A blush bloomed over his forehead as it must have dawned on him that she was completely naked behind only a few thin scraps of wood. "Ma'am," Cullen straightened up, turning to the she-devil, "do you not know who this is?"

  "Don't know, don't care," she answered. "All I know is we don't need possible blight running through the hold." To punctuate her sentiment, she dumped another bucket of ice water onto her victim's head. Lana managed to swallow down the screams to a minimum, but the water bit into her flesh, the pain fresh courtesy of the brush's attack. As Lana wiped her crumpled hair out of her face, she swore she caught the barest hints of a smirk crossing Cullen's face. But by the time she finished knotting her hair back and wringing it out, he wore the same stern countenance as before.

  Lana was about to speak to him when the woman threw another bucket of water at her, this one somehow even colder. "For Andraste's sake, woman, are you trying to drown me?!" Lana moaned, shaking her head like a wet dog.

  "I'm doing as I was told," the she-devil repeated for the fiftieth time. Lana would almost feel for her if it weren't for the gleeful glint in her eye. She readied another bucket when Cullen grabbed onto her hand, the bucket swinging in a threat to splatter anyone else.

  "That is probably enough to clear away any threat of blight," he focused on the woman but his eyes darted towards Lana in her drenched state and they overran with pity.

  Then the strangest thing happened. This monstrous creature from a nightmare realm blushed, a stammer never before thought possible crumpled up her lips and she nodded, "Aye, if you say so, Ser. I think she's probably had enough going over for one day."

  "Good," Cullen said. He extracted the bucket from the woman's hands and placed it on the grass. When he turned back to Lana, his voice shifted to a whisper, "I admit, I didn't expect to find you here."

  "Naked and nearly drowned beside the horses? Isn't that how you greet all dignitaries in Skyhold?" Lana tripped back to the safety of sarcasm. She hadn't had time to process what his being here meant, if it should even mean anything to either of them. Three years was a long time, and he'd have had ample opportunity to move on from whatever it was they fumbled around in the deep roads. The dashing commander, once loyal templar knight turned rogue heretic, oh that had to get some ladies panting. They were probably drawing lots to see who'd get first go at him in parlors across Orlais. Lana convinced herself that Cullen already had a wife and two children before Leliana even got her to the stables for her cleansing.

  Cullen shook his head, uncertain if he should laugh at her sentiments or not. "Are you all right?"

  "Very, very cold," as Lana's anger subsided so did her resistance to the mountain breeze prickling against her frozen skin. She massaged her hands against her arms willing the friction to warm her, but it wasn't enough. Stepping into fire might not be enough.

  "Of course, you should...um," Cullen turned to the she-devil and said, "What happened to La...the vagrant's...her clothes?"

  "Boiling 'em, got to get all the blight. Only way," she said dusting her hands off.

  Cullen blanched and turned back to Lana, but she shrugged. Something told her it'd be a long time before she saw her gear again. What was a whole day spent standing in the yard trying to ignore the stares while freezing to death? She'd certainly done worse.

  "Here," the she-devil chucked a piece of cloth at Lana's head.

  By sheer willpower, she managed to catch it before it soaked into her hair. It wasn't a towel but a robe, almost but not quite silk. If it weren't for the bland color, she'd almost think it was one of Leliana's. Lana slipped her arms into the grey robe and knotted off the belt around her waist. The fabric was so thin the water against her skin washed it nearly translucent, but nearly was better than fully naked. It clung to what she had for hips, bunching behind her. She ran her hands down the back to try and smooth it out. "Oh, for the love of the Maker. This thing barely even covers my...uh." The blush burned across her skin raising the goosepimples even higher as she did her best to avoid eye contact with the commander. "May I have some pants?" Lana struggled to get her voice to a calm question.

  The she-devil yanked open the partition and smiled, "No." Lana dropped her hands down the front and back of the robe, trying to tug it down so she didn't moon the entire army. Unfortunately, that also pulled down the top, exposing more of her chest. A dark urge to pulverize the woman to paste rose through her mind, but she tamped it back. It wouldn't help anyway. She'd still be just as nearly naked and now have a dead body to deal with.

  Cullen's eyes were drawn by Lana's hands scurrying to cover herself, but he snapped them up to the top of her head. Coughing and swallowing a dozen um's, he finally managed to say, "Lady A...I think, that is to say, I know a way to. Follow me."

  "What?" Lana glanced up at him. He pinned his gaze above her, terrified to look anywhere in her exposed direction.

  "I have clothing you can borrow."

  "Sweet Andraste!" Lana cried. He gestured to the stairs, then paled as he realized the logistics of her trying to climb them while in such a short garment.

  "What if I, you go ahead of me," Cullen paused in his steps and let her take the lead.

  She stepped up a few of the stairs and paused, uncertain where to head, when he sidled in behind her so close it blocked off any view of her backside. "Thank you," Lana whispered. Together they climbed like that, Lana yanking down on the robe while Cullen shielded her. His hands slid along the railings on both sides while she felt his eyes boring into the back of her head. The discipline of templars was something of legend. "Um," Lana paused, "which way do I go?"

