#culllen rutherford

“Let me help you with that.” Dragon Age prompt for Bearly_Tolerable and DWC @dadrunkwriting Rating: Teen. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Valina Voclain Word Count: 1,529. Tags: Fluff, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Pre-Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt, DWC.

[Click here to read it on AO3]

Scarred

By Roksana Lyasin

Cullen scratched a few more notes on the page, the margins filled to bursting with annotations. He lifted the quill for a moment, glancing at the half composed letter on his desk and shifted his focus to add another sentence, wanting to make sure his weekly summary report to the Inquisitor was as detailed and up to date as possible.

He glanced at his hand, at the streaks of ink that marked his skin. His gloves would have protected him from the tedious process of washing off the stains later, but there was something about the feeling of a quill in his fingertips that he found soothing.

He lifted his head when a sharp knock sounded on the middle door to his office but it swung open before he could answer. His pen stuttered on the page, ink spilling from the nib as she sauntered into the room, serpentstone gaze instantly capturing him.

He couldn’t describe the hold she had on him, except to say it was vice-like in nature, a force that could not be denied. He should be used to this now, used to her after weeks of these exchanges, yet still, he found himself stumbling over his thoughts with the barest look.

‘I have some reports for you, fresh from Leliana’s lair,’ she said, a wicked curl on her lips that kicked his heart into gear. Those red lips… the things they whispered over the chess table, the way they twisted his words, words he thought were innocent, turning them into something suggestive, something sultry. The way she seemed to savour his name.

Maker, will I ever be able to look at her without feeling this way?

He returned the quill to the inkwell before even more ink could flood the ruined page.

‘Ah, My Lady, thank you,’ he said, rising from his chair as she approached. He expected her to lean on the front of the desk but Valina was never one to follow expectations.

She moved to his side, settling on the edge. When she flicked glossy black curls over her shoulder her soft rosy scent drifted to him, teasing his senses. He fought the urge to inhale deeply, to relish the tantalising aroma.

‘Oh, Commander, what must I do to get you to call me Valina?’

‘I– is that what you would prefer?’

‘I think I’ll like the way it rolls of your tongue.’

Cullen opened his mouth but the words caught in his throat. He snapped his attention to the pile of letters in her hand and well away from her lips, from the tongue that swept over the plump flesh–

‘You said you had some reports for me?’

Valina stood, stepping closer to offer the pages to him. He expected the brush of her fingertips, but not the searing warmth that danced across his skin on contact, nor the answering heat that curled in her gaze. He knew she heard the small hitch in his breath, then, saw the subtle tension that weighed on his brow. She caught everything, read all the minute emotions that passed over his face and danced in his voice.

Cullen settled back into his chair, turning his attention to the pages. He skimmed through the reports that had arrived from all over Thedas. He would be able to squeeze them into his letter and send off a raven before dark. He paused on one, a location in Orlais – where exactly was that mountain again? It must be in that book – and placed the reports on his desk.

‘Thank you, my–’ he cleared his throat, standing– ‘Valina. Thank you, Valina.’

He tried to move around her in the small space behind his desk to reach his bookcase but even turning his body his arm brushed against her shoulder, and he paused when she hissed out a breath.  

‘Valina?’

‘Yes?’ she said, a smile on her lips. He’d grown to recognise the mask she put on, had seen her wear it in the face of others, but so rarely did she use it on him.

‘Valina, are you hurt?’

‘It’s nothing.’

He’d seen her take a fist to the stomach from Bull in the training ring, and he did not pull his punches. She’d hardly flinched, then. To see her do so with the mere brush of his arm against her shoulder…

‘Clearly not,’ he said, the book forgotten as he turned back to her.

Valina settled against his desk again, deft fingers pulling at the laces on the loose collar of her tunic to reveal further glimpses of bronzed skin.

Colour flamed on his cheeks, tongue stumbling over his words as he said, ‘oh, no, I meant–’

Valina paused, that wicked smirk on her lips again as she said, ‘relax, Commander. I know I’ve not convinced you to let me strip for you. Yet.’

She eased the loose collar over her left shoulder, his eyes drawn to a bloodied cloth. She peeled it away, gritting her teeth against the pain as she revealed the angry red slash. The jagged cut ran along the top of her shoulder, curving down her to her bicep where it finally tapered away.

