Work Text:
She stomped through the halls of Skyhold, her hands fisted at her sides. It had been a bad day. A truly horrible day full of two-faced politicians and nobles that Josephine said she had to address, and judgments that Leliana said she had to address, and just general stupidity.
She’d rather be fighting demons than making nice with the people who had come to pester her today.
It didn’t help that a steady, heavy rain had been falling over Skyhold for days. The lack of sun was making her already foul mood dangerously worse. She had honestly asked Solas if there was a spell holding it in place. His lips had twitched, the equivalent of deep belly laughter, and assured her that, no, the storm was not a product of magic.
On top of it all, when her duties were finally done for the day and she tried to make the trek across the courtyard for a drink, an incoming cart of hay splattered her completely with mud. The driver had been terribly apologetic when he realized it was the Inquisitor he had covered in dirt and bracken, but that didn’t make it any better.
All she wanted in the world was a very hot bath and for her very handsome military commander to pound her into the mattress so hard that she couldn’t remember her own name let alone the procession of fools she had been forced to deal with today. Honestly, the Avvar with the goats? He apparently had another son. Who had brought more goats, which he had also thrown at the walls of Skyhold.
The bath had been taken care of. All traces of mud and annoyance had been scrubbed off her body and out of her hair.
Her lover, on the other hand, was not making himself easy to track down. She had seen him in passing today and managed to ask him to come to her rooms when he was done with his duties. They spent almost every night wrapped in each other’s arms but he still blushed like a boy when she asked him to spend time with her. He had agreed with a nod and a smirk of encouragement before Josephine had dragged her off to lunch with Comte Such and Such. Yet, her bath was finished and still, no Cullen.
She had gone in search of him, thinking maybe he lost track of time. But he wasn’t in the war room. He wasn’t in the training yard. She stomped through the rain to his tower, fortunately wearing a cloak this time so she wasn’t soaked to the bone, but he wasn’t there either.
A sentry was there however and she shot him a hard look.
“Where in the world is Commander Cullen?” She demanded.
The boy gulped nervously. “H…he said that he had an errand to run Milady.”
She sighed, trying to smile. “Did he say where he was running this errand?”
“The…the kitchens I believe your Grace.”
She immediately turned to leave before remembering that it wasn’t this boy’s fault she was in such a foul mood. “Thank you for your help.”
She trudged into the bowels of Skyhold towards the kitchens, her ire growing with every step. What in the world was Cullen doing in the kitchens of all places? Why wasn’t he with her? All she wanted was for his warm arms to chase away the idiocy of the day. Was that really so much to ask?
Finally the kitchens came into sight. She didn’t care what he was doing, he was finished now. She was going to grab him by the back of that fur collar and drag him after her if she had to.
She stomped into the room, planting her hands on her hips. “What in the world is going on here?”
Cullen’s head snapped up at her abrupt entrance, looking like the cat that ate the canary. He was covered in flour. His hair was almost white. Bowls littered the counters. He had one of them cradled in the crook of his arm and looked to be mixing it. The whole place was a mess.
“Inquisitor!” He exclaimed. “I…I wasn’t expecting you…so soon…” He glanced out the high window to see it was dark outside, then looked back at her, smirking guiltily.
Her brows were furrowed as she tried to understand what was going on. “What are you doing?”
He turned to face her fully and only then did she see that he was wearing an apron with the Inquisition crest on it. Over his armor and cloak.
Her lips twitched. “Well?” She prompted.
“I…I know the last several days have been rough on you. So…I wanted to…I mean I know you like chocolate so I…Maker’s breath…” He wiped a hand over his reddening face, unknowingly spreading even more flour on his skin.
She chuckled slightly. She couldn’t help herself.
Tension leaving her body, she walked over to him, picking up a towel as she went. When she reached him she gently took the bowl out of his arms, placing it on the counter. Then she cupped his face and began wiping the flour off of him. He closed his eyes, humming low in his throat at her gentle ministrations.
“What were you making?” She asked.
“Cookies. My grandmother’s recipe. Chocolate nut.”
His cheeks were clean but she let her fingers run over his skin a moment longer, tracing the scar on his lips with her index finger before she pulled away.
He opened his eyes slowly. She glanced at the bowl, curious now. She dipped a finger in and scooped out a generous dollop. She stuck her finger in her mouth, keeping eye contact as she licked it clean. She watched in satisfaction as his eyes darkened and he gulped hard. She pulled her finger from her mouth with a wet pop. She hummed contemplatively. “Not bad.”
He grinned. Her heart warmed at how happy simply pleasing her made him. She leant up on her toes, kissing him softly for a few minutes, letting him taste the chocolate on her lips. He growled happily, wrapping large hands around her waist.
She pulled away slowly, slightly flushed and breathless. “Not bad indeed. And very sweet. Thank you Cullen.”
H smiled. “Of course. Anything for you my love.”
Her cheeks warmed at the endearment. She cleared her throat. “However, what I really need is some alone time with my military Commander. To talk strategy.” She explained meaningfully.
His blush darkened his cheeks but he still managed to say, in a low and sultry voice, “I am at my Inquisitor’s disposal.”
She grinned. “Excellent.” She turned to lead him away before stopping suddenly to glance over her shoulder.
“Bring the batter.”