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marabrosca · 3 years ago

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[REUPLOAD] - What You Seek Will Find You (Cullen x Lavellan)

a commission for @cullenvhenan with her OC immy

words: 3k

summary: Cullen reflects on his heart's desires, and comes to the one thing he wants the most. (Cullen’s pov fic and his falling in love with Imryll Lavellan)

tags: pining, soft, romance, kissing

warning: contains mentions of racism/colorism but is never directly said to any poc

Read it on AO3

It was uncomfortable to see a chantry half full, Cullen decided. He couldn’t remember a time where he and his family would attend a sermon, and be joined by only a dozen people. The chantry in his youth accommodated with every seat and then some, as many late arrivals would continue to listen to the Revered Mother’s litany whilst standing in the back by the front door. Having the room be so scarce, having so many pews be empty, made the ceremony feel far more serious and intimidating than intended.

It was here that Cullen would be fulfilling his dream of joining the Templar Order, taking his vows and swearing to protect Thedas at the behest of the Andraste Herself. He peered over at the towering statue of the prophet, Her pyre burning brightly but expanding no more light into the room than a few candles. He felt himself shrink into his armor, picking nervously at his embroidered skirt as Andraste’s stone eyes bore into him. It was a dull service he had to admit. A withered old chantry Sister recited the Chant Of Light in an almost monotone voice, pausing every few lines to include the sacred blessings given to those joining the Order.

Cullen had practiced his vows more times than he could count. There were formal promises to make, but they came strictly with a list. When he had been given the list, the scroll lay heavy in his hands. The gold ribbon around it had made it seem as resplendent as the Chantry’s interior, and no less important than the impression it made. Each Templar was to choose their own vows, their own honest promises to the Maker.

Everyone is different, and we are all here for different reasons. But now we join as one, and must do what is expected of us. Therefore, it is the responsibility of one who chooses to walk the path of sacrifice, to pave the road they walk on.

It was something that was repeated to him in the upcoming weeks of the ceremony. There were many ways, as it turned out, to prove one’s faithfulness to the Maker. There was fasting, sacrificing of material goods (not that Templars had many personal items to begin with), excessive prayer, public preaching, and at least ten other things that Cullen could remember. There was only one that gave him pause: chastity, and the detachment to romantic relations, even within marriage. Cullen felt weak for admitting it, but the idea of a future in solitude wasn’t exactly appealing. Not that it was supposed to be. The idea was that a Templar-to-be would set aside personal desire and focus solely on duty, devoting themselves entirely to their service.

But Cullen saw no reason why he couldn’t do both. A part of him, a part he hid from others, was enamored with the idea of marriage. He’d caught himself many times dreaming of the day his soul-mate would enter his life, accepting the promise to live in each other’s hearts. It was indulgent and juvenile, but he wondered if perhaps one day he’d be in chantry taking entirely different vows than the ones he would proclaim that day. As far as Cullen could see, there were no obstacles in finding someone who was Andrastian. They’d have to be, wouldn’t they? Followers of the chantry and the Maker filled every space in Ferelden, and certainly he wouldn’t be traveling far from Kinloch Hold after the ceremony. Frankly, there was no reason to worry.

The young man heard his name and he stood, almost too quickly, and shuffled out of the pew, making his way to the Revered Mother. She looked at him with a kind smile, and he bowed his head in response. The woman’s hand hovered above him, pausing.

“Have you prepared your promises to the Maker, accepting His blessing as a holy child and servant of Andraste?” “Yes.” He replied firmly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Decades had passed since that day, disappearing like a dream interrupted by daylight. At no point would Cullen expect anything he had experienced, or where he was now. Snow crunched under his boots as he surveyed twenty new recruits to the Inquisitor’s forces- the DalishInquisitor – yet they served just as devout to the chantry as he had once been. An uncomfortable, heavy force weighed on him at the thought; a reminder of his skewed mind from the past. It was a part of him he didn’t want to forget, so that he would never become that man again. He didn’t, however, want it to swallow him whole. That part was harder.

