Chương 41: Chapter 41: Forging A Path Forward Pt.2
Warning: Sexual content.
***
She packed in the solitude of her tent for the next two hours. It shouldn't have taken nearly that long, but she found herself staring off in deep thought often, forgetting what she was doing. How did such a pleasant conversation go to the Void so quickly? Realizing afterward that she had yet to send her letter to the Ambassador, Evelyn reluctantly walked to the Command Tent to fetch paper. Not wanting to look suspicious, she simply pushed in but found the place empty. With a sigh of relief, she sat back down and finished her letter. Placing it in the pile to be sent, she stopped suddenly seeing one addressed to Cullen's family. When a warning began ringing in her head and heart studying the way his handwriting messily wrote Mia's name on the outside, she flew out of the tent bumping smack into Rylen.
"Andraste's tits, oh! Your Worship, apologies for meeting you like this but..."
"Not now, Knight-Captain, I need to find the Commander," her urgency was clear, but he held a hand out blocking her path.
"Aye, and I was comin' to tell ye he's in a bad way speakin' to the Seeker now about resignin'."
"Did he tell you what happened?"
Nodding, Rylen's concern was clear, "He knows it to be expected, but I think with all the stress he's been under lately between the operation and..." he guiltily looked at her, "pardon my impertinence, but yerself, he's making it into somethin' larger than it is."
The Inquisitor sighed matching his expression, "Where are they speaking?"
"They're in the Fortress, in what used to be the armory. And lass," she had made her way around him already but stopped to look back, "I think he needs some of yer haughty noble sass to kick him in the arse." Smiling she nodded and briskly made her way into Adamant.
Preparing a lecture for him the entire way, she ignored the salutes that followed her there. With the ancient fortress cleared out in preparation to move tomorrow, it was easy to find where they were meeting, simply following the faint echo of their voices. Standing outside the door, she paused listening to the two argue back and forth for a minute. Cassandra repeated that he was still fit for duty while he spiraled. When she could no longer suffer his excuses, which helped her rage rise to a bitter simmer, she threw open the door. Her scared jaw was set, and her raptor eyes locked onto him. Under her glare, his anger suddenly faltered.
The armory was dark, with the two of them only lighting a couple of candles, which she remedied with a wave of her hand. The tall ceiling boasted a large chandelier and the crude iron candelabras huddled in the corners. The wax from the old tallow candles made the armory smell smoky, leaving sooty black streaks up the walls. There were a few wooden tables with weapons left laid out for the fortress' fallen defenders. Long commissioned flags boasting the Warden's griffon insignia hung still, now left forgotten in the once legendary stronghold. In the aftermath of being beaten by the siege engines, a portion of the ceiling had fallen letting in a dusty beam of sunlight.
Cassandra crossed her arms, leaning back slightly, "We could feel you coming from a mile away, Inquisitor. You should probably--"
"Save it, I'm here for him." She was well aware her aura was running hot.
Squaring his shoulders to her, he took a deep breath willing his voice to a formal tone, "Inquisitor, I regret to inform you--"
"Shut your fucking hole. I'm the one who will be doing the talking here, Commander." Stalking closer to him from the doorway, she continued, growling out the words, "I deny your request to resign based on your belief that you are unfit for command. Unless you tell us that you simply no longer wish to serve, I don't accept your resignation." A scowl formed on his handsome face as it dawned on him what she was doing. "Go on, tell me you'd rather return home to South Reach and ignore all this going on."
"That is not why I need to quit my post."
Holding a hand up to him, her aura was such an accidental spark of flame spurted along with her hand flick. Turning now to the Seeker, she asked, "What is your official assessment of his condition?"
"That the Commander is still of sound mind and judgment to continue in his current position. That one lost memory is nothing to panic over." Evelyn could see Cullen's own temper rising as his face flushed. "Before you came, I was trying to get him to agree to see Enchanter Ilara to further assess his memory loss because for all we know this is the first and only one. Not to mention if it was caused by lyrium withdrawal or just natural."
