#duete

[littlehoundthings]

rant about cullen rutherford

"You wanna know what I think 'bout our illustrious commander?" "I think!! I!" "Have mixed feelin's on him."

"On one hand, he's a fuckin' DICK. If I have t'hear the man heftin' around a seven pound hunk of metal sayin' how dangerous mages are one more time, I'm gunna personally take the stick outta his ass and BEAT him with it."

"Hell! I remember when he was a fuckin' trainee who couldn't even handle someone flirtin' with him. I bloody well did and it was fuckin' hilarious t'watch him sprint away. But he was just as complacent as every other bloody templar in that fuckin' Circle. I got my ass beat half t'death multiple times a day, and he was just... chill? With that? Becuase I'm a mage?"

"And I DISTINCTLY remember him sayin' that we should've all been put t'death. Like! Thanks you actual-" <These words have been omitted to protect everyone from Ashe's impressive grasp of Elvhen swearing that would make most keeper's ears turn to charcoal.> "-fuckin' noodle hair lookin' ass asshole. Everyone left alive went through probably one of the most traumatic moments of their lives, but sure. Let's add to it cause you shit yourself."

"Hard t'come back from that! But now he's a respectable commander!"

"And I get it! He was scared like the rest of us! I was half-pissin' my pants that entire day as well! But y'know what? I didn't say 'let's put all the templars t'death to protect the mages!'. I didn't scream paranoia! Probably because thanks to that Blight forsaken bloody fuckin' tower, I'm stuck with that blood magic for the rest of my life!"

"Maker's Incandescent Fuckin' Nutsack that man drives me up a wall."

"Nevermind. I don't have mixed feelings. I'd fight him in a backalley brawl without hesitation."

[fadewalking]

It's... A book. That meaning, it's a package very clearly in the shape of a book, and with the wight of a book. In lieu of anything new to wrap it with, the gift has been carefully folded up in a square of worn red and gold fabric. Despite it's age the fabric is still strong, color fading at the edges where a golden design had once been.

The book itself is far older than the fabric Cullen had wrapped it in, the leather of it's bindings aged and cracking, any lettering that had once been so proudly displayed now worn completely from it's surface. On the outside, the book is indecipherable.

But on the inside?

The words are clearly Elvhen from some age past. Tucked inside is a scrap of plain undyed and unadorned fabric, folded carefully over a small handwritten note.

' I recalled seeing this book in the library at Kinloch recently. It never left the shelf other than the few times I flipped through the pages, but I was still surprised to see it here after my inquiry. I had it retrieved for you. For your Name Day. '

-- C. Rutherford. '

If the note were to be flipped there is a small secondary scribble on the back, still in the commanders handwriting, but written quickly as though an afterthought.

' I do not know the contents of this book. If it's of an offending nature, I apologize in advance. As a young templar I thought the illustrations charming. '

It's Solas' Name Day (kinda) // @duete

Solas was surprised to find the carefully wrapped artefact sitting on his desk as he entered his rotunda. He unwrapped it with ceremony, folding the fabric into the shape of a neat triangle and which he set aside with equal care. He brushed his fingers across the indecipherable cover, trying to see if he could discern anything from it, which he could not.

He opened the book, and out slipped the letter, which he skillfully caught before it hit the ground. Setting the book back down, he unfolded it with the same meticulous attention before reading its contents. There was his second surprise. The gift had come from their lion-hearted commander.

He arched a brow at the unexpected gesture. That Cullen would think to recognize the day he'd haphazardly thrown a dart at was... well, it was something.

Next, fate would find its whimsy to surprise him with a gift from Dorian, then perhaps Vivienne.

Not only was it something, but it was also something rather thoughtful. He turned the letter over where he saw the hasty scrawl of post-script, and could not help a faintly amused lift at the corners of his lips.

He set the note atop its cloth wrapping, and properly addressed the book itself. From the first page he flipped to, he could roughly interpret the volume's origin and context. It was not from his time, but from the era when the remnants of his people still clung to ground at Halamshiral. The tome chronicled the Elvhen warriors of that age. Their armors, magicks, and a selection of tales of triumphed battles. It was no wonder Cullen was drawn to its illustrations.

Charming, indeed.

