Work Text:
“This is ridiculous.”
Reyna was inclined to agree, eyeing the outfit laid out on Cullen’s bed with barely concealed distaste. Another reason she was glad not to be part of the delegation leaving for Halamshiral in a fortnight.
“The boots are nice,” she offers. It does not sound as convincing as she’d like.
Cullen lets out a small sigh. “The uniform is the least of our concerns. Still, all this unnecessary pomp and ceremony…”
She nods her agreement. Their mutual dislike for most (Cullen was reluctant to say all) things Orlesian could be very refreshing at times. Her fingers brush along the rich fabric, admiring the silky-smooth texture. Idly, she wonders just how much gold the lady Inquisitor spent on these atrocities. “Does it fit?”
“I suppose. I have not tried it yet.”
Her lips curl into a smirk that sends heat rising to his cheeks. “What are you waiting for, then?”
“You mean…Now?” He clears his throat. “I’m not sure this is the right time…”
She has to fight back an urge to roll her eyes. It both vexed and amused her, how he still worried about propriety. He had shown her time and again exactly how inappropriate he could be, as she loved to remind him.
“Adjustments might be needed. It’s better to check now, don’t you think?” She spins on her heel. “There. I promise not to look.”
His gaze lingers on her backside longer than it should. “Yes. Thank you.”
Reyna waves him off, fully aware it’s not the uniform that has his attention. She only hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. It wasn’t fair he got to enjoy the view while she was staring at a bloody wall.
She hears the rustling of clothes falling on the floor.
All it would take was a glance over her shoulder. A single glance. The idea was a tempting one and she was not a patient woman.
“Andraste’s flaming sword, where does this go?”
The corners of her mouth pull up in another self-satisfied smile. “I’m right here, if you need help…”
He does not miss the devious edge in her voice. It is…not unwelcome. “Help would be much appreciated.”
She finds him fumbling with an unnecessarily long sash, brow furrowed and lips pressed together in a thin line.
The uniform suits him, that’s for certain. The trousers were a little too tight perhaps, but the overall result was very pleasing to the eye. It doesn’t surprise her. Only Cullen could pull off this hideous red coat.
“Well…” Reyna saunters up to him, clear blue eyes glinting mischievously. “Let me see what I can do.”
Cullen barely notices when she takes the silken cloth from his hands. It is hard to remain focused when she’s so close. She drapes the sash over his shoulder, and she has to stand on her tiptoes to reach. Her nose brushes against his neck, the spicy scent of her hair filling his nostrils.
“You smell very nice,” he mutters, so quiet she almost misses it.
“Thank you.” She winks at him as she wraps the sash around his waist. “It’s cinnamon.”
She takes the ends and ties them into a loose knot above his right hip. “I think we’re done with this,” she says, stepping back to take a better look at him.
Once again she is stricken by how handsome he is. How soft his lips look, the warm brown of his eyes, the stubble he spent an inordinate amount of time grooming…Surely he would attract many an admirer at the Winter Palace.
A familiar pang of jealousy gnaws at the back of her mind and she lowers her eyes, silently cursing herself for being so pathetic.
Her sudden shift of mood does not go unnoticed. Cullen’s palm is rough on her cheek, but gentle. Always gentle. “Is something bothering you?”
“No,” she replies with a feigned smile. “I’m just a little tired is all.”
It is a lie of course, and he knows it. He knows she needs space – and time. Like he does. “As you say. But Reyna…” His fingers graze lightly along the side of her face. “Please know that you can tell me anything. Whatever you need, I hope…I hope we can find it together.”
She sighs, leaning into his touch. “I know. I appreciate it, Cullen.” Her hand squeezes his as she closes the distance between them. “And I think I already found it.”