He shot back, "You damn well know it's not natural!"
Cassandra's glare became more lethal at his tone, "Everyone forgets. Without proper tracking we can't know for sure, but," she faced her tentmate, "it is my belief that he is still fit for duty. He's shown no other signs that he cannot perform his duty unless it is as you say and he wants to quit."
"Don't do that," the Seeker shrugged at him, "what she's doing." He pointed at Evelyn with an accusatory finger. "There is no room for sentimentality here!"
The Seeker scoffed with a grunt, "Me? Sentimental? I've never been accused of it, especially while performing my duty."
"Cassandra has given her assessment." She paused for effect, glowering at him, "So, are you quitting or not?"
"And what of your feelings, Inquisitor? Would you placate to my ego to save me? To save face? As if that was your responsibility?"
The air in the room felt like the inside of a bread oven. The molten mana of her core pumped her magic up her veins. She raised her chin, about to breathe fire, but Cassandra strode over to her and placed a glowing hand on her shoulder. The two locked eyes in trust, as the Seeker used her power to reduce her magical wrath before leaving, whispering that she'd give them some privacy. Thanks to the Seeker, they were about to have a much more civil conversation.
"Save face? That is my responsibility, though I think my image has been well-smeared about by recent events! What exactly did you think I was trying to do going along with Ryker's scheme? He threatened everything I hold dear, and was also ready to sacrifice me to Corypheus if I didn't do as he said. Nevermind, that for months I was subjected to his abuse! That every day that man beat me and tortured me mentally in ways you couldn't fathom." Her hands came up to animate her point, "I had no one to confide in! Sure, Ilara knew, but she cried every time he laid a hand on me, so how could I bear to speak to her about what it was doing to me? Everything just bottled up and all I could do was pretend that I was fine! But you had it worse did you?" Her anger was slowly devolving into tears.
"You think this is some contest for who had it the worst? I hate myself for every minute of every day that monster breathed the same air as you, especially when I could've killed him that first night! I hate that he touched you and did those things to you! And you're telling me, you couldn't have told me what was going on?"
She nodded her head, knowing even back then when it was all happening that this was how he was going to react. The re-emergence of all the frustrations that had crippled her came flooding back, "No, I couldn't! He had spies watching me! You know that, but this here now is not about us, it's about you." Evelyn tried to switch back to the problem at hand. She hadn't meant for the conversation to bring up the Ryker issue. "I mean really? One memory and you're ready to give up your duty; your career; your passion to go home and waste away as another Templar the Chantry broke? Unacceptable!"
"You are so concerned about my livelihood, why is that? Is it because you know the future I'd provide you wouldn't be up to Trevelyan standards?" She groaned as he once again referred back to their relationship problem, "What's wrong, don't want to live on a farm in Ferelden's countryside having to do actual work? We may be paid a decent wage now, but that will end when the Inquisition is dissolved. I don't see you coming with a dowry or inheritance that allows you to sit on your noble arse the rest of your days! Perhaps it would be best for you to go home to Ostwick. I'm sure your mother already has her next pick of a husband ready for you!"
"You want to go there do you?!" The Phoenix was yelling now despite Cassandra's assistance cooling her mana, "Go ahead, Cullen! Tell me that I'm no different than any other noble you've met! That my only motivation is money and power. That day in the War Room when I was forced to end things with you, I only said all that so you'd believe I was doing it for family."
"And that right there is the other issue!" He paused a moment, his rage too morphing into hurt, "You knew exactly what to say to get me to react the way you wanted. From questioning my health to what happened that day at breakfast. You played The Game and I was your pawn." Evelyn dipped her head in shame, for it was true. Hot tears began to stream down her cheeks. "But first, you had to degrade me by telling me you didn't think me capable of supporting you. Evelyn, I'd do anything for you!" She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a cry, now wanting to take back the horrid words she had spewed moments earlier.
