Jun 15, 2020
“Papa, why you come home late.”
I’m sorry.
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“Papa, why you come home late.”
I’m sorry.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Mage Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Female Mage Trevelyan, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Human Inquisitor Additional Tags: Future Fic, Next-Gen Summary:
“I wanted to join the Templars. My father said no.”
She'd left Skyhold looking for answers. She hadn't expected the ones she'd found.
Let’s go, papa!
Not only loving husband, but protective father.
Rutherford Family.
That’s just...I use too much energy to add the little ones!
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Rutherford family.
I found that drawing their family is a hard work. I’ll paint it later.
In A Templar’s Arms
(Cullen x Lavellan) Â Â
Pre-Trespasser DLC, so no spoilers.
Short, shameless dad!Cullen. In my headcanon, Falere and Cullen eventually wind up with three rough and tumble girls and a timid little boy. Â Falere comes to terms with her children being more of a reflection of their father than her elven heritage.
Getting back into the swing of fanfic, so I thought I’d post a bit of something I’ve had laying around for ages.
Check out my other stuff here. Â =)
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She’d handled giving birth to their first child with the same level of fight she gave to everything. Her cries rebounded off the walls of the room like shouts in the heat of battle.  After, looking into her daughter’s blinking eyes, she’d laughed haggardly and said, “You almost got the best of me there, little one.”
Cullen reached out to touch the downy strawberry-blonde hair barely visible atop his daughter’s head…and halted.  He didn’t know how to hold a child, almost everything he’d ever held had been a weapon or shield.  The chantry had commanded the items he wielded be regulated, ordained, addictive or turned against a foe.  He’d only newly learned to love, to caress, to relish.  His prayers of late had been whispered, not commanded, to no Maker but the woman who had remade his heart into something whole.  Their new-found worship, their deepening intimacy, had led to the child in her arms, but beyond that knowledge he knew nothing of how to proceed.
Seeing his hesitation, she’d taken his extended hand and gently pulled him towards her. Â
“Here, silly.  Like this.”