Dragon Age One Shots

Regency Cullen 20

"Remain here," Cullen orders, bolting from the small cabin into a deluge. Dark clouds crowd the skies, blotting away the horizon so one cannot tell where sea becomes air. Water gushes from above, drenching Cullen as he skids towards the wheel. All around him are the handful of sailors tugging on rigging.

"Get the mains down! Now!" he shouts, digging his thumb into the rotating wheel. It nearly breaks his wrist, but he holds firm, refusing to give into the machinations of Neptune's wrath.

Cullen glances past the men scurrying to tug in the sails before their ship is tipped over in the winds. Curling from the very dregs of the ocean rise twisting water spouts. And one is bearing down upon them!

"Hold tight!" he screams, hauling the wheel to turn the ship starboard as fast as he can. Where in the devil did this squall even come from?

His ship pitches to right, cresting along with a vengeful wave as water sprays against his face horizontally. And you brought her into this. The woman you love could die because you were too cowardly to confront her on land. Why can you not learn to trust...

A spot of green breaks from the drenching greys of rain and Cullen's breath clogs. For it can only be Gwen stepping from the secure cabin, the ribbons of her dress whipping in the rain. She stands staring dead straight into the heart of the spout as it clips to the side, just missing the ship it'd have ripped in half.

"Gwen!" Cullen shouts, trying to call to her, "Get back inside!" It's the only chance of safety on this ship.

Her head turns, the ebony curls plastered to her head from the rains as she eyes him up. There isn't terror in her beautiful face, only conviction. It causes the breath to clog in his lungs, when a snap echoes from the lines.

The second sail whips away from the hands supposed to be tying it down. As it catches the wild winds, the ship spins with. "Shit!" Cullen shrieks, the wheel ripping from his hands and spinning away. The floor under him pitches, sending nearly all hands to the decks. Even with the winds and rains thundering upon him, he hears two deadly splashes of bodies tossed from the ship.

Gwen?!

The sail reaches the end of its swing, hanging out over the open waves cresting higher than buildings in Val Royeaux. The ship ceases its spinning, Cullen finally able to get a grip on the wheel, but there's a new problem. Untethered and filled with wind, the sail is dragging them directly towards the rocks below the cliffs.

"Secure that sail before we're breached!" Cullen shouts, trying with all his strength to twist the ship to take the storm head on. Even with life hanging on the line, he glances from the bolts of lightning to Gwen.

She's still on board and is...tying her hair up. The soft slippers fly off her feet, the gentle woman running for the second mast. Sailors strain at the edge of the ship, hands trying to catch the snapped rope dangling in the open ocean.

And Gwen, a governess and child of nobility, is climbing up the mast as if she was born in a crow's nest.

"What are you doing?!" Cullen cries, his heart lodging in his throat. He can't be certain if she even hears him, her body little more than a drenched dress wrapping around the pole. She inches out towards the pounding waves below, her hands surely slick from the rain. It'd be little more than a bump to send her crashing to her death.

His shoulders scream at him, but he will not let the rudder take control. Pain shoots up his knee, Cullen blinking feverishly to keep the view of her reaching the edge of the sail. It must be hell out there, her body shuddering against every ounce of nature trying to get her to fall. But she isn't even trembling, her hands smoothly reaching down to gather the fallen rope.

With a measured throw, she tosses it to the sailors who quickly begin to tug both the sail and Gwen back towards the ship. Cullen doesn't resume breathing until her nimble feet touch the deck.

"Oh shit!" he cries as a wave crests over their ship. Water plunges into his nose, the salt stinging his open eyes, but he clings desperately to the wheel. It pulls on him, trying to drag him to the ocean floor, but he will not go without a fight. Not when there's still a chance.

The ship rights itself quickly, water receding from his lungs. He tries to shake out the damp curls wadding in his eyes and takes quick inventory of those remaining. A bright sprig of green lays beside the gunwale but Gwen's already rising to her feet. There are only four or five sailors left on deck. Cullen realizes no one remains at his side, which means the navigator was ripped into the ocean. He's on his own to right this disaster.

"Another big one!" a voice calls, everyone huddling for safety.

Cullen snarls, straining to turn into the wave, but the rudder refuses to listen. The winds continually spin them for the rocks they just missed before. Get out of this storm, avoid the rocks, seek shelter and regroup. He can do this.

A hand grabs the peg beside his, a soft hand that's knotting into a gnarl. She tugs with him, her teeth bared as Gwen gives a loud grunt. Slowly, the ship banks, the nose rising directly into the path of the wave. As it rolls towards them, the ship just manages to climb water for once not wiping them out.

Panting raises the bodice clung to Gwen's chest, her eyes whipping around as she snatches up a fallen rope. Cullen watches her knot it around her waist, his jaw falling slack, "Who are you?"

"Tie this on," she says instead, dangling the rope beside him.

"No, I have to steer..."

"Cullen, we are at the mercy of the squall," the supposed Governess snarls, already knotting around his waist as he hangs onto the wheel. She finishes the knot to said wheel, the pair of them bound together. "I will not lose you," Gwen swears, her hands gripping to the wheel for support.

Below them, the other sailors are doing the same, dreaded eyes turning to the rising waterspouts. But all Cullen can look at is the gritted jawline and set eyes of his betrothed. Who or what is she?

Gwen raises her eyes from the washed deck, meeting his and for a moment the certainty wavers. She knows as well as he does how dangerous this northern storm is. And neither want to die in it.

"A twister ahead!" the sailors call.

Cullen tries to steer out of the way, but it's baring down too quickly. Gwen slots in beside him, trying to aid in the sluggish rudder but there isn't time. It'll rip their ship to shreds and send the debris washing for the shore. Just as the deadly winds strike, the crumple of wood shattering the air, water striking his face, Cullen wraps a hand around Gwen's waist. He closes his eyes as hell crashes around them.