Chapter Text
Cullen has never told a woman he loves them before.
Since his realization of his feelings for Ellyrianna, he is beside himself wondering how he should approach it. Should he wait for her to say it first? Should he make some grand gesture? Why is all of this so difficult? He knows for sure that when all of this is over, he wants her by his side. He wants to spend this life and the next making her as happy as she is making him.
Everytime he sees her, he feels his emotions bubbling up inside of him. He wants to stand on the roof of Skyhold and shout it to the heavens. He, Cullen Rutherford, is madly and overwhelmingly in love with the most incredible, beautiful woman in all of Thedas.
And Maker, but she is beautiful. Both inside and out. He adores every inch of her, there is not one feature that doesn't call to him. A few nobles have made passing comments on how her "elvishness" makes her less desirable. He has to restrain himself from knocking their teeth down their throats.
He can feel himself flushing as he thinks of her, staring out his window in his office. There is another thing he's been thinking of lately, besides confessing his love. His growing affections have brought on something else entirely, something he has not felt in a long time.
Desire.
Maker, but how he wants her. Wants to feel her soft skin under his hands and lips, wants to feel that lithe figure pressed against his. Wants to worship her body with his completely, touching and tasting every inch. Wants to have her come apart in his arms, cries of his name leaving those plump pink lips.
There has not been time to discuss a more physical relationship. He wishes now that wasn't the case. He feels like he may come unhinged at any moment. And he does not know how to approach her about it.
A knock at his door breaks his thoughts. Right, there is still work to be done. He pushes down his lustful feelings and bids the knocker enter.
It's some of his troops, and he ends up spending the better part of an hour reading reports and issuing instructions. It's enough to get his mind off her until....
Until he looks up from a map and sees her leaning against the wall by the door, casual as can be. His brain stutters. He didn't even hear her come in. His troops are suddenly a hindrance, and he wants them out now. He ushers the lot of them out quickly, hurrying forward to shut the door behind them. As he does, he cannot help but lean against it and let out a sigh.
"There's always something more," he says, more to himself than anything.
"Wishing we were somewhere else?" Her lilting voice has a teasing tone to it.
He lets out a quick laugh and shakes his head at her. "I barely found time to get away before."
He sees her fiddle fondly with the coin tied around her supple wrist, and he feels a strong rush of affection. He paces to the center of the room, his feelings suddenly weighing extra heavy upon him. I must speak now, he thinks out of nowhere. I cannot hold back any longer.
"This war won't last forever," he starts. "When it started, I didn't think much beyond our survival." He pauses to gauge her reaction. So far, she is listening to him with a curious look on her pretty face. He takes a breath.
"But things are different now," he continues quietly, watching her as she takes a tentative few steps closer. "When this is all over, I won't want to move on, not from you."
He brings a hand up to trace her vallaslin lovingly. There. He's said it. He's told her he wants her by his side. It isn't a full confession, but he knows it's a step in the right direction.
She isn't responding, however, and he begins to grow unsure. Perhaps it is too soon? Did he speak out of line? He turns away from her, muttering about "not knowing" what she wants, a lump rising in his throat. He is such a fool.
But then she squeezes herself between him and his desk, and she's looking at him like he is the only man on this green earth. His heart skips hopefully.
"Cullen," she says softly, "do you even have to ask?"
He feels then like he could fly, his heart swelling almost painfully in his chest. Maker, she is not going anywhere. After everything is said and done, she wants to stay with him. He lets relief wash over him in waves. He is the luckiest man in Thedas.
"No," he breathes out, the urge to kiss those perfect pink lips tearing through him. "No, perhaps not."
He leans in, the air between them crackling with anticipation. His mouth is practically watering, her sweet mouth is so close, The mood is swiftly altered, however, when she shifts position and sends a bottle crashing off his desk onto the floor.
He feels something hot and foreign curl tight in his chest. The image of her spread out across the sleek mahogany surface, bottles and papers scattered around her, slips into his mind. His chest curls tighter, and without thinking, he sweeps everything else onto off the desk and onto the floor.
It's the right call.
