Work Text:
When Cullen’s lips crashed against hers, Enansal felt as if time itself had stopped.
After months with the Inquisition, she had come to realize that she was attracted to the man that commanded her troops. He was quite handsome, to be sure, but that wasn’t what had drawn the Dalish woman to him.
He was brave and strong and incredibly intelligent. He was also very kind, and she often felt that he was one of the few people that actually saw her as a person, and not just as the supposed Herald of Andraste. Even now that she had claim to the title of “Inquisitor,” she felt as if Cullen gave her opportunities to simply just be “Enansal.”
And, if she were being perfectly honest, Cullen reminded her so much of a lover she had had before she had left the Free Marches. A part of her felt guilty for thinking it, for even imagining that she might be able to move on. But a larger part of her knew that Garrick would rather that she find another chance at happiness. After all, that was what he always strived towards.
She hadn’t expected Cullen to reciprocate her feelings, of course. Despite the fact that Cullen seemed to understand that Enansal was more than the Herald, she knew that he would still respect the fact that, for all intents and purposes, that she was his superior. He had even admitted as much not a few minutes earlier. But she had also feared that, with his Templar training, he would never be able to ever fully trust a mage such as herself. She also feared that he could not care for an elf.
But with his lips on hers, cutting off her attempt at an escape, and his hands holding her face, it chased the doubt from her mind. Although Cullen had been interrupted just moments before, this kiss spoke volumes, and spoke more than any other declaration of his feelings could have achieved.
This kiss carried with it all of Cullen’s fears and trepidation. It carried his unspoken desires. It told her that even if Cullen saw himself as just one person, he would still protect her, cherish her. But it was also a silent question.
Could you possibly love me, too?
Enansal closed her eyes and allowed her fumbling hands to find purchase on Cullen’s waist, the fingers curling into the material of his coat.
Of course.