My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  He groaned again, a few intelligible words slipping past, and even with her mouth crammed around her fist, Lana answered it in kind. Cullen's eyes snapped open, his body locking up as his head snapped right to the woman staring at him in the doorway. "Maker's breath, I..." he curled over, his forehead almost smacking into the desk, to try and cover himself with his hands and chest. "Lana, I didn't hear, and I was, oh Maker."

  "No, no," she waved her hands in the air so rapidly a nail slicked across her cheek by mistake, "it's my fault. I'd never, sorry, and..." The burn churned up her legs, down her arms, bloomed upon her cheeks, and then all of it landed right in her gut.Andraste's ass, how could she do that? Embarrassment flooded her brain and took over control of her body. Instinctively, she tried to spin on her heels and move out of the room, but that was a massive mistake. Her foot failed to spin with the rest of her, sending pain roaring up her hip and down her thigh as if someone grabbed her entire leg and yanked it out of the joint. Groaning from the agony and her own idiotic move, Lana sank to the floor, the cane clattering out of her hands.

  "Lana," Cullen hitched up his pants with one hand and tried to grab onto her elbow with the other. But there was no stopping her now, and she rolled so her ass would hit the floor instead of her hip. "Are you okay? Where does it hurt?"

  "Hip, leg, misjudged the turn and...Maker's breath, that's bad, that's really bad," she hissed through clenched teeth, trying to dig her hands into her hip to alleviate the pain. Cullen watched for a moment before he bent down and scooped her up into his arms. Hoisting her tight, with both hands cupped under her thigh to lift the offended leg up, he carried her out into the sitting room.

  "Honor, off!" he shouted at the dog, who slunk down without looking at him. Grumbling about how the mabari kept casting off his commands to stay off the furniture, Cullen placed Lana down on the divan, her legs stretched out across the cushions. "What do you need from me?"

  She bit down on her cheek to fight past the pain and dove through the veil to impart some relief along her screaming joints. Looking like a red spider squashed flat, she could visually see the pain radiating out through the fade. Picking up his hand, she placed it at the center of the invisible mass, "Here, rub this."

  Nodding, Cullen sunk to his knees beside the divan and dug his fingers into her hip. Through the thin dress, he kneaded and stretched while Lana wrapped as much of the healing she dare risk into the node and Cullen's fingers spread it across her leg. After a time, the pain began to abate, and Lana threw her head back, gasping for air as if she'd been drowning. He didn't stop his massage until she ran her hand over his and gripped to it.

  Without the immediate problem of her trying to snap her own leg off, the embarrassment of before stampeded back into the room warping the very air itself. She could feel the power of his blush burning off his fingers, the radiant heat of it warming her chilled hand. "I'm so sorry, I never should have been...doing that, where you could have--"

  "Nonsense," Lana interrupted, trying to rise up from her plummet to the couch. "It was, okay, a bit awkward to walk in on, but..." She ran her fingers across his cheek and tried to get him to look up, but Cullen bored a hole through the floor instead. "It's natural," her fingers circled around his scruff, hoping his blush would break, but Cullen's neck shrunk even lower in on himself. She could almost see the blame floating through his head. Placing her lips closer to him, she whispered, "Honey eyes."

  His old nickname from the tower, the one she inadvertently gave him, was enough to draw Cullen to her. Regret wove tight through his eyes and she brushed her fingers back through his hair to try and comb it into place. He shuddered at her touch and gripped onto her wrist to pin her hand in place, "You never should have to, be forced to..."

  "Maker's breath, Cullen, you really think that's the first time I've ever stumbled upon that?"

  He grimaced, his eyes shut tight as he tried to shake off the shame enveloping him. "From in the circle?"

  Lana sighed, "On occasion, but the wardens was worse. Not surprising when you've got a bunch of people facing certain death at every turn. Senses tend to get heightened and...I'd rather they blow off steam than be snapping in anger throughout the deep roads." She tipped her head and whispered in conspiracy, "Living in tents together, it was easy to stumble upon something you didn't want to think about, so I'd often hum loudly under my breath. It kept me from having to face any embarrassing conversations later, especially with the dwarf."

