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“I had a dream last night.” Ellana remarked as she unceremoniously slid onto a barstool next to Dorian and Bull, dripping half-melted snow on the tavern floor. The snow had been falling thick and fast since dinnertime, making traversing the courtyard a difficult task.
As a result of the blizzard, the Herald’s Rest was unusually quiet this evening, with only the most determined drinkers stumbling their way through the door. Ellana was thankful for the solitude; she had been eagerly trying to find Dorian all day so she could tell him about her dream. It had seemed so real…
“Most of us have dreams, Boss.” Bull grunted as he leaned onto the bar, settling his weight on his forearms. “Except for maybe Varric, and even then, he might be lying. Where else would he get some of those crazy ideas for his books?”
Ellana waited until Cabot put a tankard down in front of her and left before she responded.
“It wasn’t a regular dream, Bull. It was one of those… sexy dreams.” She whispered the words lowly, despite no one being around. “The kind where you wake up frustrated and angry because it ended at the worst possible moment.” Despite speaking in a low, almost embarrassed tone, she didn’t blush. She had been exchanging blunt drinking stories with Bull and Dorian for so long, she didn’t think she knew how to blush anymore.
Bull grunted in understanding and took a long swig of his beer. “Get those all the time.”
“And now I’m curious.” Dorian remarked, ignoring Bull’s comment. He arched a dark eyebrow as he spoke, one hand lazily resting around his tankard of Ferelden beer. “What happens in the Blessed Herald of Andraste’s ‘sexy’ dreams?”
“Well.” She replied, distractedly tugging a long ear. “I dreamt of Cullen.”
Dorian and Bull exchanged smug looks. Ellana pointedly ignored them and took a long pull of her beer before setting it back on the polished bar.
“I dreamt that I was back home in a Free Marches, in a grove where my clan used to let the hallas graze. I was sitting in the grass, picking the wide pieces so I could make grass whistles… “ She put her thumbs together in illustration and Dorian nodded as if he had actually done such a thing.
“Anyway, I was thinking about Cullen as I was trying to get the grass between my thumbs, and then suddenly, he was there. I remember thinking, ‘There’s the guy! There he is in that dumb, fluffy coat.’ I asked him to take it off. He did, and that was pretty great. So then I asked him to take off his armor. So he did.”
Dorian nodded. “I can see where this is going.”
Ellana pointed at him as if to say ‘you got it’.
“Eventually, he was standing there stark naked, all smug and beautiful. So I… hm.” She tapped her lips, trying to think of a way to describe the experience. “I showed him how appreciative I was of all his hard work.” She replied, nodding to herself as if it was an excellent turn of phrase. “Apparently…” She leaned in as if telling them a secret. “Dream Cullen is quite affectionate.”
Dorian beamed, a bright genuine thing. “How adorably vanilla.”
Ellana sniffed and sat back upright on the stool, lifting the tankard with both hands so she could take another drink. “Yes, well. We don’t all dream of riding crops and gags.”
“Shame.” Bull grunted.
As Ellana swallowed her ale, her sharp ears heard the sound of tavern door open and close behind her. Another brave soul must have flailed through the courtyard’s deep snow, as desperate for company as she had been.
Dorian took a polite sip of his beer, his brightly amused eyes watching her over the top of the tankard. “So, this isn’t the part where you tell us it ended up as some god-awful nightmare?”
“Creators, no. It was so good.” She propped her chin up on her fist. “I was even tempted to forgive the fact that he showed up in that big, dumb coat of his.”
She took a large gulp of beer, her expression blissful and her eyes happily unfocused as she reminisced.
Suddenly, from directly behind her, she heard a low, familiar voice.
“Pardon me. Inquisitor?”
She knew that voice.
Oh, shit.
He was behind her.
Ellana tried to yelp and swallow her drink at the same time, which resulted in her coughing on the sip of beer she had just gulped down. It took a good ten seconds of inelegant sputtering before she managed to get herself under control, all the while conscious of her friends’ gaze on her.
