#knightcommandcr

[valorcorrupt]

“The moment I saw you, I knew we were meant to be.”

     It’s a strange thing to hear from a handsome man, certainly. It wasn’t often that someone brought her an attractive suitor -- rich? certainly, that happened all the time. But to find a family with a man her age who didn’t look like he’d had a hard, long talk with ugly while gluttony packed his stomach and thighs? Her father must have searched ages for them. 

And all for nothing. Such a pity. 

     “Then it appears you know very little,” Inara’s tone isn’t cold, exactly, but it’s far from warm, her eyes turning away from the young man’s prying gaze. “Do you think so little of my looks that you’d believe you’re the first to covet me for my beauty?” she asks just after an uncomfortable silence settles between them, her gaze once it’s turned back on Cullen fierce and predatory. “You’re far from that. And far from the last, I’m certain. You’ll excuse me.”

[valorcorrupt]

“I only have two kinds of dreams: the bad and the terrible.”

     “I know the feeling,” she tells him, her hand resting over his as his head leans heavy on her shoulder. She tells him this because she cannot tell him it will get better, can’t tell him she’ll help make it stop. Nothing stops the wounds inside from bleeding, that much she knows too well. No one can bandage cuts they can’t see or feel from the outside. No one can help, not really. 

     “I’ve heard the Avvar have a ritual,” she says then, stroking a hand through his sandy-blonde hair with a soft smile. “Something to cleanse evil spirits from one’s dream, keep the dark places of the Fade separate from where your mind dwells. It might all be superstition and rumor but... Perhaps... if we’ve ever a reason to travel to the Frostbacks, perhaps we could ask around?”

[valorcorrupt]

“Perhaps a little doubt in me is called for.”

     “Cullen.” She hopes the word is enough, hopes the strain in her voice as her fingers dig into the skin of his hand does what she can’t find the words to communicate. 

     If he’s looking for someone to tear him down it’s an inopportune time, the sheets in his loft still warm from the love they’ve made. They’ve redressed, of course; the Inquisition’s Commander and the newly appointed Joint Commander of what remains of the Orlesian and Fereldan Wardens being caught naked together in the middle of the afternoon would hardly do a lot to inspire confidence in their professionalism. (It’s not often that Inara will sacrifice pleasure for appearances, but for Cullen, she makes a sacrifice here or there.) But clothing hardly covers the affection that’s been rubbed raw on the Warden’s skin from the friction of the act they’ve just enjoyed, and she can’t stomach the thought of being cold now. 

     “You know what you’re doing,” she assures him when those troubled eyes meet hers. She can’t help but feel a bit light-headed as the blood rushes to her cheeks instead of her brain, her pupils blown and focused on the soft curve of his cheek and the subtle fullness the lingering heat of kissing gives his lips. She imagines if she kissed him now it’d taste sweet with just an edge of blood, and it takes every inch of self-control not to lean in and see if she’s correct.

     “I know that,” he says, rips her brain away from his lips to focus on practicalities, if reluctantly. “I fear that with Samson, however, my priorities--”

     Ah. He seems upset -- of course, she’d be upset too if a lover ignored her practical insecurities in favor of petty flattery. She’s being insincere and he can feel it; her eyes drop momentarily in shame. “Let me look over your plans,” she offers next. “I’ll tell you if I find any room for improvement.”

[valorcorrupt]

‘I want the K’

I Want the K Meme {Literally always accepting tbh}

5. Firm Kiss

     “Taking a break from frowning at everyone, are you?”

     Inara couldn’t help but grin to see him, the pretty Commander of the Inquisition awkwardly moving himself into the little corner of the library the former Warden had claimed for himself. He told her once that those grins of her unsettled him, that she looked something like a wolf when she prowled towards him, eyes glittering with hunger, footfalls so battle-ready and certain, hips swaying with pride and purpose. And if she was a wolf, he was her rabbit, frozen in awe as she seized him by the fur fluffed around his neck and pulling him down for a long, slow kiss.  She didn’t think she minded the comparison, truly - even if she was more mabari at heart. 

      “Yes, well,” he said when she released him, voice shaking like he was trying to pretend he wasn’t blushing all the way down into his throat. “I can only make disapproving noises for so long before my throat gets sore.”