Two of the newest recruits, George and Elliott, were sent to fetch a requisition officer that had been surveying the Storm Coast for some time. The men seemed eager, and promising, and gave off an air of charisma that delivered a boost in morale. Soon enough they returned with the aforementioned officer. She was a tall, lanky elf with pale skin and large, striking emerald eyes. Her black hair fell to her mid-back, lips pink and puffy in the cold. Cullen greeted her politely, taking the missives from her hands as she smiled pleasantly at him. The officer followed Cullen to the desk planked beside the staircase extending from the ramparts. He didn’t miss the almost pungent smell of perfume on her, but made no comment. The commander settled the forms into a neat pile, getting ready to turn to his scouts, when he looked up and noticed that she was still standing there. He cleared his throat when she did not have anything to say. “Thank you, Deanna, for going out of your way.”

“No problem at all, Commander.” The elf smiled at him, folding her hands behind her back.

“Ah…was there something else you needed?” Deanna twirled a finger through a lock of hair, her cheeks turning pinker than before.

“Actually, I was wondering if you were busy tonight.” She replied, eyeing the desk quickly before settling her sights on his face. George and Elliott watched the sight, impressed with their Commander’s obliviousness to her body language.

“As it happens, I am very busy tonight,” Cullen answered, turning and handing the papers over to a scout without pause. “There is still much work to be done if Skyhold is to ever be inhabitable. And I fear the most difficult challenges are yet to come. Why? Does something require my attention?” Deanna’s smile sunk to her knees with her shoulders following suit. “Um, no, it was nothing. Thank for your time, Commander.” “And you, as well.” Cullen responded with a nod, watching the elf turn and make her way up the stairs.

As busy as the ex-Templar seemed to be, he had set some time aside that evening to have a walk down the ramparts with Inquisitor Imryll. Soon the easy stride had turned to a pause, then to a conversation, then to a kiss. It was clearly unplanned and unexpected- quite the opposite of how Cullen had always carried himself- but there was no doubt in the way Imryll held onto his back and caressed his hair, that she didn’t object to it.

Gossip spread like the Blight within Skyhold regarding the Inquisitor’s supposed “dalliance” with the Commander. A couple of messengers and guards that had been making their way by wasted no time sharing the tale of what they had witnessed, or exaggerating it.

“It was a sweep of passion! He grabbed her and they nearly dipped as if they were dancing!” “I wasn’t that close, so I couldn’t really tell, but Ser Rutherford appeared very harsh with our Lady Inquisitor. Do you think he treats all his women that way?” “She hypnotized him with blood magic, I swear!” The only things the tales had in common was that a kiss was involved, anything else could not be answered, much to the disappointment of the staff who were almost growing bored of the mundane. When the news reached Elliott, he was quick to share what he heard over a drink on the grass with George, who turned his nose up in disgust. “See that, I just don’t get.” “What’s not to get? You don’t know what a kiss is? Do you revolt women that much?” “No, smartass.” George took a swig from his flask before continuing. “I don’t get how someone would, ya know, go for an elf. Does he seem like the type? And that elf on top of it- what’s next, a Qunari?”

Elliott let out a cackling laugh, almost catching his lip between his browning teeth. “Not your type, eh?” “Not anybody’s type.” George tried to adjust himself on the ground, reaffirming his seat in the same spot once the dizziness ceased his actions. “At least you got- at least you got some lookers here, right? Like that one from before…that, uh, Deanna. Them ones with the big eyes and the curves and all- and have you ever seen an elf that was so dark?” “Not before the Inquisitor. Her eyes are black, did you notice? Do you think she’s blind?” “I thought all elves were ivory and lanky and- where did she even come from?” “Somewhere up north.” “Up north, bah.” George, not heeding the warning his body gave him before, took another large gulp. “If you asked me, I’d kiss an ogre any day before I’d even think about kissin’ her. She wouldn’t-”

Before he could finish his ramblings, a pair of hands grabbed them both from behind, lifting them by the collars and onto their feet. George almost vomited, feeling the searing burn shoot up his throat at the assault. Both men turned sharply to be met with the fiery eyes of their Commander. The men could feel their faces turn numb and a pulse beat in the back of their skulls. Elliott dropped his mug without thinking, licking his lips in an attempt to speak.