  A soft prick of a smile darted around the edges of Cullen's mouth, but it wouldn't take as he kept attempting to melt into the floor. "It's not right to subject anyone to...um, things of that nature without--"

  Andraste's grace, her heart ached watching him stumble so awkwardly, the blush more reminiscent of a sunburn for how it coated his skin. Lana scooted forward and pressed her lips against his cheek, feeling his flush bright upon her own skin. "I'm not scandalized, not by any means. I assume you've had your share of surprises as well over the years."

  He rolled his eyes back at a memory and sneered, "Soldiers, templars, soldiers plus templars, it's a wonder we managed to stop a bronto much less Corypheus the way...uh, it's not important." Cullen shook it off as he pulled Lana's hand off his cheek and cupped hers inside of his. "I, it can be difficult, for me with you in my arms often, and -- not that I would ever -- and... Maker, I don't know what to say."

  "Oh, please stop being so cute," she cried. "I don't know if my heart can take anymore."

  "Cute?" he twisted his head, all sense adrift.

  "My honey eyes," her fingers twisted in his grasp and carefully caressed his palms, "I understand. To tell the truth, having you so near, your tempting fingers," she spun them up so she could look upon his hands, "massaging me...I've, um, indulged myself a time or two."

  "In the past?" he was trying to play it off, but she saw the rise of an ego driven smirk mixed in there, not that he didn't deserve one.

  "Ah, yes," Lana blinked, aware of what got her through the fade. Maker, how was it growing so hot in the cold apartments in the midst of winter? She shifted in her seat, and bit down on her lip, "And once I was out of the fade, a couple times."

  "You...?" Cullen's brow folded, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening to ruts, "How? When?"

  She shrugged, "You find time, I find time too."

  "Wait a moment. I'm...if you've been, uh, um..." he waved his hand in a circle, his throat bobbing as he struggled to raise the word.

  "Aroused?" she threw out.

  "Yes, that, then why haven't we...? I-I don't, I mean I'd never want to presume but, you've mentioned on occasion and we still..." his words trailed off as if the blush crawled up his throat and strangled his tongue. Only confusion was readable across his face. Lana tried to throw on a patina of certainty in her words as her mind screamed at her for her failures, for not anticipating this burning question between them.

  "I, it's not that I don't want to, I..." Lana's head hung down and she breathed through her nose, doing her damnedest to shore up her mouth for fear of what could escape it. She felt Cullen's hands land upon her shoulders, trying to soothe them and her untethered mind.

  "Lana, if you don't want to, you--"

  "No," her head snapped up, "No, you deserve an explanation. Believe me, there are times I am tempted, very tempted but..." she screwed her nose up to bury down the tears and as a distraction pointed at her legs. "It's been so long since anyone, uh, and my body's, well, I mean. I can't even turn without falling to the ground. What if...? What if I can't last long, or, I start to hurt in the middle of...?"

  "Then we stop," Cullen said, certainty driving away his confusion.

  Lana scoffed, "That simple? Even if you're about to--"

  "Yes, even if...Maker's breath, Lana, you shouldn't have to harm your body for my sake. I can take care of myself, as you are well aware of now," he grumbled the last part to himself but it got a laugh from her and she reached out to wrap her arms around him.

  Pulling his head tig
ht to hers, Lana felt the tears come, but they were grateful ones and not shameful at her failures. She came saddled with so many, and yet he kept putting up with each one for reasons she could scarcely understand. As Cullen slid out of the hug, he cupped his hands around her face and stared deep into her eyes, "I never want to hurt you, ever."

  "I love you," she whispered, her lips pursing into a kiss which he was happy to fulfill.

  "I love you," he said, running his fingers through her short hair. As his hands fell away, Lana grabbed one and pressed the palm of it to her lips. He smelled just how she remembered in her exile in the fade, and her days in Amaranthine after the deeproads; musky in a homespun, sun-laced field of wheat way. The scent and heat of his skin awakened what began when she walked in on him.

  Her eyes drifted up to his and Cullen seemed to sense the change in her, as he had to adjust his stance on his knees. "What if," Lana began, aware that her voice dipped lower in her need, "we take it slow? We sort of skipped all that early parts the first time..."

