Pride, Wolf and Rebellion

Love

"We are making headway, but the red lyrium is deep underground," Cullen said from behind his desk in his quarters. He passed Fen'Asha the current research on the Titans, but there was little by way of new information. One of the Titans had the Blight, but there was nothing to do and nowhere to go from there.

"We know so little," said Fen'Asha.

"The mages work around the clock to protect the natural world from the Blight," continued Cullen. "But there are many limitations." He sighed and stood.

Fen'Asha sighed as well and crossed her arms. "Perhaps a walk?"

He smiled and led the way to the door, opening it.

They strolled the ramparts quietly, watching the guards and the bustle of activity below. And there were knowing glances from a few of the men, especially as Fen'Asha drew nearer and nearer to Cullen by the footstep.

Cullen sighed after noticing two guards rush to a hushed conversation after he passed. "You wouldn't believe how quickly gossip spread throughout the barracks," he commented.

"What do you mean?" asked Fen'Asha absently.

"I would rather our private affairs remain private," said Cullen. "But rumours and hearsay does appear to boost morale among the guards, so perhaps that is its own incentive."

They crossed to an empty room, one of many still occupying Skyhold, and opened the door to the musty insides. There were stacks and stacks of papers and books in one of the corners and covered paintings were haphazardly piled against the far wall.

"This is to be an art room," said Cullen. "I guess."

Fen'Asha uncovered some of the paintings and gave mind to a certain image that spiraled the rotunda wall, with howling wolves and incomplete dragon curving around the surface.

Eventually she drew closer to him, felt his presence near. She brushed her hand against his. "I've never been in this room before... There are many things in Skyhold I've yet to explore."

"There are..." he said. "Many things I too have not done that I have wished to do."

"Such as?"

"A gentleman maintains his mysteries, Inquisitor," he said. His eyes were rapaciously scanning her form and he was unconcealed in his endeavour to uphold his privacy.

"I can keep a secret," said Fen'Asha. She pressed her body against his, feeling his muscular figure under his familiar clothing.

"I can't," he breathed and pulled himself to her face, kissing her abruptly.

She gasped but relented to him, allowing his mouth to search hers, allowing his tongue to enter, allowing her eyes to close to the clement vibrations coursing through her trembling body.

"I am sorry," Cullen said as he pulled himself away. "I was impulsive, Inquisitor."

"No," said Fen'Asha, looking up at him. "Don't..." She pulled him closer, kissing him again and gripping his soft fur-rimmed garments, wolf-like garments... She closed her eyes and heard the distant howling.

Fen'Asha sighed as she climbed the stairs to her quarters. She was happy to be back after another long exertion in another elven ruin. She lit a candle, sat on the edge of her bed, held herself close. Her thoughts swam in the flicker of her fire and she watched the shadows dance. She was in her room. Shouldn't she have sought Cullen's?

What was she doing?

She knew her memories were torn by Solas, were inflicted with his remains and his considerations. His words had ceased to echo in her mind for the time being, but there was no questioning the weight of his presence. She pondered him constantly, read his name in every document and saw his face in every mirror. He lurked behind her, his breath coursing through every dream. Every quiet moment was interrupted by another recollection, another whisper from the past.