Dragon Age One Shots

Stormy Weather (Cullen)

I'm sorry I haven't posted in 13 days XD I've had plenty of ideas and started them but none are anywhere near close to finishing! And all of them are for Cullen. My brother and I are console gamers and have been unable to play DA: Origins or 2 since 2014 due to the PS3 hating discs - we always run the risk of losing the disc in the ps3 or the console just not working afterwards. Since we have the digital copy of DAI on the PS4 though, it's all I've been able to play so Cullen is a lot fresher in my memory.

Anyways, hope you enjoy and please comment and vote if you enjoyed it! It keeps me motivated to write!

The rain drove in - a clap of thunder rolling over the hills amidst the heavy wind. Initially, she thought it was the poplars breaking the wind like a boat broke water. It was cold, much colder than the stifling heat of the afternoon - worse within her armour - and she huddled herself within her breastplate. Dorian brought up the suggestion of setting up camp - he had spied an abandoned elven ruin not too far away, perched atop a hill. The evening was coming in and the horses were restless. Even Len, a Free Marches Ranger stallion with a palomino coat, who was typically well-behaved, was giving her trouble. A few times she nearly resorted to using his full name, which would have been a little confusing and awkward.

She had enough trouble with Dorian and Varric teasing her over it, no thanks to Cole for reading aloud one of the few thoughts she didn't want him to. The last thing she needed was for his namesake to actually know. Even if it was a name given years ago.

It was still somewhat embarrassing.

No one needed to know that secret.

Elswyth agreed to set up camp, collecting as much wood as possible. And then the rain started. She could feel it in the air - the added moisture, the very specific chill, the scent in the air. There was another rumble in the air and she could only pray (metaphorically, for no Maker nor Andraste ever answered her) that it wouldn't pour until the wood, at least, was sheltered.

It seemed to go answered. In a manner of speaking. She managed to stuff the wood into a relatively water-resistant sack, t least, as much of it as she could possibly lift, and chucked it into the sheltered ruin. As soon as it hit the floor, the heavens opened.

With how heavy it was, mere seconds and it was as if the party had been swimming, Elswyth thought it was a cloud burst.

But that was three hours ago and the rain was still pouring. The thunder they heard only appeared once, but it was returning. She saw the flash of lightning first, then counted in her head. Thirty and the rumble of thunder sounded. It was thirty miles away and, if her internal compass was correct, it was to the north. It must have come across Emprise Du Lion, cold and hot air mingling to create something deadly.

In that time, she had worked up the courage to investigate some... odd sounds. A sound of battle, possibly. To the west. She saw faint sparks of magic and she hoped it was her imagination. When she arrived, however, Venatori littered the area - both dead and alive and dead... trees. With rib cages.

Sylvans.

She'd read stories about them in the past - trees that had gotten possessed by weaker demons, usually those of rage. Elswyth already knew she didn't want to be the area - where there was one Sylvan, there'd be more. But the Venatori were far too close to camp. She was tempted to turn back, grab everyone, and deal with them. But that would mean possible angered and exhausted people, which could awaken more Sylvans.

She dealt with the Venatori alone (to which there wasn't many left to handle) and returned to camp with a few pouches of herbs. Her steed had followed her, as the animal often did if she left camp for longer than five minutes - even if she needed the bathroom, according to the way he seemed to pant. She thought he was worried for a moment, but he nuzzled her right hip - where his treats were.

Of course, he only wanted treats for being a 'good' boy. He didn't deserve one for how much trouble he gave her that day, but how could she say no when he followed her? She gave him one treat and another at the hastily set up camp.

When she returned, she was drenched - not that she ever had a chance to dry - and began organising the herbs. She took off her armour afterwards and settled against a fallen brick of stone, much taller and wider than the five horses combined. Elswyth was exhausted, undoubtedly, and she heard the sleeping breaths (and snores) of Blackwall and Dorian - who were entrusted to stay awake until she returned - and Varric.

Beside her was Cullen, still and quiet. He looked uncomfortable, flat on the floor, blanket barely covering his form. She couldn't help but sigh with a roll of her eyes. She pulled up the blanket and gently ran her fingers through his hair. Elswyth noted the way his face seemed to soften, relaxing at the touch, and she quietly smiled.

She was still getting used to having Cullen joining her on the quest to go after Samson. Elswyth still had her worries, of course. Who knew how red lyrium would affect him? But she felt less worried overall with him around. Less stressed. She could sleep easier, better. When she actually slept, of course. She was in a generally better mood from what Dorian had mentioned to her. She hadn't noticed too much of a difference but maybe it was enough to ease some of her tension.

A few minutes had gone by and the rain had eased off. The storm still continued, the thunder sounding a little closer, but there seemed to be a break. Movement alerted her to Cullen awakening from his sleep. Instinctively, she sat up from slouching and searched through her pack for the small box of tea leaves and sugar.

When she looked back at Cullen, she noted weary eyes on her, a tired smile gracing his features. But he appeared to have been awake for a while.

"Good morning, Commander." A light chuckle sounded from his throat - a laugh that always caused the tiniest of flutters in her chest, so small she barely noticed. He shifted, sitting up and leaning against the masonry. They were almost shoulder to shoulder, she noticed as she kissed his temple. "I trust your sleep was relatively uninterrupted?"

"Mostly." Warm fingertips touched her cheek and she tensed it when he neared a cut. She felt the frown burn at her skin as she turned her head back to the fire.

"It's nothing. A simple cut." When the silence continued she sighed. Nothing got past the Commander and he knew her well enough. "Okay, I went hunting for herbs and got attacked by a flimsy tree branch that whipped me in the wind. It was embarrassing." She frowned at the faint sound of stifled laughter. "Hey. Not funny, Rutherford." A split second and then, "I should probably move the firewood over here. Before it gets too wet to use."

The rain had begun to fall heavier again - loud and unrelenting. As she spoke, Elswyth had already crawled the five strides. Yet, as she reached for the sack (which seemed mostly dry) of firewood, a gust of wind swiftly blew the downpour into her direction for barely a moment. She tensed, blew through pursed lips as if it would stop the rainwater from getting into her mouth, and picked up the sack of wood. Where the rain had soaked through her tunic, she felt goosebumps appear and she shivered. She returned to her place as if nothing had happened, putting a few logs of firewood into the fire, and squeezed water from her tunic.

The right side of her face stung for a moment before it went numb again. Then a gentle warmth washed over it along with a hot flash of fiery pain. She hissed. Her eye watered at the sensation. It didn't last for long, the cut being relatively small, and the tiny amount of poultice applied felt like nothing in comparison. Besides the initial suddenness of the warm, damp cloth, the action was gentle, as was the kiss to her temple and the tenderness in which he swaddled her in his blanket.

Warmth filled her chest and she looked at the ex-templar with an embarrassed smile. It seemed that, despite it all, she still required someone to clean cuts she would have otherwise ignored.

They pressed their foreheads together at first, seemingly uncaring that rainwater lingered on her skin from her hair's runoff. And then there was the gentle kiss pressed to her lips, blissful and warm. A true juxtaposition to the raging storm outside. When the kiss parted, Elswyth leaned against him, head resting against his shoulder, eyes closed and drifting off to sleep. She tilted her head up enough to kiss his jaw before settling on his shoulder once more. "Love you."

A quiet laugh and a kiss to the crown of her head was almost missed as she fell asleep, the twenty hours of being awake catching up to her quickly. The only thing she missed was the I love you, too whispered in her hair.