Dragon Age One Shots

Party Banter, Cullen/Inquisitor

It bugged me that there was no party banter if you were in a romance with Cullen, so I decided to make my own!

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Blackwall: I ran into Cullen on the way into the main hall. Man looked exhausted but was smiling harder than a sheep knee deep in good elfroot.

Inquisitor: Why are you telling me?

Blackwall: Best to be careful with your toys, Inquisitor. You don't want to break him.

Sera: *Snorts* Or you'll have to take him to the blacksmith. Ya know. To fix his broken sword.

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Cole: 'What comes next?' Words of hope, breaths of fear. Every hope, every wish, every future hanging upon the next. A calming smile to clear the air.

Cole: He did need to ask. Glass glitters in gaps, smirk rising. With both hands, duty shoved away allowing a chance to breathe together. How long was this dreamed of? A life?

Inquisitor: Cole? Could you not read the Commander's mind, please?

Cole: I wasn't reading his.

Cole: He's happy you're happy.

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Varric: You owe me.

Cassandra: Now is not the time, dwarf.

Varric: Seeker, I am a businessman which has gifted me a preternatural ability to know when someone's either gonna pay their debts or skip town.

Cassandra: Very well...

Varric: So I expect the two silvers in my palm before we next make camp.

Cassandra: *disgusted noise* Fine! Here!

Cassandra: When I met the man in Kirkwall I never would have imagined him capable of such feats upon furniture.

Varric: Curly has a habit of surprising people.

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Solas: Where did we leave off? Ah yes, your knight took my mage.

Iron Bull: *snorts* No kidding.

Solas: Pardon?

Iron Bull: Heard there was banging for near on an hour. Some of the boys were worried they were gonna have to excavate both of 'em, and the desk when the floor'd give through.

Iron Bull: Lucky for her, Skyhold's built like an ox.

Solas: Could we return to the game instead of idle gossip?

Iron Bull: Seeing how both have been grinning like mertam cats in the sun, ain't nothing idle about 'em. Fine, fine. Tamassran to C5.

Iron Bull: This is why people like Sera more.

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Vivienne: Lord Dorian, were you injured in the last fight? You appear to be limping.

Dorian: It is a trifle, blasted foot fell asleep upon me.

Vivienne: I see. So it is not due to you scuffling with Count Chavon in an unsavory bar brawl?

Dorian: Come now. I'd never waste my time expounding such energies in barbarism when there was drinking to be done.

Vivienne: Then it was another man's imperium seal embedded into the dear count's jawline?

Dorian: Ah yes, I remember the chap now. Dreadful plumage stuffed inside a chartreuse doublet. He deserved far worse for such crimes upon the senses.

Vivienne: Most curious as I heard the man was raving about our Inquisitor's taste in bed partners, with copious references to turnip-implied genitalia. The scuttle-butt is you took it upon yourself to defend her.

Dorian: What? That's...that's nonsense. Why would I ever risk my neck for such specious rumors? His shoes were white leather, with crimson stockings to his knees.

Dorian: I deserve a medal for taking out such an atrocity.

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Sera: *giggles*

Inquisitor: *sighs* What is it?

Sera: I keep wonderin' how it is you don't swallow fur.

Inquisitor: What?!

Sera: Wads of it sprouting on both his shoulders and the back. Have to keep your lips shut or you'll drown in hair. Lessen you prefer to be flipped around with your bum in the sky. Suppose that'd work.

Inquisitor: Do you think...? His coat comes off!

Sera: *snorts* You expect me to believe our jackboot, prowling lion Commander don't come with his own mane? I ain't that gullible, dear Inquisitor.

Sera: Bet he likes having it pulled too.