He smoothed his index finger across one of the portraits of an Elvhen warrior, and thought of home.

Cullen would need a proper thanks.

[crosaidi]

How can you be a mage twice? Is that something new?

he's explaining nothing about the feral badger cullen, nothing

& it's called mirror image 😏 iykyk

( that said, i ALSO love warrior type ships, the Understanding there, and there's honestly a lot of interesting conversations that could come from some of the parallels between the wardens and templar orders, too, even though he's left the templars )

[theharellan]

“Common is a fuck and I do not respect it.”

He blinks. "I was not aware you spoke any other languages, Commander."

[archonoclasm]

@duete asked: ❛ i don’t know how to fall asleep anymore . ❜ / 𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑺 𝑽𝑶𝑳. 𝑰: still accepting.

"It might help were you try one of these days. You'll find it's a fair bit like swimming. You never really forget."

Except with the depth of those shadows darkening those eyes, Cullen, he wagers, might have well just. It's incredible, almost comical, the way in which he'd deny any modicum of leisure. Honestly, their chess games are perhaps his only chance at breathing, and he imagines it's more to quell their Seeker's complaining! Masochism, Dorian thinks. That is the law that guides ex-Templars.

Well, at least in that regard, anyway, few would prove as laughably respectable as Commander Rutherford of the Inquisition's forces. Dorian angles himself backward and begins thumbing at his mouth. Crossing a pawn forward, he won't lose twice in a row. "Though if you do happen to drown in your attempt to prove a point, I suppose I'll have to dive on in and return you to us. Would that make me your keeper, Commander? How the tables turn."

[littlehoundthings]

@duete: PINNED

Turbulence. That was the only word Ashe could think of to sum up his relationship with Cullen of all people. Sometimes it felt like they were just two people working toward the same goal, and sometimes those old scars from the past felt like they wanted to overtake the two.

Truth be told, Ashe might've been looking to pick a fight. He enjoyed teasing the commander, but Ashe also wasn't exactly the most people smart-- and it seemed like he teased too much this time judging by the look in Cullen's eye during a sparring session. The templar must have been training diligently, as he took an opening to strike Ashe HARD with his shield, pushing the Ashe up against the wall of the Skyhold training ground with a loud groan.

"Alright- yield- yield," Ashe groaned out from his place squished up against the wall. "I'll even apologize, Maker's fuckin' bollocks y'hit like an ogre sometimes."

[pawnedprince]

" you're doing wonderfully lord capon. good job. " ↳ @duete

that's it, that's what he likes to hear. the soothed moan with which he responds is muffled, mouth all to occupied as it works its way around the commander's cock. he melts, just for a moment, hands bracing himself against cullen's hips, a sweated mat of blonde locks fixed against his forehead as he is momentarily at rest. how foolish to think the lord would shy away from more passionate work: that he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty with the right task. a quick breath is all he needs before setting back to work once more, mouth hungry and tongue attentive. one hand frees itself, traveling underneath the hem of his shirt and up his chest. and the eyes follow after: looking up, finding his own, reporting for duty.

[blacknighted]

@duete asked: " My bed is... Large enough for two people. If you're having difficulty sleeping. "

Henry looks to him, and from the torches that Cullen keeps, the embers croak like lullaby.

It's obvious, he knows this. He would know it like a tragedy. It's as evident as the shadows and the fissure in their skies. Here, bathed when constellations come stumbling from the twilight, the nightmares more like hellhounds would dog upon his heels. They drive Henry to madness, his heart rabbiting fiercely as he writhes upon his sheets. He so seldom speaks of them, of the visions of his village and the piles of the dead. But then, when another man, too, would wrest with nightmares... Alas. Looking over, like knowing like sees the Commander's frown.

At those eyes, Henry notes the color of several hard nights.

"No offense, sir, but how I see it, I'm having no harder a time than you." Henry's shared beds before. He's grown up modest, poor, but somehow, as his settles lowly on that bed — chilled, snowdrift from above — its gravity feels terribly considerable. Cullen knows his nightmares, and Henry knows his, too. Commander: "You could stand to loosen up a bit more. It's not all on you."

Can he? He looks from his right. "I'm here, too. Just have to reach for me."