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It all began one afternoon, when after returning from her travels to Hinterlands, Inquisitor Trevelyan entered the Commander's office, holding something in her hands.
It was a stone; an orange-ish stone that she placed in his hands after he complied with her request of him stretching them forward.
At first he was surprised — that was the first time a woman has ever given him a gift. And though he honestly appreciated the gesture, Cullen had no clue about what to do with it or even why she was gifting him.
“It's an amber,” she said enthusiastically when he went silent. “A man was selling these, and when I looked at it, I immediately thought they matched the color of your eyes… so I bought it for you.”
“Oh—” he gasped in surprise, his cheeks flushing at the thought of the Inquisitor thinking about him.
“T—thank you, Inquisitor. That's very…” he stammered. “Nice. Of you,” his eyes raised from the amber to her gaze; cheeks gaining a new shade of red as he was met with a childish grin.
Cullen couldn't help but bring his hand to the back of his neck and brush it as he awkwardly shifted his weight over his feet.
An uncomfortable silence fell upon them as none made any attempt to move.
He expected her to say something, but nothing came out of her lips after his words of gratitude. She didn't give him any signs of leaving his office, neither.
Decided to break the silence that lingered in the room, his eyes found its way back to her figure, only to see his courage fade away when he met an expectant look.
“Is—” he cleared his throat as the words got stuck in it. “Is there something wrong?”
Then, as if a spell had been broken, Evelyn's sheepish smile gave way to a stern expression; looking almost disappointed as she took a step back and said rather hastily, “Yes— I mean, no!” her gaze wandered off.
“Sorry for bothering you.”
With those words, she turned away and rushed off his office, not stopping when Cullen called out for her.
He was left there, his voice meeting the vacant spot where she had been standing, and his confused expression as he watched her figure disappear in the distance.
The event repeated once again, and a few more times over the following two months.
Evelyn had brought him many different gifts: an expansive quill, new boots, cake, cookies, a wooden miniature of a mabari, among other things.
And no matter the nature of the gift, or how exotic it was — the conclusion was always the same: Cullen would thank her, and silence would fall soon after— she was always bearing the same expectancy in her eyes that would disappear as soon as the Commander prompted her if something was wrong or if there was anything else she needed.
She always ran away through the same door.
###
“She is courting you,” Dorian lowered the book he had been reading, not containing the smirk on his lips as he gazed Cullen with curiosity.
He furrowed his brows, not sure what the mage had meant — of course he knew what ‘courting’ meant, but he found it hard to believe that the Inquisitor would be courting him when there were plenty of people for her to choose.
“Did she tell you that?”
“If she did or she did not, it's not my place to tell,” he smiled at himself when he noticed the squint forming in the Commander's eyes. “So suspicious already!”
Cullen grunted — of course Dorian was having fun at the expanse of his frustration.
It was a mistake to come to him, of all people, for help; the only thing he had received from the man was a mockery and plenty of smirks.
Dorian must've noticed his brooding (or more specifically, Cullen's frown), for he sighed as he closed the book he had been previously reading.
“The Trevelyans have deep roots in the Chantry, especially in the Templar Order— her brothers are all templars, her father was a templar, and so is most of her family,” he began, his words catching Cullen with interest. “And as it is so, she is quite aware of ancient traditions from the Order,” at that he stopped briefly, hoping to not have to explain the rest.
When there was no reaction that showed the former templar's acknowledgment (and instead he only crossed his arms, impatiently waiting for the Tevinter to go on), Dorian sighed and shook his head.
“You, my friend, are a hopeless man,” his words earned him a scornful look, which he ignored as his voice raised once again. “One of such traditions is that when a lady gives a knight a gift, the man must—”
He didn't need to continue.
Cullen blushed and rushed off the tower, silent as the cool breeze.
###
He was pacing his office since he heard the horn from the gates announcing the Inquisitor's arrival. He was waiting for her.
Evelyn had been gone for two weeks — not a long period, surely, but enough for Cullen's anxiety to make its lair in his veins; he had planned it, acted his reaction, to whatever would turn out to be her gift, in front of the mirror; he knew exactly what to do.
But she didn't come.
He cast a glance over the medium-sized crate that laid over his desk, only waiting for her.
But she didn't come, no matter how long he waited.
Had she given up on him? Grew tired of his always clueless expression?
Maker's breath, he hadn't even cogitated the possibility of such!
He needed to find her, to let her know that he wasn't being stiff on purpose.
There was an old tradition in the Order: that when a lady would give a knight a gift, the said knight would thank her with a chaste kiss on her cheek.
And Cullen knew that, but he had completely forgotten — for one due he had never ever received a gift from a lady, then because it just never occurred to his mind that the Inquisitor could know such or even expect him to react to it.
But he wouldn't be so absent-minded this time.
With haste, Cullen took the crate under his arm and left his office.
He marched through Skyhold towards her room, not bothering to knock when he stood before her door.
He went up the stairs —taking two steps at once— until he caught sight of Evelyn Trevelyan's figure sitting on the edge of her bed, her eyes focused as she stared at something in her hands, something he couldn't see what was.
“Your Worship,” his voice startled her; her hands immediately going to her back, as if she was caught doing something wrong.
“Co—commander!” she stuttered, widened eyes as she gazed at him. “What are you—”
But before she could finish her question, Cullen put the crate over her bed, her lips sealing as she watched with curiosity the Commander busying himself with the box, and taking advantage of his distraction, she hid the object she had been holding under her pillow, recollecting her composure when he suddenly turned to her.
“Give me your hands,” he requested.