“Commander-”

“I don’t want to hear another word.” “But-” “Not. One. Word.” Cullen’s teeth stuck out starkly against his reddening face.

The recruits gulped, bugged-eyed as George swayed slightly from the alcohol. Cullen’s gaze locked onto the mug spilling yellow liquid onto the grass. “I see that your night of leisure has given you loose tongues.”

Cullen pondered what kind of punishment should bestow them. Perhaps they were to be bound and brought to the Inquisitor on her throne, and beg at her feet for mercy after confessing their crimes? The idea was enticing, but it was likely the display would embarrass Imryll, and he needn’t put more on her shoulders regarding her reputation. Besides, she hadn’t heard the words herself, so why hurt her feelings? No, that simply wouldn’t do. They needed to learn a lesson…a long-term lesson. Without warning Cullen grabbed them by the collar again and pushed them both face-first into the dirt. “You will clean this mess, and then pack your things. At dawn, you will be deployed to the Hissing Wastes, where you will remain until the hole in the sky is welded shut.” The Hissing Wastes was the most miserable landscape in Thedas Imryll had ventured to that he could think of. It was a constant scorching mass of dry air and sand, flipping the coin completely when all was frozen over at night. Only the most hardened travelers could tolerate its climate. It was a long-lasting punishment for a crime that could permanently scar having landed in Imryll’s ears.

Without another word Cullen turned on his heel and walked back to the fortress, ignoring the groaning coming from behind him. As he moved out of sight, Elliott wobbled down to pick his mug off the ground, and George let go of all the liquid courage in his stomach that had sealed their fates.

Days had passed since the new blood of the Inquisition seemingly vanished overnight, but Cullen’s hands still upturned into fists at the memory. He hadn’t been there when they were carted off, but it was reported right before that they wished to beg forgiveness. Cullen dismissed the messenger with a wave of his hand and went back to his business like he was the only one in the room. He scowled, eyeing the ground with intensity as not to scream, a look that caught the eye of the curly-haired elf standing across from him. She walked up to him before he could react, kissing the knot between his eyebrows. All at once he melted, tense muscles going loose for a brief moment as he looked up. Her smile was concerned, and he felt his face relaxing as not to worry her further. “Are you alright?” she asked, grazing the back of her fingers along the side of his face, leaving goose bumps in her wake.

“Yes…I’m fine.” He let out a breath, willing himself to calm down. His hand reached up to grasp hers, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. It made them both blush, and Imryll’s fingers curled in his grasp.

“I had been wondering this for a while,” she started, not pulling away from his hold.

“That day you kissed me on the battlements…how long had you wanted to do that?”

Cullen couldn’t help but let out a laugh, smiling despite the heat in his cheeks. Her tone wasn’t mischievous, merely curious. A part of him advised against telling her; it was unprofessional at the very least to admit that he had wanted his lips on hers not too long after meeting, before Skyhold, even. Despite not being the best of friends at the time, Cullen found himself gravitating towards her, and desired her approval for more than just reasons regarding their duty.

He smiled sheepishly before finally answering her query.

“Longer than I should admit.”

Springtime scarcely differed from winter when it came to living on a mountain. Everyone still wore furs up to their noses and the courtyard was rarely full. Merchant deliverers unloaded their cargo as quickly as they could before ducking into the tavern. Orlesian noblewomen paraded their flower-adorned shifts about, calling attention to their “eye to detail”, modeling their appearance after the Skyhold garden. This, in reality, was meant to turn attention away from their unseemly reddening noses each time they needed to lift their mask and cough into a handkerchief.