     “Orlais is the topic of the day, then?” Inara laughed; she adored their shared distaste for Orlesian politics -- and adored the way his eyes dropped to the movement of her chest when her laughter made her breasts jiggle. “Perhaps you should ask Cassandra about your throat -- I heard her have a conversation with Varric the other day during which she communicated entirely in disapproving grunts.”

     “It is a talent of hers,” Cullen agreed. He looked surprised for a moment -- he hadn’t even realized the way Inara had been directing his movement, easing his body back into her little nook between the bookcases until his back was pressed against one of those dusty old shelves. the surprise faded to gentle admonishment, however, when Inara’s hand trailed down the Commander’s side and over his thigh. 

     “We don’t really have time-- I only meant to-- I should get back--” so many protests began and failed as he looked down into her eyes, every hesitation drowning in the moisture left on her lips when she licked them slowly. 

     “They won’t even know you were gone,” she whispered, her voice low and soft and full of promise. “But you’ll owe me one.”

     “I can-- live with that,” he decided finally, collapsing against the overwhelming tide of her touch and her will and one more long, sweet kiss pressed hard to his lips so very firmly he almost feared the edges of the books would mess up his hair. 

[valorcorrupt]

❝ you’re not leaving me here alone .❞

     “Oh, Cullen,” the laughter bubbled out of her throat like the bubbles in her glass, light and happy as they rose to the surface. “I’m not leaving you here alone,” she said as she clasped him on the shoulder, leaning her body against his as they stood on the bar, more out of necessity than choice as she cast a glance back over her shoulder to where a very lovely-looking little bard sat patiently waiting on their return. “Morgiana is right over there.”

     The look Cullen gave Inara said what his mouth didn’t want to -- that’s the point. But the look, coupled with the blush that spread across the commander’s cheeks and gave his affections helplessly away, only made her laugh more. 

     “Relax. Just take her drink, go over there, and act all awkward and slightly off-putting, and give the girl a kiss. She’s been waiting on it all night.”

     “Why would I want to act--?”

     “Because that is what is going to happen anyway,” Inara told him unhelpfully, patting him on the back as she delivered the sad news. “If you plan it that way, you’ll at least feel on purpose.”

     Cullen only blushed more. 

     “Go get ‘er, tiger,” Inara urged, giving the poor man a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the head for luck. “I believe in you.” She didn’t, really -- but miracles happened every day. 

[valorcorrupt]

     ||||| @knightcommandcr

     “It’s risky, but it could work.” Inara had known the voice immediately, her heart skipping a beat as she approached the door with her... interesting new companion. Could that really be Cullen? Just how many Fereldans had this Inquisition gathered?

     “Fortunately, you’ll have help,” Dorian -- the Tevinter mage who had led Inara here, back to Haven, made the effort of a grand entrance for her, pushing open the door to this... Inquisition’s ‘command room’ even as one of their attendants scrambled after them, looking quite alarmed. The people inside -- Leliana, Cullen, a pretty woman Inara did not recognize, and an... elf? stood inside, all regarding the newcomers with some degree of interest, though no one’s eyes sparkled at them like Leliana’s. “Your spies will never get past Alexius’ magic without our help. So if you’re going after him, we’re coming along.”

     “What... he said,” Inara shrugged when the curious gazes turned on her. She had gotten so used to letting Dorian do the talking the last few days -- he was good at it, and even better, demanded attention in everything he said and did, which kept the ‘It’s the Hero of Ferelden!’ chatter down to a blessed minimum. When even Dorian turned a look at her like he was awaiting further explaination, she said, “I have the key that opens the passage Leliana mentioned. The castle guards know me--” as a Tranquil and Connor’s faithful companion, of course, but they knew her nonetheless “--and don’t question my comings and going. I can help your people get inside.”

     The Herald agreed, and the plan was set. They drew their strategy, and prepared to go off to battle. And then they all left. 

     All of them, save Inara and Cullen. 

     She didn’t know what to say -- she hadn’t seen the man in two years now, having fled Kirkwall on rather short notice when she’d heard that the Seekers were coming. ‘To help restore Order’, people had said -- but, being a woman with a bounty on her head, unofficial or otherwise, Inara had no desire to stay and see if the desire to help the city would outweigh their desire to arrest her. 

     “I... I’m glad you got out of Kirkwall,” was what she went with. No hello, no ‘nice to see you’, no pretty small talk and polite side-stepping. Given their history, she figured Cullen deserved better than that. “And you got yourself a fancy new title, I hear.”