#fuzzles and champ: haven

[mapplestrudel]

Scenes From Haven: Stars

A/N: @princess-underthemountain asked for 34. “These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes” from the Writing Prompts For Days, thank you very much, dear Miss Ladybug! :)

So here is some pre-romance fluff for Cullen and Rona at Haven, also available at the AO3.

Tagging the Rona Cheering Squad @element-104, @gwen-cousland, @john-cousland ^_^

Also tagging @ladydracarysao3 because, I don’t know, maybe you’re interested what became of that first line from the First Line Game the other day?

If anybody wants to make another prompt for these two, please go ahead, but be aware that it’ll take ages… ;)

It’s a clear night. Stars and moons are out and throw a silver light on mountains, roofs and trees, while the day’s bustle at Haven has already faded into song and laughter at The Singing Maiden.

Rona and Cullen sit in front of the hut she shares with the head of the Mail Office, Lyssan, as they have done before during the last few days. In front of them a brazier burns and brings light and warmth into the night and to their feet; behind them a few lanterns are hung up for some more light as well.

While Rona is invested in a book on her lap, Cullen has a small stash of reports on his left side which he reads and notes and meticulously puts to his right side once finished. Occasionally he looks over to Mira who lies on her blanket to their feet and chews happily at the ram bone he gave her when he arrived, and she wags her tail each time they share a glance.

It’s a relaxed companionable silence they’ve found to still fall easily into, even after all those years. Of course, there are things unsaid, stories untold, hurts unhealed, but for now, these perch above them, not between them.

Suddenly Rona snorts and starts laughing, and fine lines fold themselves into the corners of her eyes.

Cullen jerks up and almost throws away the parchment in his hands at the sudden outburst. “Maker’s Breath, Fuzzles! What is it?”

“Listen to that!” she giggles and tries to compose herself, unsuccessfully at first, but at last she straightens her back, takes a deep breath in and with serious face and dramatic voice quotes from the book she now holds delicately in her hand with extended pinkie.

“Slowly, he stepped closer, his steel blue eyes fixed on her soft brown ones. Reaching out he dipped her chin a little higher with his finger so he could catch her gaze. ‘These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes,’ he whispered in a hot breath against her lips, and she forgot how to breathe.”

Ending with her hand thrown at her forehead and her eyes rolled up, Rona stays in pose for a few moments, cocking an eyebrow at Cullen, but he just deadpans and slightly shakes his head: “So? What’s so funny about it?”

She slumps from her pose and huffs indignantly at the obvious ignorance from her friend.

“So? Champ! Nobody talks like this! And who would fall for it anyways? It’s all cheesy and silly and worn-out and…”

Cullen raises an eyebrow at her.

“What?" She laughs. "It’s true! - ”

He smirks, eyes glinting mischievously, and scoots closer on the bench.

“Is that so?” he chuckles and reaches out to lift her chin, catching her stare with his. With conviction he repeats, in a low pitched dramatic timbre:

“These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.”

There’s a short breathless moment when she drowns in amber and he’s swept away by the storm, but then he smirks and she cocks an eyebrow and they both roar out in laughter that makes the bench shake and Mira sit up in attention, regarding them with a little confused whine.

“You are right,” he says, as the tide ebbs into an occasional chuckle, “this is ridiculous!” “See?” “But I almost had you!” “Nooo,” Rona stems her arms to the hips. “No you didn’t!” “Did too! Your chin dropped!” “Yeah, because I was about to sneeze!” “Riiiight!” he drawls, mirth dancing in his eyes.

At that she forces a sneeze out and sticks her tongue out at him.

Still chuckling, Cullen gets up and starts to gather his papers that scattered on the ground at their outburst. He picks up a page and muses quietly, more to himself:

“You’ve got no stars in your eyes. They’re more like… hmm,“ he takes a moment to think, looking into the night, then picks up another page, “... like the distilled essence of a summer storm.” Another page. “Brewing clouds in the back” -  another page - “deep thunder above, and” - he walks a few steps and picks up another page - “and sharp flashes whipping through the air. You know” - his eyes sweep the ground in search of more pages - “like the showers we used to get caught in, back at home in…” He sighs and shakes his head, but then a small smile sneaks into his face. “Your eyes almost make me smell the wet grass and feel the mossy bark of the old oak…They’re are quite remarkable, really.” He picks the last astray sheets, and turns around, still focussed on his parchments.

Rona meanwhile sits there with open mouth and wide eyes, book forgotten in her lap. She squints then, cocking her head to the side, and silently mouths: “Wha-?”

But he’s oblivious of her stare as he scans through the pages in his hand, checking if none is missing. Finally he sighs, and pops his shoulders. “It’s late. I’ll better let you go to sleep. Training tomorrow?”

She blinks, as if awaking from deep slumber and clears her suddenly dry throat.

“Uhm… yes! Yes of course! Someone has to teach them properly how not to hurt themselves with the pointy things in their hands!” She winks at him and he does this neck kneading of his she’s been wondering about since she noticed.

“Ha, right! I really appreciate your input, though! It’s good to have them learn how to stand against different fighting styles…. The Inquisition could really use your skills and talents.” A hopeful gleam shines from his eyes, but maybe it was only a flicker of the brazier.

“As does the RFMS. But I’m here for a few more days. They better get the basics right until I leave.”

He nods. “See you tomorrow then. Good night, Fuzzles.”

He leaves, and she stays sitting on the bench, listening to the fading crunch of his steps. Her ears are red and burning, her nose tingling and her whole body feels as light as a feather. Maybe she’s about to get a cold? She scratches her head, unconvinced. Mira merely cocks an eyebrow, huffs and throws a paw above her eyes.

Rona nods, and yawns.

"Exactly."