For a quizzie that never managed to romance anyone, but always had a crush on a certain handsome someone. And is a talkative drunk.
1068 words
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The Inquisitor, her inner circle and most of Skyhold celebrated the defeat of Corypheus by getting absolutely smashed. The wine flowed, Maraas-Lok was choked down by a brave few, and casks of ale were emptied nearly as fast as they were breached. During the night, Evelyn disappeared from the great hall of the keep. As the most sober companion, Cullen was dispatched to find the rogue. The commander had a feeling he’d find the woman near his tower, likely humming some tune while spinning a dagger absently.
She was indeed where he pictured her, out on the wall beyond his quarters. Instead of standing though, she sat on inner wall and loomed over the courtyard. Cullen ambled over the gateway between the main hall and his tower, not worrying now that she was found.
“I could jump off this and be totally fine y’know,” she slurred. He had walked up behind her quietly, yet she still heard him approach.
“Inquisitor, I don't think that's wise.”
Evelyn waved a hand back towards him. “Oh I've done it before. All the time. Some kind of Skyhold magicky thing. Can’t do it anywher’lse. Hurts.” He shook his head and smiled.
A moment passed before she spoke again, and in a much clearer tone. “I'm always hoping you'll say it.”
“Say what?” Cullen moved to stand next to her and leaned forward on his elbows, hands clasped over the edge.
She scoffed as if he was the one who was failing the conversation. “ My name.” She looked over and caught his eye. “It's Evelyn you know. Evelyn Trevelyan. My parents were soooo clever.” She furrowed her brow and spoke gruffly. ”Last daughter? Oh, sod it.”
Cullen chuckled at her attempt to mimic a man’s voice. “Of course I know your name.”
“Mmmmm in my head you say it. Alllll the time.” She leaned backwards, fingers gripping the stone by her knees, and looked up at the stars. Cullen realized she wasn’t wearing her jacket in the chilly mountain air. In fact, she was down to an undershirt and quite cold by the look of her goose-pimpled arms.
“Are you shivering? Where's your shirt?”
She groaned. “It was hot and so tight. S’over there.” She lazily gestured behind her where there was no clothing to be found. Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose and after taking a deep breath, took off his surcoat.
He placed it over her shoulders, then hopped up on the wall to sit with her. “I’ll be in trouble if you fall ill on my watch.”
Evelyn winked then smoothed the fur like one would pet a house cat. “That's nice. Tit’so weird tho. Didn't think it came off.” She leaned over and flicked her middle finger against his metal plate. “ I bet there's armor under that armor.”
He laughed. “What?”
“Like, you know --strip you down and then poof! there's suddenly more armor? Never ending layers of armor.” She mimed throwing piece after piece of clothing over their shoulders.
“That's--” He rubbed the back of his exposed neck absently. “You’ve watched me lose to Josephine at Wicked Grace.” He eyed her suspiciously. “This isn’t just your method of teasing me still?”
“Mmmmm nope. Was drunk. That could’ave been my 'magination.” The rogue spun to sit towards him, straddling the wall. Cullen wasn’t sure how she could remain so steady despite how clearly intoxicated she was. Before he could listen to his better judgement and pull her down, she shook his shoulders. “Proooooove it!”
He shook his head and held back a laugh. “I'm not going to remove my clothes, Inquisitor.”
“Evelyn,” she teased.
“I'm not going to get naked, Evelyn.” She was quite a handful, though he couldn’t fault her enjoyment. She’d taken so much on in the last year, and now it seemed, her efforts had paid off. A night of drinking and teasing him was hardly enough to cover the debt all of Thedas owed this woman. A debt that no one but her would truly understand.
Her eyes were bright and liquid as she leaned forward more and plucked at the fabric on his thigh with her marked hand. It flared a little in the dark, coating him in green. “Just a leg! Or your stomach?” She waggled her eyebrows.
Sighing as if greatly inconvenienced, Cullen pulled up his tabard and undershirt revealing part of his abdomen. “There. No armor underneath. Are you satisfied?” He enjoyed the way her eyes lingered at the spot. After getting enough exposure to the crisp air he put everything back to order.
When he looked at her again, Evelyn was subdued, staring up at the stars. Her fingers tapped on the stone wall, and she worried at her cheek. “Why can't I get through then?” Her voice was small and uneven.
“Get through?” He didn’t understand what she meant, which was hardly a surprise at that point.
Within an instant she was happy again, the teetering emotions of a drunk. “Bah, no one likes a crying winner. That's what they say. Here I am top'o'the world, bear on my shoulders, handsome man.” She raised her arms up over her head and shouted. “World'sokay!” She looked at Cullen and grinned. “I was pretty good wasn’t I?” She winked like a lecher and he laughed.
“That you were. We’re-- I’m proud of you.” He squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back. “Thanks, Cullen. I mean it. Now, help me stand? Think I might've drank too much. Damn Bull and his dragon booze.”
Cullen hopped off the wall and helped her down, though he could tell she would have been fine without. His hands lingered on her hips and for a moment he thought about sweeping her hair back and kissing her. Then he remembered the last ten minutes and how she’d never be able to recall it in the morning. Kissing her would have been a terrible idea.
“To bed?”
“Yesssss.” She squealed and darted out of his grasp. “Walk me back?”
“Whatever you ask.” He waited a beat. “Evelyn.”
Her smile was so wide and earnest at the sound of her name that he couldn’t help return it. Why he’d never walked her back to her door before was beyond him. Why he’d never actually kissed her was too. He planned to remedy it soon. Tomorrow. But not too early. She was going to need to sleep this one off.