"I didn't mean it."
"Maybe not, but there was some truth to it. You seemed surprised when I told you I was thinking about a life after the Inquisition. Well, I tell you now, as my mind deteriorates and I become a burden, my family may be the only ones willing to care for me. They are also the only ones I'd be able to afford with the coin I make from this post. No Chantry home will take me for I'm not a Templar any longer, not to mention a commoner. Why would they make an exception for me?"
Evelyn scoffed, "Cullen, you are in better physical and mental shape than most men. Don't resign yourself to a bed after one slip of the mind. Maker, you're acting like an old man who forgot his own name! It was one insignificant memory." He exhaled sharply looking away as her words seemed to sink in. "I feel the same way about my mark. I don't know when or how it will happen, but something will. Until then, I just wanted to spend my time with you. After South Reach, I had never planned on Ryker coming back to haunt me. Maker, I should've made sure he was dead back in Ostwick. It was all my fault, and I'm sorry." When he stayed quiet, she sighed and began to trudge her way back to the door, tired of constantly dealing with this problem. In the deep recesses of her mind, she could hear Ryker having the last laugh. She just wished it'd go away. With a tired raspy voice, Evelyn sorrowfully admitted, "You know, this was not the way I saw this talk going all the times I envisioned it in my head. Maker, if you can ever find it in you to forgive me..."
Reaching the door, she hesitated and placed her forehead against it, shutting her eyes and the world out of her sight. Leaving now meant just more complications, but they both seemed to have hit a wall. The wound had been torn open and they both found it stung still. Steeling herself to face the world of violence and chaos beyond it, she grasped the handle weakly. With whatever willpower she had left, Evelyn squeezed the handle as if she were trying to choke it, but a presence hovering just behind her took her hand. Lifting it gently from the handle, he wove his fingers in hers, resting his head on the back of her shoulder.
"I want to forgive you, but... I'm stubborn." His simple phrase made her snort a laugh through her tears.
At his touch, her eyes grew heavy again, "You and me both." Releasing his hand to face him, she forced herself to look up into his face as the mark cast its green light on them. "Please don't resign, I can't do this without you. I don't want to admit that I need someone, having always been independent, but I do. I need you." Her brow knitted together at the confession of the weakness, but was it truly? To admit that she needed a man was no feebleness; he was her strength, support, and heart. No, it was a strength, for it felt like the two of them together could move the Frostbacks if they wished.
Studying her hard, she watched his eyes trace the scar on her jaw, up across the nick on her nose, to then gaze into her eyes. With a sigh that seemed to let go of the weight of the world, he softly spoke, "I will submit myself to a memory examination by Enchanter Ilara and continue in in my current post until I am found unfit for command." Evelyn flopped her back against the door in relief, nodding her head. Stepping closer to brush his body against her, his hands went to steady himself on either side of the door. The gentle honey hue of his eyes was intensified by the glow of the candlelight in the room. "Maker knows, I do love you, Evelyn. You and I are like two hurricanes, but when we are together we always meet in the calm of the storms bellowing about us. I need you as much as you think you need me."
Shaking her head, the Phoenix cupped his face, desperation filling her voice, "I do need you, you silly man. Just let me love you as you are. There is nothing else I want."
Pulling his face to hers, she kissed him with a sweet longing as his hands circled her body pulling her even closer. The thin linen of their shirts was easy to manipulate, feeling it wash over her skin as he explored her upper body. She broke away from his lips as he trailed down, opening the lightly tanned expanse of her neck. His mouth ghosted along her skin giving her goosebumps, causing her chest to heave at the sensation. His usual scent of oak moss and elderflower was dulled from being out in the field, but his heady masculine musk was intoxicating.
