My Warden (COMPLETED)

My Love

9:44 The Dales

Rubbing sleep out of his eye, Cullen tried to sneak down the stairs but every slip of his cautious foot caused a creak to moan through the entire hunting lodge. He couldn't remember who it technically belonged to, and the Divine waved his questions away with her enigmatic smile. Regardless, it seemed unlikely there'd be any unexpected visitors soon judging by the rain sleeting down the windows. Someone must have sunk almost all their coin into insulating the lodge as he couldn't hear a single drip of the water against the roof and panes of glass.

Sliding down the last of the stairs, he ignored the multitude of trophy heads glassily staring off the wall - Cullen only had eyes for the woman haphazardly strewn across the chair. Fire roared out of the hearth despite the rain slicking down the chimney, probably because the flames were blue. Ever since the fade, she hadn't been able to sleep without some light in the room and relied on veilfire throughout the night. She was never far from the blue and teal flame, the light washing over her and the chair like reflections off the sea. The chair itself was one of those monstrous things favored by Dukes and Counts of a certain disposition. With a high back carved to mimic a deer's antlers gouging off the sides, it imposed in the impractical way, trying to start up a conversation no one wanted to have. Rather than sit properly in it, she rested sideways, both of her elbows upon one arm while her knees dangled off the other. Legs bare despite the rain's chill, her feet kicked up and down displaying the toes painted in every color of the rainbow.

It was a new experience for him watching her Most Holy, the Divine squeal while painting twenty toes in all the options available to the two women. After weeks, chips of paint cracked off most of the nails from their travels, but she didn't mind. She said spotting the remaining colors brightened her up.

"I thought you were going to wake me from my nap," Cullen spoke while trying to comb his curls out of their wadded knot.

Lana slipped a finger in her book and turned in the chair to find him. A sweet smile twisted up her lips as well as his stomach. Maker, he'd do anything to see that smile every day for the rest of his life. "I couldn't. You were so exhausted when we arrived and...adorable when you sleep. There is warm tea if you'd like." She waved her hand towards a kettle resting on the end table beside her elbows.

Shaking his head, Cullen placed a hand against the metal anticipating what he'd find. "Cold," he chuckled.

"Oh dear, I forgot to return it after I..." she turned to her cup, nearly full, and probably just as cold.

Pulling up the kettle, Cullen placed it upon the hearth to warm up, "You have a terrible condition when it comes to tea."

"I know. I always think it'd be nice to sip some while reading, then I become engrossed and completely forget about it," she watched him prod at the logs not being consumed by the veilfire. Maybe he should try a real one. The blue light was useful, but true fire put out more heat. A soft sigh broke from her, and Cullen glanced over his shoulder to find her eyes, thick with hunger, traveling down his back.

"Hand me your cup as well?" he asked, breaking his spell over her. Reaching blindly behind her, she scooted the saucer and cup towards him then settled back into the chair.

"I'm afraid I'm bollocks at multi-tasking," Lana continued to list her faults, "unless it's on the battlefield."

Cullen smiled impishly, "Or in bed."

"That, uh," she tugged on the collar gaping around her neck, "I suppose there as well." Instead of her usual tunics or robes, she wore a wool sweater that could easily fit another one of her. The loose neck drooped down exposing her shoulder while the bottom hem reached past her upper thighs.