Despite this -and despite her own hatred for the cold- Imryll could still be found tending to her plants- the ones that would survive the elements. She frowned as she lifted a limp stem with her finger, disappointed she wouldn’t be able to expand her alchemy skills just yet. Vivienne had warned her it was too early to start studying potions that required foliage, but in an effort to impress her, Imryll had tried it anyway. And now she was thinking of a way to dispose of the dead roots without embarrassing herself.

The sound of familiar footsteps behind her turned her attention away from the frozen soil, lifting her mood in an instant. “There you are. I was worried you’d still be out here.” Cullen sighed.

“Oh, yes. I was seeing how things were going,” she replied, gesturing to the frozen soil “Don’t tell Vivienne.” Cullen chuckled and removed his cloak, draping it over her shoulders.

“You’ll catch cold out here.” His touched his forehead with hers, watching as she scrunched her nose at the tickle of the wind.

“Walk me back?” Imryll guided them the long way around, entwining her arm with Cullen’s. Halfway there her legs had “gone completely numb from the cold”, and their only solution was to duck into an archway that housed a small stone bench. The elf laid her cheek on the part of his armor still covered by cloth, and sighed as his fingers glided down her arm.

“Feeling better?” “Not yet,” she replied, moving ever closer into his arms. Cullen held her tighter, making the Inquisitor smile. Her soft, round cheek was squished up against his chest, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. The atmosphere was too serene to believe. The moon now overshadowed the sun, leaving the walkway empty aside from them. Imryll gazed out at the greenery that still grew around them. But Cullen’s eyes were transfixed on her. In these escaping moments of peace, he found himself wondering what he would do in the future. If she survived- when she survived the impending battle with Corypheus- what would he do? He had been only a child the last time he lead a normal life, even though nothing for him would be truly normal again. Would she go with him? Would she go back to her clan? His stomach coiled at the thought, as selfish as it was. He wouldn’t blame her for returning to her people when this was all over, but surly he could not join her. The Dalish didn’t welcome humans as passersby, let alone a human lover. What if she left him? Did she not feel as strongly about their relationship as he did? Would she have to choose?

And more importantly, how would he declare the choice he’s made?

He couldn’t imagine a life without her. Despite the hardships and horrors he’s endured, having Imryll walk out of his life would be the breaking point. His gaze solemnly drifted to the bare blackness of the sky, subconsciously tightening his grip on Imryll.

“Cullen? Is something wrong?” she asked, lifting her head.

“Oh- I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” “No…” the Inquisitor waited for an answer to her question.

“I think we should go back inside. I’m sure you’d be far more comfortable with warm tea in your bed, wouldn’t you say?” Imryll perked up at the thought and reluctantly sat up to stretch.

“Will you be joining me?” Imryll asked over her shoulder, half flirtatiously. “If my lady wishes so.” Cullen responded, chuckling and standing to join her on the walk back to her quarters.

“I do. But is that what you want?”

What I want… Without warning the commander hoisted her up into his arms, leaning his head down to kiss her lips. She let out a yelp before laughing, slapping lightly at his chest as he carried her through the garden. Wind brushed roughly against the pathway flowers, sending a few white petals into the air, catching onto Imryll’s curls. Their white littered the stone, creating an almost snowy effect as he walked. They went unnoticed by Imryll, who was too distracted reaching up to playfully peck at her lover’s chin.

What he wanted…

He knew now more than ever.

Imryll had taken some time to teach Cullen threads of Dalish before, but nothing like this.

“Sylaise enaste var aravel…”

The sound of her native tongue caressed his ears. Everything in that moment disappeared except for her; and although he couldn’t understand the words, he felt them in his heart. He wanted her promise to be true, and he trusted that it was.