  His warm breath ruffled her frozen skin, "To your right. Don't worry, I'll stick close."

  By the grace of the Maker, they made it to his office without stumbling across anyone else, though something told her Cullen was passing signs to his people to get out of the way. Or glaring them out of the way. Regardless, she was grateful as they stumbled into a place with walls, and doors, and no other people gawping at her. While Cullen shut the door, Lana gazed around the room. Like the rest of Skyhold it was mostly finished with a pile of pried up wood tossed in the corner and a tree trying to break inside. Surely, given time, it'd be cleared up. He had a practice dummy strapped to a wall, its face full of daggers. Lana wondered who he was thinking
of while working through that rage. His desk was a disaster; bottles half finished, meals forgotten, papers piled in unsound towers, and all of it coated in wax from tipped candles while someone paced about. The few chairs were also covered in books, papers, and what looked like a small chess set. Lana snickered at the sight, drawing Cullen's attention.

  "Sorry, I...The seneschal at Vigil's Keep used to have stern words with me often for failing to properly inventory my missives. Said it made it impossible to prepare the books," she smiled but the memory stung back. The keep, her keep that was once full to bursting.

  "It's my, things have been..." Cullen scampered past her and bundled up the filthy flatware and bottles in his arms as if he had anywhere to put them. Whipping his head around the office, he realized the only logical place was the desk he just yanked them off of. Shrugging at his blunder, he looked over at Lana standing in frozen bare feet with the robe suckered against her skin, and a blush burst across his cheeks. It was so bright, for a brief moment Lana feared he contracted a fever from his working squalor.

  "You needed...wanted to change into proper clothing." Opening his arms, Cullen dumped his trash across the desk.

  "Proper isn't necessary, I'll accept anything that reaches my thighs at this point," Lana sighed. She folded her arms across her chest and knocked against her nipples hard enough to crack though ice. Oh, so that's why...a blush to match the commander's curled up her stomach.

  Cullen glanced around as if he expected pants to appear from thin air, then he sighed, "My clothing is up...give me a moment, please." Before Lana could respond, he grabbed onto the ladder in the midst of the room and climbed skyward. She craned her neck up to watch, savoring the way his thigh muscles strained from the exertion. What are you doing? Lana snapped out of her reverie as Cullen vanished into his little loft. With her arms still wrapped around her chest, Lana flitted about the room inspecting but not touching the bookshelf. Most of the titles were what one would expect a leader of an army to own. She'd had more than a few in her own little library, though field marching tactics offered little advice in the way of fighting darkspawn. Most formations for warfare would fail instantly in the deep with soldiers plopping off cliffs and falling into lava.

  "I think this, hope this will suffice until your clothing is dry," Cullen's voice called from above. The ladder creaked from his weight as he began the climb back down.

  "You have a book by Brother Genativi?" Lana shouted so he'd hear. She pulled on the thinner tome and found it wasn't an account of chantry lore or thedas history but a tale of his time bumping into the Dalish. There was no mention of werewolves, or rhyming trees for that matter, but her heart bloomed from the loping words of the kindly and curious man she once rescued. She slipped the book back into its place and continued to explore his shelves.

  "Ah, yes, there are more than a few of his histories around Skyhold if you're curious. I don't have many here, and..." Cullen paused upon the ladder, only one step from the ground, his eyes peering between the rungs, "What are you looking at?"

  Lana yanked out the book that sparked her curiosity; a cover of throbbing red was all it needed to warn the reader of the dangers lurking within. "This? You own this? The Awakening of the Dragon King?" Her eyebrows shot up as she dangled the tome before him. Cullen massaged the back of his neck and he glared a hole through his already ramshackle ceiling. She knew he was struggling to either admit he had no idea what the book was or call her on the fact that she knew exactly what it was.

  He chose option number three, "I thought it was a history of King Calenhad."

  Lana smirked, "It sort of is, if you snip out all the dirty parts. Though I think that leaves you with ten pages at best." Still smiling, she placed the book back where she found it.

  "Here," Cullen extended a pair of trousers towards her, "I doubt they will fit you, but it was the best I had."

  "Thank you," Lana accepted them. The knees were worn to a soft tan, but the seems were sturdy and what did it matter? It was better than the nothing she had on. Lana bent over to hook her leg into the pants when she heard a strangled goose sound. It was so inhuman she snapped up into the amber eyes of the commander. His own attention was focused upon her breasts trying to spill free from the top of the robe. He flinched as his mind caught up with his body and Cullen actually smacked a hand over his eyes. Returning to sliding the pants on, Lana cursed to herself that the man had to stop being so damn adorable. She yanked the pants above her hips only to have them slide back down.

  "You wouldn't happen to have an extra belt, would you?" she asked while holding the edge of the pants up.

  "That, I...I'm afraid not," Cullen admitted, defeat ringing through him.

