My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  "No, I had been with someone before that," Lana's voice drifted away, the end of her sentence falling to a whisper.

  Cullen's fingers danced up and down her stomach meandering close to her wound but never touching it. Gathering his thoughts, he gripped tighter to her while confessing, "I was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and about to become a full templar, which meant transferring away from the training grounds in Denerim to the Circle."

  "And there was a girl," Lana spoke for him, smiling from the familiar tale.

  "She was fascinated with me, but I...I mean, I liked her well enough and," Cullen's words dropped to the ground and he buried his face in her shoulder. She felt his shame burning up through her own skin. "I didn't love her, I wished I had."

  "You were young," Lana tried to soothe him.

  "I've always feared I used her to try and confer a sense of adulthood before moving on to being a full knight. It..."

  Now she spun fully in his lap and perched upon her knees, her arms knotting around her neck. Cullen's head hung low, his chin dipping into his chest. How did she keep falling for these types? How did they even exist anymore? Cupping her fingers along his jaw, Lana pulled his eyes to hers. "And now she can brag to everyone that she was with the Commander of the Inquisition. For all you know, she used you." She ruffled up his scruff, her finger darting along the scar above his lip. Cullen scoffed at first, but then he turned in her grasp and pressed a kiss against her palm.

  Blinking from their strange confessions, he asked, "Did you love your first?"

  Lana tried to not rear back, to keep her face neutral. She wanted to lie, a lie would make him feel better, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. "Yes."

  "That's good."

  "I don't know. It hurts more," she drifted off her knees and twisted back around to face the fire. Cullen's arms lay slack upon his thighs until she grabbed both and wrapped them around her like a cloak. Talking about him, thinking about him was the absolute last thing Lana wanted to do, especially with Cullen. It should have stayed in the past where it belonged.

  "Well," Cullen broke their awkward silence, "that about covers every subject one never wants to discuss."

  "Give me time, I'm certain I can insert my foot deeper into my mouth," Lana chuckled, but the mirth was forced. She sat up higher, her back against Cullen's chest, but her head drifted away from him.

  "I doubt you can out maneuver me in that matter," he whispered to the air. "Josephine's all but chased me from the throne room whenever people with more than two titles in front of their name are visiting."

  She could see the ambassador waving a broom trying to shoo the commander after he accidentally insulted some Bann or Viscount. Or maybe Josephine just lifted an eyebrow, pointed with her quill, and a dozen shadowed diplomats would fall from the ceiling to drag him away. "Oh, that's nothing," Lana spoke up. "When I first became Arlessa of Amaranthine, I had a party sprung upon me. Everyone was supposed to swear fealty and it was super important I guess, but I walked off before they finished. There was no precedent so they had to go back over it all again."

  "I called a Duke a shrill, pompous windbag to his face."

  "Which Duke?"

  Cullen shrugged. "Does it matter?" which earned him an even greater laugh as she twisted in his grasp to face him. Laying her head upon his chest, Lana hugged her arms around his back, pulling herself closer.

  Her fingers danced against his tunic, wishing she could feel the bare skin below instead. "How did we wind up in the echelons of nobility?"

  Cullen pulled back the hair off her neck and caressed her cheek, his fingers trailing down her skin towards her birthmark. "A joke of the Maker, I assume," he whispered to her. "Why should life ever be easy for me?"

  "Or me..." she sighed. In her marrow, Lana knew she shouldn't complain. For the Maker's sake, she was alive counter to every horror thedas could conjure. She'd survived countless battles, fights where people with better training didn't come out the other side. And yet, maybe she'd be a better person if none of it had ever happened. If she didn't have the scars on her skin or across her mind.

  Strong hands held onto her marked shoulders. Was he thinking the same, feeling the same? Atonement could only get a person so far when the person still castigating you was yourself. Cullen pulled her tighter to him, his chin knocking against her forehead as he whispered, "How are you here? I don't, I never deserved..."

