My Warden (COMPLETED)

Charm

Dropping his hand under the table, Cullen banged his knuckles against the support leg before glancing fingers across his intended target. Reinforcing his grip, he circled around Lana's fingers that'd been upon her knee. She didn't turn away from watching a few street jugglers ply their trade, but a blush rose up her cheeks as she returned his caress.

More than aware that he was acting like a love addled young man while wearing a cheesy grin from holding a beautiful woman's hand, Cullen couldn't scrounge up the ability to care. On occasion a few eyes turned in their direction, all of them landing upon the Commander...no, the ex-Commander of the Inquisition. He'd look up to ascertain if it was anyone he'd know but that only seemed to encourage more gawking and, on occasion, some attempting to strike up a conversation.

After dismissing the last hanger-on with a "Madam, please, I am with someone and have no interest in any of your children, grandchildren, or great grandchildren!" they'd been left alone. Lana remained quiet through it, her leg crossed at the knee while she picked at the wool scarf tied around her neck. It was done in the colors of blue and silver, a fact that alarmed Cullen when she appeared with it, but Lana waved him off. They were the colors of the year and much of Val Royeaux was wearing them. She'd blend in perfectly.

It seemed strange to have the open air patio in use, with snow from the Satinalia blizzard still clinging in drifts piled up against walls and a chill wafting on the breeze, but Orlesians never made any damn sense. Honor slumbered at his feet after a rousing day of chasing after a few children who managed to snag the mabari's ball and thought they could escape with it. It was the perfect winter afternoon with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

"Does that happen often?" Lana asked, turning to face him. The gap of her face that was visible between wool scarf and fluffy hat bore the red haze of cold that only winter could bring, but she smiled and shook off any of his suggestions to head inside. Lana lived for the outdoors any chance she had.

Giving his hand another squeeze, she elaborated, "Women approaching you and offering you up to daughters or granddaughters?"

"No," Cullen groaned, wishing Orlais would keep its knotted nose out of his business. "At least, not on the regular."

"Oh no, you can't deflect that. You have to tell me now," Lana perked up, adjusting herself in her chair. They weren't the most comfortable seats in Val Royeaux, and by the winter's chill the wrought iron burned a cold up through his pants. He wished he'd put on the pair of long johns Lana suggested.

Cullen tried to stall for time, his eyes trailing around the courtyard filled with the remnants of a happy Satinalia. Scraps of bunting hung off the drying evergreen boughs on their way to being everbrown. But what demanded their attention were the jugglers, huskers, and -- Maker help him -- mimes working the crowds. Drained people moved through Val Royeaux on their way to return home after the celebration and the street hustlers knew that was when to strike.

"Was it during your time in Skyhold? Kirkwall?" she adjusted herself in her seat. "I can keep guessing all day, you know."

"Very well," he sighed, accepting defeat, "it was in Rivain."

"When you were...? Oh," she sagged down a bit but Cullen tugged her tighter to him by their conjoined hands.

"It was quite possibly the most embarrassing moment to have happen."

"Why?" Lana chuckled, "It's not as if Alistair was... Oh, dear," she patted her cheeks at his sneer, the one she claimed he wore special whenever the king was mentioned.

"He was purchasing some trinkets for his Queen," Cullen said. Lana merely nodded along as if she was aware of that arrangement and didn't care. "...when the woman at the shop asked if she could purchase me for her daughter or granddaughter. I wasn't entirely clear on the conversation." Lana tipped her head down, staring at the table while Cullen continued. "In truth, if it weren't for the king's interceding I'm uncertain what I'd have done. I...I do not speak Rivaini."