She hoped for him to see common sense, but a new guilt radiated off him. His fingers dug into her skin as he clung to her for sanctuary, for clemency, "No, not then. I nearly killed you before that, for no other reason than you suffering a nightmare. I'm so sorry," he moaned, burying his head deeper into her chest.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, ruffling up the waves as she weighed her words carefully. Lana opened and closed her mouth a few times before she spoke, "I knew."
"You did?" Cullen stood up now, his tears streaked across his cheeks and down her breasts.
"I've spent most of my adult life expecting assassins in any corner. I spotted your hand on a dagger the second I woke. But," she shrugged, "I also thought you'd do the right thing and not cut me down."
"Maker's breath," he shook his head, his fists balled up tight against his. "Assassins? And you thought that I, you knew I'd, and still... Assassins?"
Lana shrugged. "You really think any Banns are going to be happy having a mage above them? Ordering them around? Deciding their laws and enacting justice? The assassins were how I knew I was doing a good job."
She played it off as light hearted until she caught Cullen's eyes as stripped bare as the rest of him. It wasn't pity in them but a depth of fear for her that she kept forgetting to have for herself. Lana swallowed and stumbled back, turning to face away from him. One of the many dams in her brain cracked and her iron will crumbled. Amaranthine was an experiment, one that she'd tried to survive at, tried to do right by, but... Crossing her hands, Lana gripped onto her arms as if she was frozen solid. "I tried, I tried so damn hard to be both Arlessa and Commander. Played the stupid political games, rendered verdicts I thought were fair to the Banns whether they helped me or not. And..."
Throwing out her fist, Lana watched ice spark across it - the frozen water building off each of her fingers until it merged into a point. "I'm...I'm cursed by magic, shunned by the Maker, a sin. They were never going to listen to me, no matter what I did. No matter what I sacrificed. I," she flared up her other fist with fire and melted away the ice spear, "I'm a failure before I even tried."
Hands drifted across her shoulders, at first only grazing against her naked flesh, then the fingers dug in. "Lana..." Cullen's broken voice whispered. A few noises fell from his lips as he tried to find the words. She shook off her fire and gripped onto his fingers while glaring at the snow still melting in the doorway. Her own sins beat against her heart, tearing down every failsafe she put up to keep herself going.
"I-I don't think you're cursed by the Maker," he said.
"You don't know what I've done," her voice was dead, all fight beaten out of it from her own brain.
"You don't know what I've done either," Cullen answered back.
"Amaranthine, I...I let it burn. It was overrun with darkspawn, the blight more virulent than normal. I thought the only hope was to return to the Vigil and take the enemy head on. But," she bit on her lip to stem the tears, a warble slipping into her voice, "returning back to the city I burned, walking through the streets. There was no amount of rebuilding, no coin, no digging in the rubble with my bare hands that could make up for what I did. For what I chose."
Cullen's fingers dug tighter into her, so tight he pinched at an old nerve. Instinctively, she tried to slip away from the pain, which caused him to moan. Lana turned around to find his head dangling as if someone cut the strings. He whispered softly, "I could have stopped the purge of the circle. Before the fighting broke out in the Gallows, I..." He swallowed, his hands hanging limply at his side, "I questioned Meredith, questioned her use of the Rite of Annulment, but I didn't stop her." His fractured eyes broke into hers as his lips breathlessly repeated, "I didn't stop her."
Lana wrapped her arms around him, pulling her head into his chest for a one sided hug. His own stricken arms continued to dangle, as if he couldn't stand the idea to touch her. "It wasn't your fault, it was mine."
"That's not possible," a raw anger drifted into his voice. "You weren't even in Kirkwall when it happened."
"I knew Anders was," she spat. "I never thought he'd...never imagined, but I could have gone for him. Could have drug him back to the Vigil for..." She pulled in a breath and started over, "I told you Nathaniel was the third person I recruited into the Wardens, Anders was the first. Even knowing him from the tower, knowing his proclivity to running at the first chance he had, I hoped, thought with an opportunity he'd-he'd become... Andraste's tears, I am an idiot."