‘Maker, Valina, why haven’t you been to a healer?’ Cullen said as he darted to his bookcase. He rummaged through a few boxes, finding his supply of elfroot balm.

‘I only returned an hour ago. Between debriefing with Josephine and bringing you these reports, I’ve not had time.’

‘The reports could have waited.’

‘You know I’ll take any excuse to see you, especially if I can make you blush.’

Cullen snatched his hand back down before he could rub at the back of his neck, focusing on the bottle in his other hand. He popped the cork out, holding it away from her when she reached for it.

‘Just… let me help you with that, all right?’

Valina watched him for a moment, serpentstone gaze assessing him, but she nodded her assent and he moved closer. He poured some of the poultice onto his fingers, the bitter smell biting at his senses after being surrounded by the sweet aroma of roses.

‘What happened?’

‘Bandits,’ she said, and he heard the venom in her voice, ‘they’re a plague on the highway, unlike anything I’ve seen since the Blight.’

‘How many?’

‘I lost count at fifteen.’

‘Fifteen?’

She scoffed. ‘That’s child’s play for me. A warm up. If not for a skilled mercenary that was tagging along in their caravan – who hid for the better part of the fight, the coward – I would have walked away entirely unscathed.’

Cullen shook his head, though one corner of his lip twitched in a smile, impressed by her gall.

‘This is going to hurt,’ he said, giving her a moment to brace before he pressed the thick balm into her wound. A breath hissed through her teeth, as before, but she stood firm, even pushed into his touch.

He worked quickly, smoothing the poultice over her wound and the surrounding skin, trying to be gentle, but the last time they’d been this close was the day she’d arrived at Skyhold, sauntering up the stairs and practically leant against his chest. He couldn’t help but steal a glance at her profile, tracing the pert tip of her nose, the soft curve of her bronzed cheek, the plump curl of her lips, and the way soft waves of her hair fell around her face–

Cullen glanced away when she lifted her serpentstone gaze, clearing his throat. ‘That should help with the pain and reducing the scarring, but it would be a good idea to go see a healer or even Solas.’

‘And here I thought scars were sexy.’

She captured him again and he fell into the serpentstone jewels, lost in the mischief that lit her gaze. It took all his willpower – failing, though it might be – to drag his eyes away from her.

‘Just… go see a healer,’ he said, returning the cork to the bottle, keeping his fingers busy as he resisted the urge to reach for her again, ‘please.’

He felt her studying him as she smoothed the cloth over the wound and righted her tunic collar, noting the glances he stole – always drawn to her eyes.

A soft smile curled her lips. ‘Well, since you asked so nicely…’

She pushed off from the desk, stepping closer. He’d never get used to this, he knew, this tempting nearness, the desires that flared deep in his gut as she trailed her fingers over his cuirass, the metal singing as her nails scraped along the surface. He’d have to get used to that wicked serpentstone gaze that captivated his attention before it dropped to his scar, and she traced her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, the action so fast he thought he was seeing things, hoping, wanting.

Valina glanced over her shoulder as she walked back towards the middle door. ‘See you later, handsome.’

Shameless repost of a fic I just edited. Enjoy!

Read it on Ao3

He’s curled up in a ball of misery in one corner of a glowing blue cage, alone now. How many days has it been since the last of his friends were taken? Two? Five? Ten? He can’t count them anymore.

He’s thirsty. They bring him water, but it’s never enough. And lyrium, he hasn’t had any in–in Maker only knows.  The need for the drug has settled into a gut-deep ache, yet another torment to add to the list.

At least the screams have stopped. Maker, he never wants to hear such sounds ever again, so filled with terror and pain. He shivers in his armor, his shaking body sending the heavy plates clanking against each other.

He winces at the sound. They’ll be back soon, and the whispers in his head will start again. Who knows what new torments the demons have in mind for him. His expression tightens, and his mouth flattens into a grim line. By the Maker, whatever they test him with next, he will resist!

Sometimes, when the moon is in the seventh house... and jupiter aligns with mars...

I can actually draw something decent. 

I’m almost mad, because it’s almost worst when you can “randomly” draw something pretty decently good and then the rest of the time its just pbbbth crappity crap. 

Anyway, this is a WIP only in the fact that I will look at it tomorrow and probably find ten million things wrong with it and never touch it again,