“I swear unto the Maker and The Holy Andraste to love this woman the rest of my days.”

As the words left his lips, they connected with hers. Perhaps he should have waited until Mother Giselle made the official decree, but he couldn’t wait another moment.

The kiss ended with the faint tickle of Cullen’s breath against her lips. His nose stayed atop hers, soft chestnut eyes barely open beneath his lashes. It was their first kiss as a married couple, a term they could barely comprehend. Cullen sighed blissfully, capturing the moment in his mind down to every detail as the setting sun painted them in golden light, as if the world turned just for them. Imryll’s skin blended with the rays. Her eyes reflected, but were not illuminated by the shine, creating a stark clear surrounding of white around the onyx that seduced him so many times.

Imryll took but a single step before she was whisked off her feet. A surprised yelp quickly turned to giggles as her husband hoisted her into his arms in a true bridal-fashion. Mushy bounced excitedly at Cullen’s feet and wagged his tail, attempting to angle himself so that he could leap up to join Imryll.

“Blasted-get down! I can’t hold the both of you.”

Imryll laughed joyously, taking her lover’s face into her hands.

“How long have you wanted to do that?”

Cullen smiled down at her.

“Longer than I should admit.”

#cullen x lavellan #cullen rutherford #cullen x imryll #my fics #asian inquisitor #asian lavellan #reupload #i think the original post is still up on ela's blog but the search bar is trash :T #dai #Imryll Lavellan

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jewishzevran · 5 years ago

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this heart is starting to come to life

So earlier this week, @cullenvhenan posted this about her inquisitor immy lavellan and cullen in a modern au setting, and i couldn’t stop my little goblin hands from writing it. i had to keep putting my head on my desk and take deep breaths because they love each other so much and they just don’t realise yet buhuhu ;____;

Cullen groaned, and dropped his head against his steering wheel, wishing the ground had swallowed him up on the walk from the restaurant to his car.

What a fucking disaster.

She had been nice. She was pretty. She was interested in his hobbies, and had been respectful about avoiding the topic of war. Yet, by the end of the meal, he somehow felt even lonelier than when he had sat down. It had been two years since he had left Eliza and that whole Maker-forsaken mess behind, but she was still finding ways to ruin his night.

He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. At least he had a couple of days off.

The drive back to the apartment block was, thankfully, uneventful, and he pulled into his usual space feeling marginally less shit than he had done 15 minutes prior. Nodding to the security guard at the door, he checked the mail and then headed up the stairs. He'd go for a run with Mushy to clear his head, and hopefully tire himself out enough that he didn't spend six hours staring at the ceiling.

There was no familiar barking or tail wagging at the door when he stepped inside, and he frowned for a moment, wondering where Mushy had got to before he heard whining and sniffling from the lounge. Cullen took off his shoes and padded gently towards the source of the noise; when he pushed open the door his heart sank, because Mushy was sat in front of the couch whining and pawing at Immy, who was curled up on on it, knees pulled right against her chest and her face buried in her lap while she cried.

"Hey, hey, hey, Immy…" He said, walking quickly to the couch and crouching beside it, gently resting a hand on her leg. "What on earth is wrong?"

She started at his voice and her head snapped up, but she relaxed and sighed when she registered who he was.

"Oh, Cullen." She said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I didn't hear you come in."

Cullen shifted to sit next to her on the sofa, still looking at her with deep concern. He waited patiently for her to take several deep breaths, and felt around blindly for the box of tissues that he knew was on the coffee table. Mushy boofed quietly and nudged them into his hand.

"It's my boss. Again." Immy finally said, wrinkling her nose and yanking a tissue from the box angrily. "Do you know how much work I've actually done in the lab this whole week? Ten minutes. Ten! He treats all of us like children, talking slowly when he explains the most basic alchemical concepts like none of us have degrees or training. I filled out my own appraisal today, Cullen, because he told me he couldn't be bothered. It's humiliating. We're fucking miserable, and all I ever hear is how lucky I am to work for such an esteemed alchemist." She rolled her eyes at the last two words, flopping back against the cushions. "I want to quit. I should quit. But I have bills to pay, and lab work is so much easier to find when you're already working in one, and it took me so long to find this one, and I…" She trailed off, looking at Cullen and biting her lip as her eyes filled with fresh tears. "I'm scared."