Now Cullen's arms enveloped around her and he pulled her so tight the skin of his chest stuck against hers. There they stood, stark naked with their sins exposed to each other. The question was who would blink first. Who would realize that there was no excusing the choices, no looking past the insurmountable? "I knew of Anders existence, and I was in a better place to stop him than you," Cullen whispered to her shoulder.
"You must hate me," she said. "For all that alone, I..."
"Never," he twisted his head against her, "never."
"We've ignored this for too long, haven't we?" Her fingers dug even tighter to him, rising onto her tiptoes to press her head against his shoulder. "It'll always be there. The...past, the regrets. I--"
Cullen's throat constricted as he swallowed back his own tears, the sound pushing more grief from her. "I've been scared to tell you the truth, certain that you'd never be able to look at me again."
So had she. No one in all of thedas but her knew the full extent of her life, the measures she'd taken to stay alive, to protect those that needed it. No one in all of thedas could ever look at her again if they did, could ever love her. She was certain of it, it burned through her soul like a hot coal. But... Lana slipped back from her tight grip. He let his arms go slack, prepared to let her go forever, but she moved one arm up behind his neck while the other pushed back the curls clinging to his forehead.
"Ask me...ask me what you fear would make you stop caring for me and I'll tell you the truth."
His nostrils flared as he sucked in a steadying breath from her request. The amber eyes danced across her face then back to the floor. It took a few more moments before he opened his mouth. Even then no sound came save a squeak or two until he finally voiced a question, "Have you ever made a deal with a demon?"
"No," Lana shook her head. "Never." Relief blanketed his face, his taciturn lips lifting out of their deep frown. "Have you," Lana shifted on her toes, unable to watch him as she asked what she knew she had to, "taken a mage against their will?"
"Taken a mage?" Cullen repeated her words in confusion, then it dawned upon him what she meant. "No," he shook his head wildly, disgust curling his lip, "Never. That's abhorrent, I'd..."
"I know," she caressed his face, "I hoped anyway, but I had to ask."
His anger abated quickly and he hung his head, "I understand, given...I understand."
They stood like that, wrapped up in each other asking for the answers to their own deal breakers for what felt like hours, both terrified of the answer but needing to know. Needing to find that maybe they could come back from that cliff's edge. After a time, the questions turned a bit less serious. When Lana asked, "Have you ever stolen from the chantry collection?" the dour mood finally broke. Cullen snorted, then tossed his head back in a vehement no. "Really? Not even as a child?"
"I'd have feared the ground would split open and swallow me whole if I even entertained the thought," Cullen admitted. His eyes were still red, probably as red as hers, but a small smile lifted his cheeks. "What about you? Have you ever...taken candy from a baby?"
"Of course not," she chided, gently swatting at his naked chest at the absurdity. "Though," Lana paused in thought, "the qunari traveling with me did once steal cookies from a child."
"A qunari stole cookies?" Cullen twisted his head around, not believing a single word of it.
"It's true, he was mad about them. In fact, if you ever plan on forming an alliance with the Qun tell Josephine to send a batch. I think chocolate chip were his
favorite," Lana remembered back to that giant grey man who questioned if she was a woman but swore a loyalty to her so severe she thought it could only be matched by the mabari. A chuckle rumbled up her stomach from the sight of Sten, stone faced, draped in that pink and yellow sweater Wynne knitted for him. She even took the time to add little decorative swords around the middle. No one said a word about the pompoms.
Out of nowhere, a chill crept along the stones and without a crushing depression to damper every sense in her body, she realized they were both naked while a winter storm raged outside. Cullen caught her shivering. Breaking away from his hug, he leaned down and yanked up the fur blanket. Tossing it around her shoulders, she snuggled into it, then pressed deeper into him.
"We should probably get some sleep," he said staring at the rickety bed. Despite it being his idea, she saw regret stinging in his eyes.
Lana reached down to catch his fingers. Threading hers through his, her thumb rubbed the back of his hand. That brought a small smile back to him. "Don't worry, there's always tomorrow."