“Yes, Commander?” She wheezed out eventually. Her eyes were still watering as she turned on her stool to face him.
“Are you alright?” Cullen asked kindly, his warm brown eyes watching her with concern. He was dressed as usual, in his full set of armor, with a single piece of parchment rolled in one gloved hand. The warm, golden light of the tavern gave him an almost holy appearance, while the snowflakes melting on his fur-lined coat made Ellana want to reach over and gently brush them away, if only as an excuse to touch him.
Creators, he looked beautiful.
Ellana, in turn, hastily wiped the beer from her jacket, trying not to look quite so … damp. Her own dark hair had fuzzed up from the melted snow, adding to her disheveled appearance.
“I am. Alright. …I am alright.” She replied, feeling her copper-coloured cheeks warm into an unpleasant shade of red.
As the blush intensified, Ellana silently cursed, feeling Dorian and Bull’s gleeful smiles behind her. Damn them. They must have seen Cullen enter the Herald’s Rest as she was talking at them about her dream. That explained why Dorian had been smirking so hard over his beer.
“You asked for information on the Venatori in the Hissing Wastes as soon as possible.” Cullen continued courteously, as if he hadn’t noticed her bumbling. “Scout Harding has just sent an update. Would you like me to leave it with you, or shall I put it on your desk?”
“You can leave it with me.” Ellana remarked, reluctant to make her commander do the job of a messenger. He held out the missive and she took it with fumbling hands.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. Have a good evening, Inquisitor.” Cullen smiled down at her with a surprisingly affectionate look, and Ellana found herself staring back at his scarred lips with a sense of familiarity. It was the exact same smile that Dream Cullen had given her the night before – a sort of tender half-grin that she could never get enough of.
“Good night, Commander.” Ellana remarked, belated remembering her manners. “Be careful out there in the snowstorm.”
“Thank you.” He paused, his brow furrowing. “I should be fine, although I see you didn’t bring a coat.” A moment’s pause followed before he shrugged out of his fur-trimmed coat and set it carefully over her slim shoulders. The warm garment buried her almost completely, surrounding her in woolen warmth and Cullen’s faint scent.
Ellana’s mouth dropped open in surprise as he grinned playfully at her. Judging by his sly look, he had heard exactly what she had said about his coat. His ugly, regal coat.
“I’ll see you at the War Table tomorrow.” He remarked lowly, his voice laced with amusement and more of that delicious affection. Silently, he turned and left the tavern before Ellana had recovered her wits.
When the tavern door shut, Ellana made a noise reminiscent of a kicked cat and sat sullenly on the stool, nearly buried in maroon wool and fur. She didn’t look over to her friends to see what they thought; she could hear their matching chuckles.
“Void take me.” She cursed, shrinking down into the coat she loved to hate. “How much do you think he heard?”
Bull signaled Cabot for another drink and turned to face her. “If I told you it was when you started talking about riding crops and gags, would you believe me?”
“You asshole. He didn’t hear that – did he?” She frantically looked over the fur collar at the door, wondering if she should go find him in the snowy courtyard and apologize for undoubtedly scandalizing the poor, pious man.
“He didn’t hear that. I think all he heard was ‘big, dumb coat’. I just wanted to make you sweat a little.”
“Bull.” She scowled hard. “You… you butt.” She seethed ineffectually. “Meet me at the ring tomorrow. I will stamp down a circle in the snow and kick your ever-loving ass from here to Par Vollen.”
Bull laughed, loud and appreciative.
“A grumpy elven mage against a quinari with a battleaxe as tall as her head?” He chuckled, taking a deep swig. “Oh, you’re on, Boss.”
Ellana grinned fiercely, although the effect was slightly diluted by the soft, fluffy coat that hung around her shoulders and the fact that her feet couldn’t even reach the floor. “Excellent. I’ll wear my big girl pants and everything.”
Bull made a wordless noise of approval. “Do they even make those for elves?”
Ellana barked a short laugh. “You’ll find out tomorrow.”