Blow a Kiss My Way for Good Luck

There we are, dear @shadesyste ! I hope you like it as much I liked writing it! Thanks for the prompt, I hoped someone would sent me this one!

Cullen Rutherford X Demetra Trevelyan

“Blow a kiss my way for good luck." She blinked “Are you serious?” Cullen grinned, behind the jaws of his lion helmet, stealing her breath. For a moment, the Orlesian crowd and the Inquisition people gathered in the courtyard disappeared. She could only focus on his face, fierce and stunning, the halo of red and black fur which fell on his board shoulders, matching perfectly the one on his cloak. Fully dressed for a battle, Cullen truly showed he was a warrior. He was steel and flesh and blonde curls and sharp blades. A thing sometime she didn’t realize, not fully. Because she had the privilege to see more often his tender side, his blushes, his yawns in the morning. She was blessed enough to be tenderly embraced and passionately loved by him, and the Cullen she was accustomed to see more often was that one, not the warrior who now was standing proudly in front of her.  Andraste and all her friends!, he was positively sinful in his battle attire. She could easily picture the new ways the Orlesians there would start to call him. She didn’t like it as much as she knew he wouldn’t.  Despite Cullen’s objections in having his helmet shaped in that leonine way - Josie once told her all the story, making the Inquisitor laugh hard - Demetra thought it suited him.  Calm and quiet until the occasion requested a powerful roar, she thought with a little smile. Her lion. Maker, she was reading too much Cassandra’s books, she scolded herself. But it was undeniable Cullen’s ferocious side was a rare and exciting view. A reminder that he held his position in the Inquisition because he had deserved it, because he knew what a battle was.  “I’m sure you don’t need good luck.” she murmured, adjusting an already perfectly fixed buckle on his breastplate. Ignoring the prying eyes all around, he grabbed her hand, pressing her fingers against the fangs of his helmet, mimicking the kiss he was unable to give her “A little luck can’t hurt, right?”. They shared a smile, remembering the similar conversation had near the lake he loved so much.  “Commander Cullèn!” the ironic voice cut the air, deliberately putting the accent of his name in the wrong way. The general Vasieaux - former general, since Gaspard had formally put an end to the war - looked at him from behind his masked helmet “As lovely as the Inquisitor is, I’m here for the challenge that has been promised me, not for looking at the two of you.” Demetra was truly tempted to remember him he was the one who had challenged Cullen during the banquet, the previous night. Oh, it had been a perfectly polite request to see if the Commander was as able as the general had heard. But nobody in the Main Hall had missed how the Orlesian man had wrapped is request, with not so subtles hints about the supremacy of Chevaliers above the rustic - he had used that word too much - way Fereldans fought usually. Even when Demetra, with her sweetest smile, had reminded him the rustic Fereldans conquered their freedom form Orlais, the man hadn’t stopped. The general was angry, that was clear. Even more clearer, he considered the war the only worth occupation and saw in the Inquisition the cause of his forced retirement from the battlefield. Still, he hadn’t the balls to challenge her directly - Bull’s words - so he had directed his barely masked grudge on Cullen.  Huge, stupid mistake, Cassandra had rightfully pointed out greeting them that morning. And menacing Cullen to punch him if he was going to lose against such a poor opponent. A friendly match had been organized by Josephine, the Ambassador herself irritated by the man’s arrogance, after he had been welcomed in Skyhold. With a sly smile, Vivienne had murmured to Demetra that she was going to bet hundred sovereigns on Cullen’s victory. The only ones who had bet on the general had been the members of his entourage, Varric had whispered, and not all of them! The Commander straigthened himself, releasing her hand, and marching toward the training ring. Rylen was waiting with Cullen’s shield, to help him to put it on. She called her Commander “Cullen?” When he turned, Demetra blowed her kiss. He laughed, grabbing it with the hand he was going to use to carry the shield, putting it on his heart. She blushed and their people cheered openly.  Later, in the tavern, Vivienne bought a round of Cabot’s best ale to all the presents with her winnings, to celebrate the victorious Commander. In a corner, the above -mentioned Commander was totally busy to receive the kiss - the kisses -  of victory from his Inquisitor. This time with no helmets between them.

Let Me Carry You

Thanks, @uriellactaea, and many apologies for this taking so much time! I admit I had a great fun doing this. Let’s go with the feelings!