"I understand," he said, rubbing her leg soothingly. "It's okay to be scared. And it's okay to be angry. He treats you terribly and I wish there was something I could do to help."

Immy smiled gratefully, scratching Mushy's ears absent-mindedly. "Thanks, Cullen." There was a pause where they lapsed into comfortable silence, before Cullen had an idea.

"Come on," he said, smiling and getting to his feet, holding a hand out to Immy. "Let's go to the corner shop. You need ice cream."

Immy raised an eyebrow. "You're the one always telling me off for eating dairy." She adopted a mockingly serious expression and lowered her voice into a terrible impression of his own. "You're lactose-intolerant, Imryll! Stop eating cheese, Imryll! Why have you got a milkshake, Imryll? You'll only make yourself feel worse later on!"

Cullen chuckled and rolled his eyes. "It's an emergency. I'll let it slide. Now come on."

Immy grinned and took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. “Fine. But you’re paying, and we get to buy treats for Mushy.”

The sun was just dipping behind the roofs as they stepped onto the pavement, and Cullen found himself enjoying the short walk to the shop. He and Immy were content in silence, and he watched as she hopped from paving stone to paving stone, skipping and twirling round lamp posts, dancing to music only she could hear. It was nice to see her like this for once; she spent so long working, and the rest of the time stressing about that work, that seeing her be herself was a rare sight these days. It was a welcome change.

Cullen watched her in the store too, chatting happily to the clerk, who knew them well by now, smiling warmly as they both entered. She picked out ice cream, and managed to convince him to let her get two tubs, though both of them knew it wasn’t a hard sell. She snuck extra treats for Mushy onto the counter too, which Cullen pretended not to see, and Immy pretended were a total surprise to find in the bag.

When she sank onto the couch, Cullen retrieved her favourite stuffed toy, and the pink fleece blanket that sat on the bottom of her bed, and tucked her in. She tried to protest but Cullen just raised an eyebrow, which, accompanied by a boof and tail wag from Mushy, was more than enough for her to relent.

Five minutes later, they were settled in their usual position: Immy snuggled into one corner, legs stretched out, feet in Cullen’s lap, with Mushy curled up under Cullen’s arm on the other side. Immy tucked into her ice cream happily and raised an eyebrow skeptically when Cullen picked out their entertainment for the evening.

“A chess documentary?”

“What?” He replied defensively. "It’s informative, on a subject I like, and not nearly complicated enough to require our full attention.”

“Fine.” She said reluctantly, nudging him with her foot. “You’re lucky I like you, Cullen.”

He chuckled. “So you keep reminding me.”

It was about another half an hour later when Immy suddenly sat up, eyes wide. “Oh!” She said around a mouthful of dessert. “I completely forgot! How was your date?”

Cullen groaned in response.

“That bad, huh?”

“It was… fine.”

“Buuuuut?” Immy encouraged, and Cullen sighed.

“But it was just fine. It was… boring, really.”

“No spark?”

Cullen shook his head. “Nothing. She was nice and pretty and I barely remember anything we talked about. And the worst part is, I think I knew it would be like that before I arrived. I’m not even sure why I agreed to meet her in the first place.”

That part was a lie. He did know, but he couldn’t bear to admit it to Immy. He already felt pathetic, he didn’t want her to pity him on top of everything else.

She smiled at him sympathetically. “Hey. It happens. At least it was forgettable as opposed to disastrous.”

“Well, there is that.”