She grabs his pauldrons and yanks him towards her, lips smashing together. He kisses her with everything he has, hands pushing her clumsily back onto the desk. Maker, he needs her underneath him. Now. She goes willingly, and his climbs on top of her, never breaking the smouldering kiss they are sharing.
Sweet Maker, he is burning. It's too much, the taste of her lips, the heat of her body pressed tight against his, the softness of her curves underneath his hands. He instinctively pushes his hips against her own, and has to bite back a moan at the exquisite feeling. His moves his mouth from hers to her neck, desperate to taste her skin. It's soft and salty under his tongue, and he mouths at her like a man starving for his last meal. He cannot get enough.
"Cullen," she gasps out as he sucks behind her ear, and the breathy whine in her voice sends a bolt of pleasure straight south. "Oh Cullen!"
He lets out a loud groan, the building pressure in his breeches growing unbearable. "Maker, Ellyrianna. I want you."
He licks her ear, and she gasps again. "Cullen, I want you too. So badly. Bed?"
He doesn't think he'll make it to the bed. He's so aflame with desire, with want and need, he thinks he might burst. He lets her know with a growl, his teeth scraping lightly over her pulse.
She reaches up and grabs at his face then, pulling him away from her neck so he's looking right at her. She looks delicious, all flushed and shaking with kiss stung lips.
She puts her mouth to his ear, breathe hot and voice sultry. "Take me to your bed, ma vhenan, and then I am all yours. Completely."
He can't get up to his quarters fast enough. They are barely in the room before he's pushing her onto his bed, the need to have her thundering so loudly through his veins he's sure the whole keep can hear it.
They undress each other without any shame, only tender touches and loving kisses. He is completely drunk on her. The way her skin slides like silk against his, the way her tiny hands explore him, the way she feels in his arms. He worships every inch of her body, telling her she is beautiful over and over again. They get lost in their passion, learning each other in a way that makes them both ache in the best way possible.
When he finally buries himself inside her, he nearly loses it. She is so warm, so good, so perfect that he wants to cry with the joy of it. They cling together, moving as though they were two puzzle pieces finally finding where they belong. Nothing else matters, just him and her and this wonderful heat between them.
He nears his end quicker than he wants to. He presses his face into her skin, eyes shut tight as he fights to hold back.
"Ellyrianna," he moans. "I can't...I'm going to..."
She rakes her nails down his back, causing a shudder to run it's way down his spine. "Let go, Cullen," she sighs. "Oh ma vhenan, I'm right there with you."
He comes at her words, crying out as everything explodes in a whirlwind of white hot pleasure that nearly makes his eyes roll back in his skull. She finishes not long after, sobbing out his name amidst what he assumes are Elvhen curses. Wave after wave of his end crashes over him as they finish their highs together, his entire body signing in compete and utter bliss.
He doesn't let her go after, he can't bear the thought of separating. Instead, he gathers her into his arms and nestles her against him. He feels happy and sated, and he can't help the smile that crosses his features as he lets his fingers trace over her vallaslin lovingly.
"Maker, that was incredible," he sighs. "You are incredible. I've never felt anything like this."
She smiles back at him, placing her hands against his chest. "Neither have I."
I must tell her now, he suddenly thinks. I must tell her I love her. This is the moment. He steels his nerves.
"Ellyrianna," he says lowly, "I think I love you."
Immeaditly he can see her eyes become glassy. He begins to worry he has upset her, that he shouldn't be bringing something so deep up right after lovemaking.
But then her face creases into a smile, one so bright and beautiful it takes the breath right out of him.
"Oh ma vhenan," he can hear a quiver in her voice, "I love you too."
Joy like he's never known before sweeps through him like a gale force wind. He smiles back at her, happy laughter bubbling to his lips. He grabs her face and presses kisses all over it, repeating those amazing three words over and over again. She laughs with him, and he feels like he could take on the entire enemy army alone.
She loves him. This amazing, beautiful, strong woman loves him. Thank you Maker, he thinks. Thank you Maker for allowing a lost and lonely man to find what many only dream of. He is hers, and she is his. Whatever comes, that will not change. He has found the piece of his heart he did not even realize was missing.
He smiles against her skin.
He has come home.