  Lana waved her hand, "It's no mind." Rolling the top of the pants down, she shortened and tightened them with each fold until they clung loosely to her thin hips. It also pulled up the crotch so she didn't feel quite so untethered and free. Asking for smallclothes would probably put Cullen on the pyre.

  "I thought this might help as well," Cullen said as he passed over a tunic. The colors had faded to a dull grey and it was softer than velvet from wear, but someone took the time to blot away any stains and mend a torn seam under the arm. Lana slipped the tunic over her head and found just how much she and the commander differed in size. The arms dangled a full cuff off the ends of her fingertips. Due to not having the same strapping shoulders, the neck of the tunic bowed deep down her chest, leaving that pesky cleavage on display. She rolled up the arms, but there wasn't much of an easy way to solve the low neck even with the starched collar.

  "Is it...it doesn't fit as well as--" Cullen danced back and forth on his feet, his eyes wanting but not staring at her.

  Lana interrupted him, "It's fine, it's good, better than what was on offer. Thank you for it."

  "You're, uh...why did Leliana send you out to the stables for that? If you don't mind my asking. If you do, you don't have to answer."

  A smile warmed up her cold body. Despite the commanding presence that wilted stable hands turned she-devils it was still the same Cullen under all that armor. And he didn't even know the power he had to sway hearts. Not that he was the type to use it. Lana slid up onto his desk yanking the ill fitting pants lower, but it got her feet off the cold stone ground.

  "I suspect she's mad at me for 'missing' her summons."

  "Ah," Cullen stepped closer to her and tried to smoothly lean his body against the desk. Unfortunately, he misjudged the distance and his body slid lower to an uncomfortable position. His elbow clanged against a bottle and his waist twisted against the desk's edge. Lana watched, waiting for him to try again, but judging by the blush he was too terrified to try.

  "I didn't try to miss it or 'order people to obscure my location' as she insinuated. I was in the deep roads at the time, didn't even know of the conclave or this Inquisition. By the time the Temple of Sacred Ashes was attacked I was off in Orlais jabbing my thumb in some prickly pies," Lana slipped further back on the desk, her bum knocking into the scattered dishes.

  "But to have you scrubbed down and on the stable grounds," Cullen shook his head, a look of shock twisting up his face. Did he not know his Spymaster's past?

  "Never get on Leliana's bad side, trust me."

  Cullen nodded, "I'm coming to realize this."

  "She was right about the blight though. And it maybe being transmitted through clothing or on skin, we're not sure. Grey wardens, we sort of stop noticing it after awhile and it can...it can wreak havoc amongst armies."

  "I thought you were in Crestwood not the deep roads."

  Lana shrugged, causing her bare shoulder to peek out of the tunic's bowing neckline, "Wardens and Blight, we're inseparable."

  A soft silence descended between them, both staring ahead at the shut door and trying to pick through four years of complicated history. She'd bet on foolish hope recently, only to have it burst apart on her. To try again... It seemed cruel to even dangle the idea before him, or her. After she left Kirkwal
l and returned to Amaranthine, Lana kicked herself for giving in to...Maker, she still wasn't certain. A schoolgirl crush? Years of lonely lust? Or was it a crisis of faith in her life, a crisis she had yet to solve? Regardless, it was her burden, not his. He had more than enough golden opportunities to find contentment here in this magnificent hold. Just not with the she-devils of baths.

  Cullen coughed drawing Lana's attention to him. Maker, how she missed losing herself in those doleful eyes, like a drop of golden honey settling in a mug of warm tea. "You, uh, um, your hair is longer," he stuttered out.

  She picked up the end of the strands and ran them through her fingers. "Haven't had an opportunity to attend to it lately. Not many barbers in the deep roads. Ample opportunity there with no competition if one's willing to shave darkspawn." Lana dropped her own locks and stared at his, "Yours is...different?"

  "Oh, that! I...well," Cullen dug his fingers across his scalp rifling the golden waves that she remembered as ringlets. "It's a not very interesting tale of...change. I wanted a change, I guess." Lana nodded, she knew that feeling if not quite the execution. It'd take blood magic to erase her curls. "Do you...um," his voice dropped to a whisper, "do you like it?"

  "I..." Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but for a brief moment his face reminded her of Alistair, sweet brown eyes and sweptback blonde hair. Her face constricted from the memory but Cullen had to only see disgust. She tried to chuckle to cover up for the wound weeping in her heart. "It suits you. But so did the curls, so, I suppose whatever you want to do. I'm not one to judge or offer advice on matters of hair design things. Darkspawn rarely care about such things, not that I tend to ask them. It's all...I'm going to stop talking now."

  He bobbed his head, his eyes drifting down to her exposed shoulder. Whispering to the wind, he said, "I worried for you."

  "For me? That's a full time job," Lana smirked, then grimaced. The wall kept her aloof from people. It was supposed to keep her and others safe from not getting attached, but look how well that turned out. She drew her fingers across his gloved hand perched upon the desk. "I was worried about you too. After the explosion at Kirkwall, I..."