After six years in Kirkwall, Cullen never thought he'd see the mighty Hero of Ferelden ever again until one night when she appeared unannounced in his room requesting him to help her track down a dangerous blood mage. Can he come to terms with his u...
"Please, you have to try this," Mia attempted to goad Cullen into eating some more of a yam dish that'd passed him by twice now.
"No, I am far beyond stuffed. Sometimes I think you're trying to fatten me up," Cullen complained. To elucidate his decision, he scooted his plate across the table and folded his arms across his stomach.
"You're nothing but bones," Mia continued, waving at the in no way skinny figure sitting beside Lana. "I can understand not gaining any weight on Orlesian food, but you're home now. Fill up."
Shaking his head, Cullen turned to his brother sitting beside him. "Does she harp on you as well?"
"Every moment she gets," Branson responded, reaching across the table to snatch up a roll.
"It's not my fault neither of you know how to eat," Mia huffed, about to put the yams down, when Lana spoke up.
"I'd like to try some, if that's all right."
"See," Mia beamed, passing over the plate. Her smile grew wider as Lana scooped three clumps off and dug in. "Maker, I don't know where you put it all on that tiny frame."
Lana shrugged, having already eaten through some of the roast pork, a sage and squash dressing, parts of a cold bean salad, and the pie Mia promised to save. As she scooped the yams into her mouth, she caught Cullen out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't smirking at her bottomless appetite, and certainly not squicked out at it. Instead, he was smiling in relief, always grateful every time she'd go for seconds or thirds. If she'd ever frown at a slight bulge rising in her stomach, he'd slide his hands around her and thank the Maker that she was back in his arms and healthy. It was hard to feel self conscious when that was the man who held her naked.
"That's nothing," Cullen spoke up, "she's gone toe to toe with qunari before."
"You mean in an eating contest?" Angie asked. She had her boy bouncing on her lap while the other children had quickly finished up their dinners and raced upstairs to do something. They spoke so ecstatically about it Lana couldn't understand a single word.
"Ah," Lana glanced over at Cullen, "Yes, in an eating contest." The siblings in on who she was politely coughed behind their hands.
"I don't remember you eating so readily during the wedding," Branson spoke up. "Nerves throw you off?"
"Among other things," Lana said diplomatically.
"Like say a Sister suffering continual panic attacks, Leliana arriving just before dusk and insisting we herd everyone together to get it over with, Varric...being Varric."
She reached over to grab her grumbling husband's hand, and he smiled in spite of all that went wrong. In the end, they were married and they never told a soul that they'd tied the knot the night before. Absently, Lana dropped her spoon and tugged at the chain around her neck bearing Cullen's coin.
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