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Since the Inquisition had arrived at Skyhold, the fortress itself had been unseasonably warm despite being buried deep in the snow-covered Frostbacks. Even though Ferelden was in the throes of early winter, Skyhold seemed to be in a perpetual state of mid-autumn. Solas had given the Inquisitor the impression that it could attributed to residual magical energies throughout the fortress that gave it the illusion of being frozen in one season. Enansal actually rather enjoyed the semi-permanent autumn. Her only complaint was that some nights could become bitingly cold.
Even buried under several layers of furs and a fire roaring in the fireplace, the Inquisitor still felt cold at her desk. While she had promised herself to get through all of the reports that were currently piled atop her desk, the mental image of retiring early with a bed warmer under her mattress kept distracting her from her work. She sighed a little and returned her quill to its holder; she doubted she would be able to get anything else done for the night.
Just as she pushed herself to her feet, she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs leading up to her chambers. She turned towards the sound, a smile spreading across her face as she saw her Commander cresting the top.
He glanced her way, and paused on the top stair. Pink dusted his cheeks as he cleared his throat in embarrassment. “A-ah, Inquisitor. I thought you were meeting with Josephine to discuss your trip to the tailor next week.”
“We finished earlier than anticipated,” she explained, but then fixed him with an amused expression. “Yet you still came to my room, even while under the impression that I would not be present. Now, why is that?” she teased.
Cullen cleared his throat once more. “Well, I, er…” He sighed, and held up a brown paper package. “I wanted to leave these here as a surprise.”
She crossed the room to his side, taking the package from his hands; she tore through the paper to reveal a pair of supple leather gloves. The pale cream color reminded her of halla, and the green stitching around the cuffs could not be mistaken for anything but Dalish craftsmanship.
The Inquisitor let out a soft gasp and looked up at the Commander. “Oh, Cullen, you didn’t have to…”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” he said, sounding simultaneously amused and embarrassed. “Do you truly like them?” he then added, brow creasing a little in worry.
“Oh, I love them.” She smiled and pulled them on to emphasize her point. She then wrapped her arms around him, adding, “Thank you.”
He returned the embrace. “Of course, love.”
She sighed a little and snuggled a little against his chest. For once, he was dressed quite simply, with no armor pieces in sight. As such, she could feel the warmth radiating off of his person, and she much preferred this heat source to the piles of furs she had abandoned at the desk. After a few moments, Cullen began to pull away, and Enansal let out something of a whine.
“No, wait, I’m freezing. You should come closer.”
At that, he chuckled a little. “I thought you specialized in frost magic, my dear.”
“Just because I wield the element does not mean I enjoy the accompanying change in temperature.”
Cullen laughed again. “As my lady commands. Give me just a moment.” He finally left her embrace, and moved to drag the loveseat across the floor to place it in front of the fireplace. He then recovered the furs from Enansal’s chair and piled them up on the cushions. “Here. Perhaps we should sit here together for a while.”
Enansal smiled faintly, and joined him. Once they were seated and wrapped up in some of the furs, the Inquisitor leaned against his shoulder. “This is nice…”
“Yes, it is.”
“I love you.”
“And I you.”