"For?"
A sly smile twisted up her cheeks, "For me to even the odds. You're not the only one who's dreamed of me taking you in my mouth." While Cullen's cheeks turned bright red, Lana dragged him to the bed for sleep. For now.
Chapter Sixteen
Morning
"Lana..." She snuggled deeper into the enticing warmth enveloping her body. Light tried to pry open her eyelids but she wasn't having any of it. "Lana..." the voice tried again. Pressure landed somewhere near her hip, but it was cushioned by-
Oh no.
She rolled one eye open, then the other, and glanced up to a not quite amused but not quite peeved Cullen. His hands were wrapped around his naked chest to try and combat the cold seeping into the room. The fire died long ago with no more wood and no mage to stoke it. She tried to reach an arm out to him, but found they were both pinned to her side from the blanket she ensconced herself in over the night. Only her head and a sliver of her shoulders poked free from the fur wrapped around her. "Damn," she whispered and began the excruciating task of twisting her body around the bed to try and free herself from her personal Lana roll.
Cullen grabbed onto the edge, helping to yank sections of the blanket away from her as she rolled. "In listing your sins, you somehow forgot to mention you are a blanket thief," he chuckled.
"Notorious, I'm afraid," she admitted. Her rolling put her on top of the last of the blanket, which Cullen extracted out from under her legs. "Hawke learned to grip onto the edge with a hand. I doubt ogres could pry it free from her, though I've certainly tried." He laid one edge atop his own body, then despite her evil banditry, pushed the rest over her. Cullen slid closer to her, his hands gripping onto her side while his feet, his frozen feet, knotted against her calf.
"Maker's breath!" Lana yelped as the rest of his cold body suckered onto her, "You're freezing."
"That," he smiled, burying his head into her shoulder, "would be your doing."
"I'm sorry," she tried to roll to the side to apologize again, but Cullen clung tighter to her, his head drifting down her chest.
"Well," his lips pressed against her skin with a few kisses, until a cheeky smile lifted them away, "you'll have to make it up to me."
Now her own lips rose in an ornery grin. "Is that so?" She flipped over fast, her knee almost colliding with Cullen's nose. But Lana caught the edge of the creaking bed and pinned him beneath her. Lifting the blanket, she tented it around her shoulders and stared down at him. Most of the morning's light was blocked by her amateur fort, but she could watch his golden eyes - hazy still with sleep - begin to burn. His own hands curled up her hips, his calloused pads kneading against her waist. A tickle bloomed through her skin and she couldn't bite down an undignified snort escaping as a laugh.
"I love that," he sighed, his fingers trying to draw out another one from her. "When you lose all pretense, all control, you give this small noise from your nose. It's a bit like a pig rutting for dinner."
"I do not," she cried indignant, and gently swiped at his chest. "Heroes do not make pig noises!" Her lips twisted across her face as she tried to keep back the smile. This was serious, very serious.
"Very well," Cullen gave in to her soft pawing across his pecs. "Heroes may not make rutting noises, but..." He sat up and locked his arms around her back, tugging her down to the bed. That same cursed grunt escaped from her lips along with a shocked laugh as she crashed on top of him. It had to hurt taking all her weight, but Cullen only trailed his lips across her nose and down to her lips. Her hands were trapped between their chests, but she gave in to his pull, her body practically melting in his grip.
Coming up for air, he smiled at her and finished his thought, "But I know one beautiful mage with a deadly fire in her belly who does."
"I should argue with you," she shook her head. It didn't take much of their rolling around to catch all of his body's attention, the staff rising higher as his hands drifted down her back and caressed across her backside.
"But you won't, because you know it's true," he smirked, planting a few more kisses on her, "All of it."
"Maker's breath, I thought you were the serious one," she laughed.
A hungry growl reverberated from his gut, the primal need driving her own lust wide awake. His eyes glittered in the light as his fingers drifted lower, squeezing each of her cheeks. "I am."