  A rare full smile lit up across his cheeks as he inched closer to the divan, "I suppose we did. There wasn't a lot of time for romance as I recall."

  "Darkspawn ruin everything," Lana laughed, drawing one from him as well.

  Cullen's amber eyes darted down for a moment across her body before he looked up at her, "I'll go as slow as you want, gladly. You lead and I'll follow."

  She leaned over towards him. Even on the couch and Cullen on his knees before her, because of her short height she was at most an inch above him. Running her palm across his cheek and back to cup his neck, she guided him closer and whispered, "Kiss me."

  Beautiful honey eyes slipped closed as he pressed his lips to hers, chastely dipping into the kiss, but Lana hungered for so much more. The kind of kiss she'd been denied for years. Her other hand joined the first behind his neck as she parted her lips. With a soft touch, her tongue tasted him, barely running up his lips before darting back inside. She wasn't certain if he'd understand, but Cullen matched her in kind, his own mouth opening so they could meld together as if they'd never kissed before.

  More than her denied lust woke as Cullen's lips and tongue danced with hers. A sense of safety, of belonging, settled inside her soul. When his arms wrapped around her back she felt as if she was surrounded by impenetrable defenses. And when his lips softened against hers, the sweet heat told her she was loved. She didn't realize how on edge she was every time she kissed him until it all cracked away. So scared before of having to break off his advances, worried that he'd turn cold if she told him of her concerns about pushing herself too far. Maker, she was an idiot.

  "Cullen," Lana's lips slipped a breath away, her words whispered along his cheek. His eyes opened and he smiled at her, waiting. She extended her neck, and said, "Kiss my birthmark."

  With both cheeks stretched in joy, Cullen kissed her first on the lips, the tips of his teeth threading across her bottom one. Lana felt a moan rising in her heart, when he broke away and began kissing down her neck. More than heat stirred between her legs when his lips reached the tips of her birthmark. One hand smoothed down her skin, absently tracing the pink pattern, while the other circled around her waist.

  Sighing under his breath, he watched his fingers caressing her skin before plunging his lips to it. "Oh Maker," Lana squirmed, lifting higher off the couch as each petal soft kiss pressed against her skin. She didn't know what drove him to love that mark of hers so much, but his obsession pushed her own. More than wanting, she needed to feel him kiss every inch of it. Gently, she pulled back on the lace covering her décolletage giving him access to the hidden edges of it.

  A groan, even more alluring than the one she heard from behind the desk, rattled Cullen's throat as he dove deeper down, happily lost in kissing her skin. Despite the obvious distractions only a short distance below his chin, he kept his hands off her chest, never wanting to cross her boundaries. But when his lips dipped right at the final edge of her birthmark right at the top, she needed his hands upon her breasts. Lana tried to speak, but her words were smothered by her slack tongue and unreachable by her buzzing brain.

  Lifting her hands, she picked up the one around her waist. Cullen's lips paused and he slid back as if to let her go. Instead, she grabbed onto his other hand and placed them both upon her breasts. His eyes widened, watching his palms overfill with her bounty, but then he glanced up uncertainly. Lana nodded, and tried to slide closer.

  Needing no more suggestions, Cullen's hands swirled over top both breasts, the callus on his right palm in just the right spot to stimulate her nipple. She'd thought Leliana's suggestion to skip the corset in favor of some band of cloth idiotic at the time, but now she was grateful beyond measure. Through the thin fabric of her dress and the band she could feel his every twist and turn as if he was trying to polish a priceless artifact. Both of her nipples prodded free, and while she ached to feel his lips and teeth against them, she put it down to save later. Right now, this was amazing in and of itself.

  Cullen seemed to agree as he rose up on his knees and pressed his lips to hers; when his tongue darted across her lips he gave a squeeze to her breasts. As Lana moaned in pleasure, he dove in deep, rolling with her tongue as if...as if the past two years never happened. Her fingers dug through his hair, pinning him to her, needing him, wanting him.