“This is—” her eyes widened again as he reached for her hand and put a stone over her palm. She immediately recognized the amber she had given him.
Was he giving it back?
There was sadness in her irises as she looked up at him, her lips too afraid to ask about the meaning of his actions.
Yet surprise soon crawled over her mind upon noticing his sun-kissed eyes staring her face with such intensity that she couldn't help but blush. The feeling grew when he sat on the bed, just before her, and rested his hands over her shoulders.
She could see now something in his gaze— something she couldn't quite place as she watched his pupils dilate.
And if he hadn't surprised her enough already, she became euphoric when he leaned towards her and she felt his lips brushing softly over her cheekbones, his action intensifying the red pigment in her skin.
It was fast, but it left her speechless nonetheless, especially when his hoarse voice resonating a "thank you" against her blushing.
Maker's breath, the warm feeling that a simple kiss conjured inside her veins… and how she immediately lingered for his touch!
But now he had pulled away and his attention was back to the crate — a quill being placed on her palms now, and this time she wasn't startled when he moved forward and reached her face, the opposite cheek now. The lack of the surprise element didn't make it any less sweet, any less hot.
His actions repeated over and over again as he pulled out objects off the crate and placed them over her hand, and she couldn't help but notice that he did such in the exact order in which he had received such gifts.
These two months and he still remembered…! And he kept each one of them (obviously with the exception of the food, for which he thanked her with a kiss anyway). Cullen kept even the most useless things (she had to admit she was running out of ideas).
“I thought you…” she started as the realization fell upon her and she couldn't help but feel amused, bewitched.
Evelyn had thought she was making an utter fool of herself, that she was coming off just as a crazy woman and her gifts were only bothering him; yet she couldn't bring herself to stop giving him things as she was too shy to tell him her feelings in any other manner.
Did he notice it?
When Evelyn raised her gaze back at him, he hushed the words from coming off as he placed his index finger on her lips.
“Shh, I haven't finished yet,” he whispered in a husky tone, his pupils dilated in such manner that his eyes were no longer amber-colored, but dark as the void. And she understood then, what she had noticed in his gaze before and couldn't quite place at the time.
She gave him a sheepish look before he could return his attention to the crate. “My cheeks are hurting already— I don't think they can bear any more kisses, Ser.”
He chuckled under his breath as his hand —the one that had shushed her before— cupped her face and he straightened his back to get taller, enough so he could place a kiss on her forehead.
“I guess we'll have to take care of that,” his dark eyes stared back at her, and he smirked as his hands reached for hers, and, with one motion, he made her let go of the objects, the gifts rolling out of her palms and falling over the carpet on her floor.
He then started to thank her all over again.
Lust.
That's what she wasn't able to name at first, but she could now— clear as day as his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her neck. His kisses being placed along the line of her throat as he named each gift she had given him, in the correct order, and stole soft moans from her mouth as he took his time showing her his gratitude.
Cullen had long stopped thanking her; she was sure he had covered all the gifts already, but that didn't make him stop his lips. No— his kisses continued for some time; taking off her gloves when he had covered every spot of her neck; every touch sending a wave of heat down her veins, making her long for more.
Evelyn was starting to lose her mind under his warmth, and though she didn't want to let go of him, there was something more that she needed to do before anything else.
“Cullen, wait—” she said when he was about to start his smooching session on her other arm, her words making him stop immediately.
He pulled himself away, giving her space as she moved her body to the side and her hands searched for something under her pillow.
A small velvet box laid on her palms, she stretched her arms to him, making Cullen cast a curious gaze at her.
“My last gift,” she said.
“Last? You're not going to give me any more presents?”
At that, she smiled sheepishly, “Aren't you being spoiled enough, Commander?”
He returned a grin.
Without saying anything, he took his gauntlets off before taking the box off her hands, fearing his heavy armor would make opening the gift an impossible task, or that his clumsiness would even ruin such small object.
He was as delicate as he could be when he opened its cover; his amber eyes widening at the sight of what lied inside.
A pendant — shaped in the form of a lion's head, which was roaring fiercely with its golden-color.
Cullen wondered if it was really made of gold— not that he cared about such luxury, but he could imagine Evelyn spending lots of money just to pleasure someone.
“Did you like it?” she bore that expectant look in her expression, the same look she gave him every time she gifted him; but this time he wouldn't let her go without properly thanking her.
However, he was stopped in his tracks before he could even start to move, as Evelyn pleaded him to wait.
He watched with obedience her raising her hands to her own neck, taking off the thin golden chain she always wore. He complied without wasting a second when she prompted him to give her the lion pendant.
She attached the ornament to the chain, smiling, prideful, as she moved closer to him and laced the chain around his neck. She fastened the chain's clasp and spun it until the clasp was hidden behind his nape.
“It matches you,” she smiled sheepishly as she started to move back to her previous spot, but Cullen precluded her from doing so, holding both her forearms as his lustful eyes gazed at her.
“I loved it”, he whispered as he pulled her to him— placing a hand on her back as the other cupped her cheeks enough for him to lean over and take her lips in his.
At first, Evelyn was surprised, but she soon returned the kiss, moaning inside his lips and making way for him to deep his wanting.
She pulled him over her, then, leaning her back on the mattress as his hand went from her lumbar to her hair, holding it tight as he broke the contact of their mouths and brushed his way down her chin, towards her collar bone.
Her hands busied themselves with the clasps of his armor, as he started to unbutton her shirt.
If Cullen would thank her like that from now on, she would go bankrupt with buying him gifts.