  "Shh..." Lana's finger pressed against his lips and he tipped back, his amber eyes turning down towards her. She shifted her finger to the left lining it up with his scar. "We have until the end of an entire storm to be alone before...all of that comes back." Lana gestured out towards Skyhold, Orlais and Ferelden, all of thedas itself. Every person needing another piece of them, chipping it away until nothing remained. But right now she could have him all to herself; no duty, no threats of imminent death from darkspawn, no clowns.

  Cullen caught her change in demeanor, his fingers sliding off her shoulders as Lana wrapped her hands around his neck so she could stretch her back above him. Catching his lips in a deep kiss, a heat rolled through her body that had nothing to do with magic. When she came up for air, she whispered in his ear, "I think we've wasted enough time."

  His eyes hunted across hers, curiosity and lust burning in them. Lana stretched herself higher, her fingers digging through his hair as she kept up the assault on his lips. "Um..." Cullen broke away for a moment to glance at the minor fire roaring in the hearth. "Is it going to be...?"

  She bit down on a grumble at herself and carefully pulled back on the flames until only a few embers lit up the room. Soft shadows flickered across his face, smoothing away the worry wrinkles beside his eyes and along his brow. "Better?" she asked, unable to hide her small shame. She hadn't meant to lose it before, didn't want to, certainly not with a templar in the room. It was dangerous to... Lana gritted at that thread in her brain. He wasn't a templar anymore, she had to remember that.

  Fingers curled around the small of her back and glided below her shirt. Lana's eyes slipped shut as Cullen kneaded against her muscles, his own lips pressing up and down her neck. Forget all that doubt, just be here in this moment. Maker only knows how many more there will be. The fingers slipped around to her stomach and reached up to cup her breasts. Lana moaned, her hands flying out to grasp onto his shoulders. The motion caused her eyes to flutter open and she beamed into an amused grin upon his face.

  "Weren't expecting that?" he asked while his hands slowly circled around her chest as if wanting to massage away the sore muscle there as well.

  "I think it's my turn now," Lana yanked at the collar of his shirt and tried to pull it up. Accepting defeat, Cullen guided his hands out from under her clothes and lifted them in the air. With less grace than she'd like, Lana yanked his tunic off and tossed it towards the rest of his armor. His skin was even warmer than she remembered as she drew her fingers down the knot of his shoulders, across his chest and right towards his belt.

  "Ah..." Cullen caught her fingers and picked them up to place upon his shoulders. Lifting the hem of her shirt an inch he shrugged, "It is only fair."

  Lana smiled and dutifully lifted her arms over her head. She expected him to yank it off, but the man curled down and planted a kiss upon her stomach. He raised the tunic another couple inches and kissed above his last spot, then higher still, pressing his lips against her sternum. Ignoring the obvious distractions on either side of her cleavage, his mouth rose up her sternum until he found her birthmark.

  "I might have known," she snickered. While removing her shirt, Cullen lost himself across her collar, his hands smoothing back the skin of her waist while his lips plied her birthmark. "Maker's breath," she shifted in his grasp, her lower half begging for more attention.

  Taking her hands off his shoulders, Lana grabbed onto the belt again. While she tugged on the loop, his hands rolled over her breasts, the fingers teasing out her nipples and making it very hard for her to remember how the blasted buckles wo
rked.

  "Troubles?" he whispered to her neck.

  "You are no help," she joked, when the belt finally gave way. Lana whipped it out of its loops with such passion, Cullen's exploring fingers paused.

  As she tossed it aside, his honey eyes met her, "Should it concern me how well you wielded that?"

  Re-shifting her weight, Lana smiled down at him, "Depends on what you want me to do with it." Now her fingers were free to slide down his naked stomach and slip underneath his trousers. He tried to meet her delighted eyes but when she circled around the head of his cock almost peeking out of the top, Cullen tossed his head back.

  "Wait, wait..." he called, her fingers slipping away. Cullen kissed her on the lips as he slid out from under her. Rising to his feet, he stepped towards the bed. Lana propped herself up on her hip curious to see what he was up to, and also enjoying the full salute in his trousers. He grabbed onto the fur on the mattress and yanked it off. Returning to Lana's side, Cullen draped it against the stone floor.

  "So we don't damage the bed," he explained, still standing above her.

