Moments

Moment of Perfection

My foot snagged on a brick atop a pile of its brethren. Nearly six months since we moved into Skyhold and I still hadn't bothered to clear it out. I glared at them for a moment and sighed, exhaustion making the decision for me.

"I'll move you later," I muttered, climbing up the last stairs to my quarters, knowing it won't happen. There were far more important duties for the Inquisitor than a pile of loose bricks and some starlings nesting in the ceiling.

Weariness clouded my brow. The others who traveled with me barely made it through the hold's doors before collapsing in a heap. It wasn't supposed to go quite so badly, but that's the thing with dragons. Even when it goes according to plan, you're still fighting a damn dragon!

Steadying on the bannister, my head poked over the landing to find a balm for the rawest soul. The porcelain bath Josie surprised me with gurgled in the vast space between bed and fireplace. Steam still hissed off the water. No one should have known when we'd be back, but I spotted the ravens preceding us and convinced Sera to not shoot them out of the sky.

Dropping the bag brimming with elfroot (we always need the damn stuff) onto my bed, I twisted my shoulder's knots begging for a moment's relief. The rattling of bolts reverberated below me as someone yanked open the door, armored feet stomping up the stairs two at a time.

Sighing, I dipped my fingers into the tub. The siren call was overbearing. It was right here, waiting to soothe away a weeks worth of tramping around in the mud and muck. But I only trailed my fingers through the water, making little glyph symbols to pass the time as he rounded that first staircase and made for the second.

My lips curled as I heard him pause at the landing, his labored breathing trying to overcome the armor he insisted on wearing everywhere.

"Maker's breath, you could have told me you were back!" he grumbled.

"Hello, Cullen," I said, then turned towards him. His hands rested upon his sword hilt as he fiddled with it. "I'm back."

"I see that now."

"So there's nothing to worry about," I said, rising away from the tub.

"You traveled to fight a dragon, there's plenty to worry about."

I pulled back my sleeves, exposing dirty but undamaged flesh, "Look, no burn marks."

His whiskered chin jerked towards my head. "What about that?"

Sheepishly, I pulled off the helmet I forgot I still had on. A char pattern covered the top half and shattered one of the wings on the side. It was always kind of a stupid design and whipped in the wind. The dragon improved it. Self consciously, I tried to comb my flat hair into place, but he didn't care. Crossing heel to toe, Cullen reached out for the helmet. I dropped it into his hands so he could inspect the damage.

"Useless now," he declared, poking a finger into the char and denting deep into the compromised metal.

"I never liked it much anyway. She did me a favor." Those doleful eyes turned on me and my smirk wavered, "Cullen..."

His gloved hand worked through my knotted hair, trying to shape it. I ran my fingers along his arm, burrowing into the pelt across his shoulders.

"I know you worry..."

"Find me a man who wouldn't," he said, cupping around my jaw.

"Which is why I'll fight through the void to come back to you."

That delectable scar across his lips rose with his smile. Knotting my fingers through his shoulder pelts, I rose on my toes and kissed him. He stumbled for a moment, always tensing before letting himself give in. Cullen's hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer to him. The armor bit into my chest, but I ignored the pain.