Lana kissed him with enough fervor to relight the fireplace, her body squirming on top of his. She managed to wiggle one hand out of the trap and run her fingers up and down the side of his chest. Slipping into the divot between each of his ribs caused Cullen to sigh in the back of his throat. But what she really wanted was to...
Cracking broke from outside the door. Lana's tongue paused and she lifted her head up. If she shut her eyes she could almost hear what sounded like a voice on the wind whispering beyond the snow trap. Then, at the same time, both mage and templar tasted the mana dumped into the world. She didn't know if Cullen could spot it, but she smelled the tell tale ember of fire cast from the fade. "It seems we've been rescued," she sighed, not rising off him.
"Perhaps they're clearing the last of the snow off and will pass on by," he threw out hopeful. He wrapped his arms tight around her back, holding her deeper into the bed as they both held a breath. Maybe if they were lucky, they'd still have a chance to...
A fist knocked against the door, "Hello? Lana?"
Shit, it was Leliana. Now Lana leaped off Cullen, leaving the poor naked man exposed, but he looked as stricken as her while both searched for wherever they left their clothing. Leliana continued, her voice cheery, "We recieved a report that you were locked in here during the storm. Are you awake? The door appears to be jammed."
"What should..." Cullen began but Lana shot him a warning look. She knew Leliana had ears that could hear through stone walls.
"Ah, I'm in here, but...give me a minute," Lana scooped up the first pair of trousers she found, knotted the drawstring, and wiggled into her tunic. With her foot, she shoved the rest of the shed clothing behind the bed away from the view of the Spymaster. Cullen stood frozen, still naked and uncertain what to do. Lana waved him to flatten against the wall, if she only opened the door an inch or two Leliana wouldn't see him. It was her best hope short of stuffing him up the chimney. He grabbed onto the blanket and wrapped it around his hips, then shrunk beside the wall.
Lana tried to lift the latch from the inside, but it wouldn't budge. Then she spotted the lock that must have fallen into place. Willing down the flush along her cheeks and the guilt etched into her eyes, Lana threw back the door. Bright blue skies greeted her, any sign of the storm's rage long obliterated. Leliana's red hair flamed in the late morning light.
"Sorry about that," Lana said, "the lock must have slid into place and...thank you for finding me."
"For Andraste's sake, how did you wind up trapped in here?" her friend smiled wide, her eyes only able to see Lana through the slit of the d
oor. This might actually work.
"I was moving along the battlements, helping to thaw rooms when snow fell off the roof. I'd have been buried if I hadn't have ducked into this room," Lana smiled widely, her body nonchalant, then her eyes wandered behind her where two pairs of boots leaned into each other. Shit!
"Good timing. You keep ahold of that old luck after all," Leliana smiled at her, her fingers pressing into the door.
Lana held it tight and slipped her foot behind it, "What was the damage?"
"Minimal, thankfully. A few torn roofs, some lost chickens. And we've most of everyone accounted for..." Leliana's words faded away as she rose up on her feet. No matter how tall Lana tried to stand, she couldn't block the Spymaster's view. The woman trained in the art of the game was now looking over the disheveled room that held an unexplainable sword and scabbard, as well as a breastplate tossed near the hearth. Her easy smile slipped away and Leliana pushed on the door. Lana slid her foot away, but still tried to halt the Spymaster's steps inside.
"That's good, to not lose anyone and..." Her head collapsed as Leliana paused in the room and eyed up Cullen struggling to rise as dignified as possible while wearing a tattered bear fur knotted around his waist.
"Commander," Leliana's voice was unreadable.
"Spymaster," he said back, his words steady but a blush charred up his chest. His naked chest. This was not going to go well.
"I see we don't need to bother tracking you down then. That is good," Leliana said. Her cold eyes hunted across the room, drawing her own quick conclusions of what happened during the storm. When she turned back to Lana, she only shut her eyes and softly rolled them. "When you are...when you've finished in here, we have a few matters to discuss prior to your mission."
"Uh, right, of course," Lana pawed at her forehead, either trying to knock her hair out of the way or pull it forward to obscure her face.
My Love Page 36
