Dragon Age One Shots

Golden Slumber, Cullen/Inquisitor

Golden curls piled across her thighs, her fingers tenderly sifting them as she turned the pages in her book. Out of nowhere, a jab of pain twinged up her side. Instinctively, she shifted, trying to shake away the knot building in her muscles.

The lion slumbering in her lap winced, his once slack lips pulling tight into a sneer. She froze from her twisting, her breath held as she watched Cullen. He teetered upon both the waking and dreaming world, his eyelids fluttering as he fought against whatever side tried to drag him away.

Slowly, he succumbed to the thrum of her tips against his temples, the lazy crackle of the fire, and the warmth of her legs pillowing his weary head. Cullen drifted back under. Afternoon light, as golden as his hair, streaked through the window. She'd offered to draw the shades, but he shook it off. Worried she'd have trouble reading while he quickly slipped into a deep nap.

He'd began with his head tipped back on the couch, his exhausted body sitting mostly upright. But as the fade wove its spell into him, he twisted and turned until his curls piled up on her thighs. Only then did peace fall upon him, as if he needed her strength for his fights.

Still, the pain refused to recede from her side. She should wake him, shift herself. Maybe he'd remain groggy and pass back out, but...

The pacing woke her in the middle of the night. Bare feet bounding against the creaking floorboards, walking so fast it turned into marching within her dreams. She nearly sprang from the bed to find Cullen with both hands clasped to his forehead, nearly tugging the hair out by the root. His lips muttered incoherent curses, seemingly aimed at himself, until he spotted her darker shadow rising from the bed.

How he apologized for waking her, as if he had any control of his nightmares. He'd been offering to try sleeping elsewhere in the hopes it wouldn't interrupt her rest, but she wouldn't hear of it. Perhaps it was foolish to think, but she hoped the touch of her body would be enough to calm him. To remind him that he was not alone in this.

It was no wonder he was weary by day, struggling to make it even to the afternoon hours, when he collapsed into his nap. Trapped her under his burly form as her muscles began to retaliate from lack of movement. He would be mad to learn he caused her pain, but...

Soft gold, like the tips of wheat, sifted through her fingers. The wrinkles of worry, of command, of forever wearing his past in his heart eased from his face. She brushed her fingers over the scruff, trailing the hairs path downward. Bending as far as she could, her lips pressed a soft breath to his forehead.

With the kiss, Cullen's slack mouth raised into a contented smile. His loose hand rose to cup her leg as if he were cuddling tight to a long-lost childhood toy.

She could never wake him.

Raising her book towards the autumn light, she turned the next page while her lap lulled the man she loved into a peaceful slumber.