  Lana eyed the blanket, then turned back up at him and a grin cracked her cheeks, "A bear skin rug, in front of a fireplace? Maker, no one is ever going to believe me." A delightful blush crept up Cullen's cheeks as he realized the cheesiness of his suggestion, but Lana slipped over onto the blanket. With her arms leveraged behind her, she planted her feet in the fur and waved her knees back and forth waiting for him. "Well? This is your plan."

  Cullen steadied his breath gazing down at her, "I suppose it is." A soft smile lit up his face as he fell to his knees. Without any fuss, he slipped off her trousers and got her smallclothes in one quick grab. The coarse and thick bear fur brushed up against Lana's ass and then her back as Cullen dipped her down to the floor. Leaning down on a knee, he reached a leg over to straddle her.

  He drew a few more kisses from her before she pulled a leg forward and snagged her toes on his pants. "How come you're still wearing these?" she complained, trying to tug them off with the power of her feet.

  "Because," he kissed her lips then began to slide down. "This is my plan." Each word was followed by a kiss moving slowly down her body. The 'plan' ended just before her pubic hair. Cullen rested his head upon her body and his hungry eyes gazed up at her.

  Lana squirmed, suspecting she knew what his plan was, "You don't have to, if you don't want to. It's not..."

  Fingers massaged into her sides, careful to follow the swoop of her hips, "I've dreamt of it for a rather long time."

  Trying to not squeak in terrifying anticipation, Lana bit down on her tongue. She spread her knees further apart, giving Cullen ample room to slip down and come face to face with the rest of her. Concerns nibbled through her mind, but they obliterated to dust when his tongue slowly slurped along her inner lips. Sweet merciful Maker! His tongue danced back and forth across every inch of her, lapping her up for dessert. Slipping his hands underneath her butt, Cullen lifted her higher to meet him as he increased the speed of his licking. Gentle gave way to a tenacity that vibrated up from her core down her legs. The back of her throat fell slack, all the pleasure shooting through her body numbing her brain.

  Spurred on by her heavy breathing, Cullen slipped a couple fingers inside of her while his lips sucked upon her clitoris, bringing the shy bit out for attention. Stroking forward with his fingers, he switched between soft sucking and furious licking. Lana felt the concept of time, magic, even her name all slip from her brain as the growing throb pulsing inside of her crowded them all away. Suddenly, Cullen paused, his tongue silencing, his fingers falling slack. Lana bared down upon him, both a whimper and growl in her voice. He only waited another second, but to her it felt an eternity, before sucking one last time upon her. It tipped her off that endless cliff, every inch of her body shaking as the orgasm unleashed upon her. Lana arced her back, digging her head deeper into the rug while the last of her pulsed around his fingers. Her legs involuntarily shot up in the air, knotting around his head. She could feel him chuckling from between her thighs.

  "I take it that's a good sign?" Cullen asked.

  Lana balled up her fists to try and summon back her mental presence, but it seemed to drift a few feet above her, as untouchable as the stars. Nodding, she struggled to sit up when his lips met hers. She could still taste herself upon him, which only pushed her deeper off the cliff. How could she get this wet and not die of dehydration?

  "You, I, um," Lana tried to form a coherent thought, then laughed, shaking her head.

  "Don't worry," he ran his fingers across her chest, then dipped down to gently graze her nipple. "You said we had all night."

  He picked up her limp fingers and guided them to his trousers. Finally, she could yank them off him, though he made it tricky by remaining upon his knees above her. Once freed, Cullen dipped his hips down, his cock skimming across her stomach while he kept kissing her. Maker, the teasing was liable to kill her. She began to reach for him, when he caught her wrist and limply held it between his fingers. A fire burned in Lana's eyes and she threw her hands back over her head.

  "Hold me down," she instructed. Cullen twisted his head, confused. She gestured to her wrists, "Pin my arms down while you're inside of me."

  "Oh." His strong fingers gripped easily around her wrists, and he pressed them down into the ground. A primal ecstasy zapped through her body and she wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to pull him inside of her.