"Cullen," he hummed in response to her whisper, as he devoured the space just under her jaw on her throat like a lion, "take me." His mouth stilled, only his hot breath now touched her, and he pulled away as if in disbelief of what he had heard. Leaning slowly in for her turn, nibbling and kissing up his jawline to his ear, she bit his ear lobe. His deep breaths were coming in faster and heavier. Laden with desire, her voice was breathy as she pleaded with him, "Take me here and let us bury it all. Please..." Coming back to face him, Cullen searched her eyes for the truth of her words before he pressed his forehead to hers nodding and holding her gaze in a deep understanding. If talking was not enough to move past their problems, more powerful emotions were needed.
Vaguely aware that his hands had gone to her wrists, distracted by the directness of his leonine gaze, his hands slid into hers as their fingers intertwined against the door. Trapped, a moan slipped from her when their hips met. The feel of his hardening manhood grinding into her made her chest tingle with a heat her mana could never replicate, never mind that of between her legs. Despite everything, she wanted more, pushing her breasts into his chest arching her body against his rigid planes. Cullen's mouth domineered over hers, as she submitted to his adventurous tongue.
Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he let go of her briefly to throw it to the side, coming back down on her harder. Evelyn's legs quaked from the sheer force he commanded through his battle-hardened body loving his dominance. Tangling his hands in her shirt, he growled out an 'off' to which she happily complied, sheading it while he rid himself of his sword belt. Before he could see, too busy neatly setting aside his things, she pulled the tie of her breast band lose. As she rolled it up and over her, when it cleared her view she found him frozen staring at her in heated awe.
Yet, his eyes weren't locked on her bare breasts, but her scars. Since the Conclave, she had accumulated several ghastly scars. Between the ones on her left shoulder, chest, and leg, she wasn't sure which was visually more horrid. Despite being marked himself viciously about his upper body, it was different for men. It made him look rugged and all the more attractive, whereas Evelyn was led to believe such marks were unbecoming on women – her mother always having said so.
Regret surfaced in his eyes, "How could I ever have even thought of leaving you after all you've been through – after all we've put you through." She realized the weight that her earlier words placed on him when she begged him not to leave. Evelyn smiled lovingly at him as she slowly relieved herself of her pants, followed by her smalls, transforming his guilt into smoldering lust, "Maker, Eve..."
Untying the cord around her braid, she shook out her hair and closed the distance between him. Taking his hand in hers she glided it up and down her skin, leaving in its wake a trail of gooseflesh. "Here I am, Cullen. It doesn't matter what they do to my body, my heart beats only for you. No one can't take that away from me – from us." At a loss of words, the intensity behind his gaze spoke volumes. She saw every emotion swirling within him, but an expression of shame was the one to win out in the end. Knowing exactly what he was thinking, she pulled his face to hers whispering against it, "Don't you dare think that you don't deserve this – us. You've become so much more than your past, don't you see?" Frustration began welling up in her wanting to pound her fists against him until he stopped blaming himself for what happened at Kinloch Tower and Kirkwall.
One hand trailed down to his pants ties pulling them open, which was enough to shaking him from his thoughts. His hands found her again, realizing a rougher approach was needed.
"Cullen," his eyed flicked up to hers on command, "give it all to me. I want your guilt, anger, frustration, pain; I want it all. Use me, I can take it." He was thinking hard about it, fighting a silent internal battle. "Let it go," he pressed her lips to his, "I love you."
Grabbing her shoulders, he pushed her back into the door. The force of it shook the doorframe and one hand snaked its way up her throat, holding her back from him. "You know my shame, my guilt. Even so, I need to ask, are you sure? Me?"
She knew what he meant; they were standing on edge of cliff, slowly getting ready to fall into the murky waters of the future below. There were no assurances of what resided in its depths, and he was asking her if this was what she wanted. Whether it be their love, his condition, her magic, or the world crisis at hand, nothing was certain. The heartache at the thought of what he was alluding to pertaining to him was choking her more so than the hand on her throat.
