Moments

Moment of Desire

MATURE WARNING: This bits spicier than normal. So be warned *waves fingers*

______________________

The throbbing behind my jaw intensified to a drumming through the muscles in the back of my head. I crossed over the gates of Skyhold, trying to keep my body as far from the bounce of the saddle as possible. The long ride did in what little I had left of my spirit -- even my fellow companions fell silent from my mood, grumbling from my dour mood.

I got as far as technically being inside my hold before jumping off the horse. Stablehands rushed from the wings, ready to snatch up the reins. Someone planted a rumor that Dalish only rode halla because their skin could burn a horse's flesh. Normally, I'd curse a storm at such nonsense, but it did cause servants to rush to tend to my horse at record speeds. I didn't have the focus to take care of the problem myself, and was happy to pass it off.

One of the younger stablehands with knotted brown hair tried to scamper past, but I snagged his arm. Through my locked jaw I chewed one word out, "Cullen?"

"Oh, um, I believe he was last spotted in the training yard. Your worship," was tacked on at the end, his eyes drawing across my armor coated in demon ichor. It had not been a good trip. I nodded brusquely at his answer and stalked towards the commander.

Behind me I heard Dorian whistle, "Someone's in trouble."

"What'd Curly even do?" Varric asked back, but I had no time to explain to them, no words that would suffice. My temples throbbed from a buzzing in my blood and an unquenchable thirst rasped my throat dry. A sneer embedded into my cheeks, the uncomfortableness in my body draining my usual demeanor from good natured, to disgruntled, to a one syllable speaking monster liable to rip someone's head off for looking at me wrong.

There was only one solution and he was apparently surrounded by his men. This wasn't going to go over well. I tried picking up the pace, but that only made the throbbing increase, the chainmail snapping against my thighs and chafing the far too tender area. Moving like a woman with her ankles chained together, I eased down the incline to find Cullen commanding amongst a small battalion of soldiers. They weren't in the middle of any serious exercises, a few of them having taken knees to listen to the commander droning on about duty, and tactics, and other things I'd at least nod about if I were in a better mood.

He looked up from his rant long enough to spy me and smiled. I wished I could return it, but it took all my concentration to keep walking towards him. Holding a wide berth around the soldiers, I circled until I could stand beside the commander. The winds shifted, casting his musky scent towards me - I swallowed back a growl, jabbing my fingers into my eyelids to maintain my grip on reality. Cullen's diatribe slipped away as he twisted towards me, waiting for me to gift them with word's of heraldry encouragement.

My jaw tensed up, speaking grinding to a halt as my body raged war against itself. Unable to explain, I grabbed his naked hand for once free of his gloves and yanked him up the staircase. "Um," Cullen didn't fight me, but he turned back and waved towards his soldiers. "Dismissed...but make sure to properly stack your equipment. We don't need an armory of dented shields."

A couple dozen eyes followed us as the tiny elven woman dragged the commander of the Inquisition across the battlements by his hand. He tried to get a word in, but I shook him off, shoving for anywhere that was private. My hand snagged on a doorknob and I pulled him into one of the many unfinished rooms skirting around Skyhold.

Rotten planks cracked from the roof lay strewn across the bed rendering it unsalvageable and useless, but a table stood at the other end of the room. That might do. I released Cullen's hand and tried to steady my head, but that only drew out the throbbing like weep from a wound.