  Gasping, Cullen slipped back and took in a deep breath which caused his body to shudder. "Maker, this is..."

  "I know," she tried to smirk but she felt wiped clean, there was no coy come hither left in her, only joy at feeling him against her skin.

  He placed his forehead against hers and whispered, "I've missed you."

  She froze as his lips touched hers. In the back of her mind, a memory the spirit or demon drove out of her rose from its depths, where another man in another place said the same thing just before they...before she ruined everything between them. Cullen sensed the change and he rose away from her, his hands falling off her chest. "Lana, are you...?"

  Throwing up a smile quickly, she batted at her cheek as if there was a stray hair there, "It's good, it's very good, I...sorry. It's been a long day, a long couple of days, and..."

  "We can stop anytime," he said. "That was the point."

  "Right, right, the point..." she couldn't stop staring at her fingers, watching them work in and out and through each other. She used to marvel at the tendons flexing below her skin but now it unnerved her how much of the inner workings of her hand were visible with all that weight lost.

  Cullen sat back on his haunches and rubbed a hand through his hair, "What's bothering you? Something's gone wrong."

  "No," she shook her head, her false smile slipping away from her every grasp. She tried to paint it on again as she looked at him, but his eyes narrowed in response. "I...I keep thinking, do you really want to leave the Inquisition?"

  "What?" Cullen dug his hands into his eyes, "Why are you asking that now? Why are you even wondering?"

  "It, it was your home for a long time, and, I...I don't want to be the one to come between you and..."

  The hands fell from his eyes and she could feel the glower radiating off him without looking up. "You were going to say duty, weren't you?" Cullen sucked in a breath and squared his shoulders. She risked a glance in his direction and watched as his lips worked through a series of sneers, but it wasn't until he shut his eyes that he spoke. "Lana, I'm not him."

  "What, him who?"

  "You know very well who," Cullen thundered, his hand smacking into the other, the slap reverberating in the quiet apartment.

  "For the Maker's sake, I know you're not him," she argued back, at a loss for what brought this out.

  "Really?" In his anger, he rose to his feet and began to pace back and forth, "Because I'm not so sure anymore. I'm more than well aware how alike we look, and...by the void, I know what we share in common. Even our damn--" Cullen stopped and growled in his throat. "Is that what I am to you? A replacement for what you can't have?"


  "What? No, never," Lana struggled to get her legs off the couch, but pain flared up her hip. "You're not, you've never been, no..." She tried to catch his hand, but Cullen was too agitated to stop and it slipped past.

  "Then why do you keep acting as if I'll make the same choices he does? As if I'll make the same mistakes? Can you even see us as different people?"

  "I don't..." she swallowed her words, feeling the rise of tears brimming in her eyes. She had no idea why Cullen's decision to abandon the Inquisition cut her to the quick. It should make her happy to have the potential of him to herself, but all she felt when she thought upon it was a dread growing in her stomach. Shaking her head, Lana looked up at him, "I know you're two different people. You've always been..."

  Cullen sneered, his fingers gripping tight to each other, "Ten years, he and you for so long, even as close together and... what he did for you, without question? And I, no." Freezing in place, Cullen gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into his head. "No, no." He whipped his head back and forth, stomping away from Lana. "I have to get out of here, to think."

  She couldn't stop a sob racking her throat, a solitary one that ushered in a cascade of tears. "Cullen, I..."

  For a moment, he paused at the door and his eyes drifted over her stuck on the sofa. Scowling at the ground, he cracked open the door's handle and spat out, "I'm not him." Slamming the door, a deadly silence followed in his wake.

  Lana yearned to chase after him, to rise to her feet and try to explain, but even shifting her legs only brought more agony up her body. She bit down on the pain and tried anyway, a scream building at the back of her eyes. A single foot planted on the ground, then the other, but when she went to stand, her muscles melted like snow and Lana crashed to the ground. Her bruised hip and shoulder took most of it, digging into the cold stone floors. The tears wouldn't stop, dripping off her cheeks and splattering against the stone she couldn't rise off of.

  Inconsolable, Lana whispered to the empty air, "I know you're not him. I know it. You're not him. I...I don't want you to be."