Demetra Trevelyan X Cullen Rutherford

“Put me down.” Demetra murmured, eyes barely open “I’m too heavy, Cullen.” “Hush, my lady.” the Commander cooed, bending over her protectively “Let me carry you just for a little more, okay?”. She didn’t answer, flutctuating between sleep and vigil, but her hand grabbed a little tighter the fur on his cloak. She was honestly heavy, with her full armor still on, and the snow didn’t make any easier their march, but he wouldn’t let her go for the world. 

He simply couldn’t. 

Not after seeing her facing alone a dragon and that thing who proclaimed to be an ancient magister, not after hearing the thunder of the avalanche running where she was, not after believing she was death. The thought almost made him whine. For some horrible hours, she was gone and he had found himself dealing with hollow and remorse and regret, punching a rock to regain an appearance of self control, welcoming the pain on his fingers that was so much better than the twisting of his heart. Cullen had thought Demetra was gone, lost forever to save them all once again, and he had realized that he would never see again the Herald tipping her fingers on the table, trying to make a decision. Neither he would speak once again with her about serious strategies and harmless gossips. She would never tell him about her love for books, and her doubts as the Herald. She would never force him to sit and eat in Flissa’s tavern, pointing out that the Commander needed to keep his strength.  At the beginning, he was embarassed dealing with everything wasn’t strictly professional. But she had never overstepped, just offered him a sincere friendship, a warm smile which reminded him that in their messy world there were still good things.  He had found her attractive since the very first time, but he didn’t expect his crush would evolve in something different. Deep. When she had successfully sealed the Breach, he thought that pheraps he could try to understand if she would be willing to give him a chance to be in her life, in some way. Which way, he couldn’t imagine, because he had decided to tell her about the lyrium, his past, everything. Cullen had thought he was going to lose her forever. Demetra was too good and kind and in a certain way naive to deal with his past, to understand how a man who was meant to protect had been almost devoured by his rage, but he wanted to be sincere. He wanted to show her that her work was inspiring him, helping him to be better. That he was going to accept whatever she wanted to give him.

Cullen held back the lump in his throat, glancing down at Demetra. She was half covered in blood from a deep wound on her left side that he and Cassandra had patched as best as they could, and her face was a mosaic of bruises. But Maker, she was alive and they were hurrying toward their camp to make sure she would stay alive.  “Cullen,” Cassandra called, the only one remained after she had sent the others to alert the healers “let me help you.” “I’m fine.” he said, unconsciously grabbing the Herald a little tighter “I’m fine.” he repeated, savoring the truth on his tongue. He had said those words hours before, when Cassandra had tried to check him, not realizing how broken his voice was and the defeat in his posture. But this time, Cassandra didn’t push to speak to him, she just nodded. Cullen would feel even better when he would see someone take proper care of Demetra, but he knew she was going to live. She has to. He wouldn’t allow her to die on that cursed mountain, in the darkness and the cold she hated so much.

“Cullen you alright?” Demetra murmured trying to open her eyes “Cass? The others? I…” “We’re alright, my lady.” he whispered, hurrying seeing the first campfires “Hold on, we’re almost arrived. You’ll be fine, I promise.”. And he had always been a man of his word.

Oh Lion, My Lion

The words of this song are property of Suzanne van Pelt. I was inspired to write this listening at her masterpiece HERE.  Dedicated to @alma-enigmatica , who was waiting for a new fan fiction. I hope you like it!

Cullen Rutherford X Demetra Trevelyan

Oh lion, my lion your deafening roar Will again be as loud as it once was before We fight through the nightmares, the shades and the fade Til the war has been won and the tides have been swayed

“It’s about me! Us! It’s… it’s your poetry!” Cullen said dumbstrucked, stopping abruptly in the middle of the road and grabbing his beloved’s hand so thight she winced. He murmured an apology, softening his grip, but his eyes, wide open and shocked, were glued on the wooden building in front of them. From the little tavern, the melodic voices of the ministrels warmed the quiet summer night, and the former Inquisitor released the breath she didn’t realize was holding back in her throat.

“They came to visit me, some days ago, when you were out with your brother.” she murmured quietly, an apology shying rising in her voice “They… they has read my poetries and asked the permission to set some of them to music. I don’t know how they knew I was here in the South Reach, visiting your family.”.

He looked at her, his cheeks reddened “Why didn’t you tell me?”. Cullen was still puzzled, his eyes unsure, and her heart squeezed in her chest. Cornered. Maybe that had been a mistake.