My Warden (COMPLETED)

Faithful

9:41 Skyhold

He watched her thin fingers run the rim of the tea cup. She wouldn't drink it, or even acknowledge it, beyond circling the top as it cooled on his desk. The book Lana swiped off his shelves was proving far more interesting than a royal elfroot blend. Perched upon the edge of his desk with one leg off the ground, she'd been reading through it quietly while he was getting work done. Supposed to be getting work done. Every few lines, Cullen's gaze would travel up the slender arms calmly turning a page, fall into the gentle eyes lost in thought, and hunger for the succulent lips in a calculating pout. He'd accomplished barely a thing since she strolled into his office and he didn't care a whit about it.

Trying to ground himself, he reached for his own mug of tea and picked up the small goblet of milk. Why it was in a goblet was beyond his understanding aside from Josephine explaining, "There is a small dish problem that I am looking into. I suspect Sera is involved but haven't found the proof yet." Slopping a mess across the tray, Cullen managed to get a plop of milk into his mug.

"You're doing it wrong," Lana said, somehow watching him with her eyes still engrossed in the book.

"It's not my fault the glass doesn't have a spout," he said.

"Not that," she closed the book and placed it upon the desk. Spinning around, she placed a hand next to her own cup as she beamed those soulful eyes into him. "The milk. You add it first, then the tea. Everyone knows it."

"Why would I do that? What difference does it make?"

"What difference? All the difference in thedas," she threw her arms wide and hopped off the desk. Grabbing up the book, Lana moved towards the shelf to return it back where she found it. "By adding it first you ensure the perfect distribution of milk to tea, it doesn't sit there in a white blob on the surface."

"A problem which could be solved with a spoon," Cullen said. He stared at the white blob disseminating into the brown liquid in his mug. "What if I wanted to add more milk? I couldn't do it if the tea came after."

Lana pivoted on her hip and eyed him up, "You're over thirty, I'd think by now you'd know your preferred ratio of milk to tea." Her dead serious face didn't crack as she turned back to the shelf, her fingers drawing across his offerings as if hoping it had changed since she last looked.

The offended mug of tea sat idle as Cullen slipped away from his desk. His hands resting upon the sword, he stretched his neck. "Wouldn't adding the milk first scald it?"

"Oh, this old fallacy," she sighed, pinching her nose. "If you are drinking tea that warm, you clearly already despise your tongue and throat, and it doesn't matter what you do. Milk before tea, it's the only proper way to do it."

Running his tongue against his teeth, he gazed up at the ceiling. "This is the hill you intend to die upon, the proper addition of milk."

"I'm afraid so, Commander," she ruefully said, a trace of a smile breaking up her words. "The only solution to this impasse is a duel at dawn. Since you're the offended party, I'll let you have first choice of weapons."

Falling in behind her, Cullen slipped his hands around her waist to clasp tight to her stomach. Lana leaned back into him, her hair cushioning against his chest as she sighed. "I choose my arms," he whispered. To back up his claim, he increased his hug and bent his knees enough he could rest his chin upon her head. Whether it was her natural warmth or the sweet floral oils in her hair, peace curled through Cullen whenever he held her. Any dark or bitter thoughts vanished the moment she slipped into his arms, and when she'd touch his cheek or traipse her fingers through his hair, he'd dare to hope that for once in his life things would go well.