  Cullen kissed her, his cock obstinately remaining a few inches away. He pressed more of his weight down on her wrists, causing her to writhe. Yanking his head to the side, Cullen gulped a breath. Lana blinked, trying to lift her head to see his. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes, of course," he gritted his teeth and dove back for her lips, but there was a different urgency now. She couldn't name it but she felt it flowing through him, his body rigid. Cullen's fingers dug into her wrists and then his whole body shuddered. Not the good kind, but as if his own skin reviled him. "I..." he broke away from her lips, and gasped for more air, "I'm sorry. I can't..." His fingers released from her wrists and he struggled to his feet. Lana let him go, watching as he dashed to the corner and stared out the window slit, his naked back turned to her. Cold seeped into the room that had nothing to do with the dampened fire.

  Maker, what did she do now? Lana sat up, and a rush of blood knocked against her head. She shook it off and struggled to her legs. He stood stock still in the corner, one hand digging into the masonry. Grit rained down off the bricks, the filth scattering into his hair. Muscles across his back tightened from an internal conflict she couldn't understand. Lana wanted to reach out to him, to soothe away the knots twisting around him, but she had no idea what was wrong, what she could have done to him.

  "Cullen..." she began. He didn't shudder from her voice, but his head dropped lower.

  "I shouldn't be, I..." he whispered into the corner, his voice shattered. He sounded like a man who'd fresh walked out of battle, his mind still stricken numb. "I'm sorry. I should be better, be more, but I don't want to..."

  "You don't have to do anything," she assured him, trying to wipe away any hurt in her voice. But she must have not been successful as he spun away from his corner.

  Red circled through his eyes, but there were no tears, only pain gnarling up his face. "Maker, no, it's not you. I... Why must I keep failing at this?" Cullen's head dropped down and he glared at her feet.

  "Talk to me. Explain it, please," her hand glanced across his shoulder. She held her breath, scared of his response, but he leaned into her touch as if he needed it and she gripped tighter.

  "I keep thinking I'm past it, beyond it, but when you..." he sucked back a wobble in his voice and tried again. "When you asked me to, when I held your arms tight I couldn't stop thinking of every other mage I'd helped capture, had to bind, or..."

  Lana smacked her head and cursed herself for being so stupid, "Andraste's ass! This is all my fault. I shouldn't have put that o
n you. I should have thought..."

  He shook his head, either not hearing her, or not wanting to hear her. "I've, the things I've done, they're... I don't want to do it to you. Ever." Twisting his head up from the ground, his eyes raged with an internal fire.

  "I know," Lana's hand caressed his cheek, but he turned away from it.

  "You don't. I don't want you to. How could you look at me if you..." his words faded as he gasped for a breath, his chest shaking from the effort. He whispered to the floor, "You were always more than a mage to me, but--"

  "I've done things too. Things I'm not proud of. Things that haunt me at the most inopportune times," she pleaded with him, but he shook her off again. "Cullen, I shouldn't have asked it of you. Not then, not when... It was brash and stupid. I'm sorry."

  "I try to forget sometimes, when I'm with you. Forget that...that--"

  "That I'm a mage," she said, shrugging her shoulders. She expected it.

  "No," Cullen shook his head, "that I was a templar. That I could have ever hurt you. That I'd even think of..."

  Lana wrapped her arms around his hung head, pulling his face to her cheek. "You're not a templar now," she said, her fingers scurrying around his shoulders, trying to envelop him as far as her reach would allow.

  "It will never leave me. The memories, the bare fact of what I did because I was to arrogant to face my own anger." She didn't know what to say so she stroked his cheek, laying his scruff flat against his face. "There's a void where that anger was, and I fear what may fill it."

  "You're not the monster you make yourself out to be. You weren't even him before Kirkwall fell."

  "Lana..." his slack arms slipped around her back and he pulled his head to her chest for a hug, "I needed you to be special. To be," he snickered, "the good mage. If you were incorruptible then maybe, maybe the others deserved a chance. But even then, even then I almost... Maker, forgive me."

  "I asked you to kill me," Lana said, her own body beginning to shake. She tried to will away the tears stinging in her eyes, the memories of her failure with White tied to fear and shame in equal measure. "And you refused, you had enough faith in me, in mages to not strike me down."