“You know, like that time you went to Joe’s Bar, and-”

“Yes, thank you, Immy.” Cullen said, blushing furiously and glowering at her. “You know I swear the reason no one has forgotten that is because you keep bringing it up.”

Immy grinned. “Who? Me? Never.”

It should have annoyed him, but for some reason, he just rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly. “You’re impossible, sometimes.”

“Look, someone has to keep you interesting, Mr ‘I-Watch-Chess-Documentaries-For-Fun’”

“Hey, you were getting really into it before you decided to bring up my shambles of a love life!”

Immy just stuck her tongue out, and took another large spoonful of ice cream.

They watched the rest of the documentary, then Immy found some ridiculous foreign drama to watch that Cullen had never heard of, and they ordered take-out. The next several hours were mostly spent laughing. Immy stole his glasses to do a terrible impression of him sat at his date, and he helped her brainstorm outlandish scenarios in which her boss would get his comeuppance, and she would be appointed head of the lab and given crown funding from the King to do whatever research she fancied, and make dairy-free ice cream that didn’t taste like garbage. Mushy posed several interesting ideas, which Immy listened to intently and rewarded him with treats for, agreeing with everything and pretending to take notes. They shared food from each other’s plates and Cullen gave her the spare dumpling in the serving of five, because he knew it would get him a smile.

It did, and her eyes crinkled with delight as he insisted she take it, and his heart definitely didn’t speed up when he noticed her dimples, or how endearing they were. He didn’t see them very often, but whenever he did, it was a smile that lit up her whole face, making her eyes sparkle.

“It’s okay, you know,” she said quietly during a period of silence. “That you’re struggling. With dating, I mean.”

Cullen sighed and closed his eyes, putting his food down on the table. “It’s been two years, Immy.”

“That’s not that long.” She shifted position, rotating to lean against his shoulder, tucking her legs up underneath her.

“Isn’t it?”

“Not after what happened, absolutely not.” Her hand came to rest on his knee. “Stuff like that takes time to get over.”

Cullen felt his jaw tighten. “But I-”

“But nothing, Cullen,” Immy said, lifting her head and turning to look at him. “You’ve been through a lot of shit. You wouldn’t say the same things to me, would you? That I was taking too much time to recover or that my progress was meaningless?”

He wanted to disagree, but she was right. He would never say those things to her. But she was kind, and passionate, and she spread light wherever she went, and he was just… him. He turned to meet her gaze, and she was looking at him with such a fierce intensity it momentarily stole his breath away.

“Be kinder to yourself, Cullen.” She said, quietly. “You deserve it.”

"Thank you," he said, his mouth suddenly dry as sandpaper, "for listening to me. It… helps." She was so close he could count each individual freckle on her face if he wanted, a canvas of constellations he suddenly longed to chart.

"I'll always listen," she replied. "You're my friend, Cullen."

The silence that followed only lasted a few seconds, but it might as well have been a millennia. Cullen's eyes flicked to Immy's lips, and it felt as if the entire world was holding its breath. His pulse thudded in his ears. How had he never noticed how nice her lips were before?

A police siren wailed outside, and Cullen cleared his throat, pulling away and rubbing the back of his neck, feeling heat creeping up his face. "Yes. Well. I'm glad. You're mine too. My friend, I mean."

Immy was blushing as well, looking pointedly at anything that wasn't him, and he seized the opportunity to disappear before he embarrassed himself further.

"I'm going to. Um. Go for a run. Take Mushy. It'll help me sleep. Okay. Cool." He stood up from the sofa like it had burned him and nearly power walked into his room, closing the door far too loudly. He leant against it and slid down until he was sat on the floor, groaning loudly and banging his head against the wood. He could still smell her hair. It would have been so easy to reach out, to tangle his fingers in those beautiful, thick, black curls and press his lips against hers—

Oh.

Oh no.

He was fucked.

#cullen x lavellan #cullen x inquisitor #cullen rutherford #inquisitor lavellan #ash writes #cullen x imryll

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