Evelyn slowly brought her mana forth; her brown irises glowed bright orange, she brushed her two-toned hair off her scarred shoulder, and then she held up her marked hand. "I think I could ask you the same." The green light sparked, and she slapped her hand down against the door, biting back the sting. "I'm not asking you to fuck me, I'm asking you to make love to me, Cullen."
The words finally got through his thick walls of resistance. She could almost see the porticullis lifting, like a weight was being taken off him. He understood.
Evelyn guided the hand at her throat down her body, arching up into its calloused contours as it passed over a breast. Rolling her curves against it and his body, his doubts were replaced with desire. When they reached the spot between her hips, they both let out a groan feeling how wet she was. The shift in their energy was profound, for both had made their choice, neither wanting to go back.
Cullen's fingers began to work her without any more encouragement, allowing hers to finish relieving him of his pants and smalls. When they we gone and kicked to the side, the velvety shaft pressed hard on her stomach. Evelyn moaned at the contact, gyrating wantonly against his hand for more friction. Guiding her legs up around his waist, she held on tight to him, not relenting on her motions.
Her moves were causing him to make the odd misstep here and there as he tried to find a place to satisfy her. "Maker, woman, you're impatient."
She smiled against his lips at hearing the lightness of his mood return. "Can you blame me? I've wanted you for so long."
"And I you." He walked them over to one of the Warden's pendants and tore it down with an impressive tug. Seeing what he was doing, Evelyn relented for a moment while he draped the clean side over a pile of stuffed archery targets that were stored in there. Gazing back at her, he asked, "Will this do?"
"Yes—" before she could say more he threw her down on it. With a surprised gasp, she bounced on the lumpy surface, which flung her hair about.
When she pushed it all back, he was already pouncing on her, "You alright?"
"Cullen, I've been tail whipped by a dragon, I think I can handle a little toss."
Climbing over her, he pinned her hips down as if she were a wild Avvar bride after him. Amusing as it was, when her eyes took in the sight of his manhood it was like an electric jolt of magic vibrating in her core. Though remembering how it tasted, she had yet to feel it throbbing and thrusting inside of her. His lips came down on her, but she greedily pushed her tongue into his, humming at the lingering taste of his black coffee on his breath from earlier. Holding his stubbly jaw lovingly, she submitted to his pace as he lowered himself pushing her legs apart.
Cullen dragged himself along her entrance, occasionally dipping his tip into her teasingly. When she realized what he was doing, she nipped his lip before doing the same to his neck. With a growl at the sudden pain, he buried himself in her, pushing in slowly. Evelyn spread herself wider, wanting—no, needing him to bottom out.
When he reached her cervix, he paused gazing down at her. Something of pure peace and fondness washed over him, and a smile pulled at their lips. Their joining was breathtaking, having never coupled for love. Reveling in how whole she felt after all this time, she let her muscles stretch and tighten around him, enjoying the way it made him groan.
Their eyes communicated through this new heightened physical connection. When he shifted his weight drawing out to thrust back in, his hands fisted the fine fabric of the flag beneath them. White-knuckling it, Cullen's pace increased, and his muscles visably flexed. Each thrust coaxed melodic moans from her, arching her back up off the pendant. Her pert rosy nipples dragged along his chest, but before long they proved too tempting not to touch. His rough hand fondled one, making her writhe under him more.
"Sit up, my love," he obeyed, and the two reversed their positions. With him sitting, she impaled herself down on him. His mouth immediately latched to her throat roughly as his arm hugged her tight against his sculpted body. Rocking against him, fully joined, it felt so right her eyes were rolling back in her head, "Ah, Cullen!" The change made his cock hit all the right spots, and her inner walls fluttered.
He growled against her neck, when she clamped down around him, "Keep doing that and I won't last long, Eve. Maker, you feel so good, like you were made for me." She couldn't help but smile at the way he affectionately spoke to her. Aside from calling her 'Trevelyan' he didn't use another nickname for her, and as no one called her 'Eve' it made it all the more perfect. His hips jerked, greedily wanting more friction, chasing the end with her. She didn't care if it was short and sweet, there would be time later to draw out their pleasure.
Her fingers grabbed and carded through this thick golden hair as she spoke into it, "Come with me, I need to feel it." There was no objection on his end, so she feverishly worked her hips with his assistance holding her ass firmly. Cullen leaned slightly back more, reaching deeper inside of her, "Yes, Cullen! Oh—" Evelyn's release was a blinding explosion that echoed about the spacious room. The flame of the candles grew unnaturally tall and volatile as they sparked and sputtered. The bloom of warmth spreading within her womb made her tremble, feeling his cock pulsate with each burst. Cullen choked roar was cut off when she crashed her lips into his from above. When their cries ended, all the candlelight was snuffed, leaving them in the dark.
After a minute she waved her hand about relighting the armory. Watching his chest heave, he fell back against the targets before guiding her down against him. As she did, regrettably he slid out of her, making her miss him already. Cullen's arm was quick to hug her close to him despite the sticky mess and sweat moistening their skin. "I'm sorry, it has been a while," he panted.
Evelyn looked up with an amused smile, "It was perfect." Turning to face him, her fingers gently caressed his relaxed stomach muscles up and down, "That was better than anything I dreamt up."
He chuckled, combing his fingers through her hair, "A crumbling Warden fortress in the middle of the desert was better?"
She shrugged, "Yes, for who could've thought that one up?" Sitting up she dug out their handkerchiefs to clean up. Handing him one, she felt a wet trickle run down her leg. Cullen saw it and a smirk pulled at his scarred lip admiring the view. Evelyn couldn't help but mirror it glad to have been claim by such a man – her man. Finger-combing her hair, she began to re-braid it with her practiced efficiency. The blonde ends stood out against her new tan from the dry desert sun. "What about you?"
"I had a bit more comfort envisioned," he sat up joining her, looking about and rubbing the back of his head, "you know, at least one pillow." After finishing her braid, she leaned over to him for another passionate kiss, seeing him start to endearingly fret. His fingers came up and lingered gently on the rosy scar on the inside of her right breast, tenderly caressing it.
Pulling back with a small laugh, she couldn't help but tease him, "Well, next time a fit of passion hits me I'll make sure there's a pillow around for your delicate head, Rutherford." She mussed his thick hair further, liking the way it softened his controlled appearance. Before he could grab her, she stood deftly dodging his arms, and made her way to dress, watching him huff.
"By the way... I do forgive you." She turned to face him suddenly. "It had been easier to stay mad than to confront it. You of all people know how I get with this sort of thing." She truly did, the only difference being that this time the wound was still fresh rather than a years old scar. They had been through the cycles of their acceptence of their trauma multiple times, and by far, Cullen always put up the hardest fight.
Her heart leaped in her chest, "I do know. We'll get through it like everything else." Locking eyes, hers conveyed the depth of what those words meant to her – hope. Evelyn couldn't help but wear a smitten smile on her face as they dressed.
Evelyn felt more unburdened than she had in months. The first thing she wanted to do was speak to Bull and Rocky about destroying the rest of the ancient fortress before they left. Aside from the obvious reasons for it, she had been very serious about burying the issues once and for all between she and Cullen. With her personal affairs in relative order and their hearts mended, vibrancy could return to her life; a life with Cullen in it.
Finally, they had found their way out of the tempest they had been lost in for months. Like a ship at sea, the clear skies brought clarity and direction to where they wanted to go in their relationship. If the conditions stayed favorable, they were sailing towards calm seas and bright sunny days. The waters would test them, but they had navigated perhaps the worst of storms and grew stronger from it. Come what may, she was confident they'd face it together next time - though she would be damned before something else parted them.
On their walk back to camp, their quiet companionship was interupted, when he stopped suddenly. He blushed lowering his voice, "Um, what were you planning on doing about..." he made a vague gesture to their lower regions.
"I'm headed to see Ilara before I do anything else, don't worry."
"Right," he swallowed hard and stiffened at the topic, resuming their walk. Gazing over at him out of the corner of her eye, she bit back the laugh knowing now was not the time. Not when the were now amonst their soldiers. Parting with nods, the couple went in separate directions having work to do though no doubt that very same work would bring them back together.
At the healer's tent, her best friend had her nose stuck in a medical log. Upon her approach, she noticed her good mood, "Evie, is everything alright?"
"I need a favor," she intoned lowering her voice. "I need some witherstalk."
"For what?"
She huffed, "Do you absolutely have to know why I need it?"
"I keep a detailed medical log, something you agreed I should do. I also need to account for all my supplies to Quartermaster Morris."
"Fine, it's cramps."
"No, it's not. You and I are on the same cycle." Evelyn frowned and crossed her arms having been caught in a lie. "Fess up, what is it?" Knowing there was only a select number of things witherstalk treated, like preventing pregnancy, Ilara narrowed her eyes on her. "Evie?"
"Can it be left out of your pristine medical log? Inquisitor confidentiality, something like that?" Smiling rather smugly, her friend nodded. Evelyn sighed, though she couldn't suppress a twitch of a smile, "I may have made up with a certain tall, blonde, and handsome man." Ilara's signature squeal rose up as her face scrunched up giddily. Needing to put a stop to it, she put her in a light headlock facing one of the canvas sides of the tent. "Lar, you need to try and not explode here."
Giving her a stern look, the pretty mage's deflated, as she pushed away from her grasp and rummaged through her herbal supplies that she had packed for the trip home. Placing it in a small pouch and handing it to Evelyn, the Enchanter crossed her arms, "I'll be finding you later, and you will tell me all the details and let me squeal all I want in a secluded part of camp."
"If I must—"
"You must."
***
Back at the Command Tent, he was pleased to see Rylen was coordinating everything in his short absence. "Ah, Commander, everything 'ere is progressing smoothly. We should be ready to depart on schedule."
"Very good, no trouble then?"
He leveled him a pointed look, "Not besides you, ya stubborn arse."
Returning the look to his good friend, he rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, "The matter has been settled."
"And?"
"And... I'm not resigning."
Rylen's steel eyes brightened, "I knew she'd convince ye. Good thing I tattled on ye to the Inquisitor." He had been wondering how she found out, wanting to keep her out of it for the very reason that of all people she knew how to disarm him – she had been doing it since they met. Striding over to clap him on the shoulders, glad to know he was alright, the Marcher couldn't contain his smile, "I'm here for whatever ye need, and—hold on, what's that?"
Cullen's brow creased, "What's what?"
"Ye sly fennec. I'm happy to see ye and Evie are doing very well, it would seem." He gave his second a confused look, "You may want to wear a higher collared shirt though. Ye have a bite mark the size and color of a plum on yer neck."
He slapped a hand to where she bit him, "Maker's breath, is it that bad? I just walked through camp like this?"
Rylen cringed slightly, "Well, at a quick glance they may not have noticed, but ye don't need the rumor mill to start up just as we're headin' back." Nodding his head, the Commander went to leave before he was called back, "So how was it?" When he didn't answer right away, the Knight-Captain rolled his eyes with some exasperation, "The sex, ye nug-brain!"
In any other circumstance, to any other person, he would've been flustered, but the lingering effects of actually having being intimate with a woman – and Evelyn no less – had him riding a high. "Let's just say she plans on leveling the fort before we leave."
His wide eyes blinked a few times when a runner appeared. Covering the bite with his hand, Cullen quickly began the short walk back to his tent for a new shirt. Taking the message, Rylen called out to his retreating back, "Very good, Commander!" One look back showed the Marcher chuckling to himself shaking his head. Very good indeed.
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