Jul 24, 2022
What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’ What does it look like I’m doing?
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What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’ What does it look like I’m doing?
I love the idea of Cullen and Meara slowly falling for each other at Haven. He is more reserved and unsure, standing on protocol and years of Templar training especially since she is the Herald, but she has found herself at ease and comfortable with him.
A long day of training had turned into a long rainy night and Meara was relieved to reach her quarters. They had been out so long they had missed supper but there were still lights on in the windows at The Singing Maiden which meant there was a chance for something to eat. Cullen had said he would go over to the small tavern and see what he could do about a hot meal and meet her at her cabin if she wanted to go find some dry clothes. She had been all to happy to agree to his suggestion, they had grown closer over the past few weeks and she felt at ease with him. Plus, she was drenched to the bone and was pretty sure she could grow spindleweed in her boots now.
Meara put another log in the fireplace and changed into a dry outfit. Just as she pulled the second chair over to the small desk figuring it could serve as a table for the two of them, there was a knock on the door. Meara opened it to find a half frozen water-logged Commander standing on the other side with a basket.
“Looks like you had some luck with supper, not so much with the weather though!” she laughed noticing the rain changing to snow as it fell to the ground.
Cullen passed her the basket, “Yes, there was a good deal of inquiry as to where I was heading and why I needed supper for two though.” He stood in the doorway and had started to pick up a slight shiver.
Meara took the basket from him, “Come in I just put more wood on the fire, you are going to need a healer if you stay out in the cold and wet much longer.”
Without hesitation Cullen stepped through the doorway, then he stopped as if something had just occurred to him. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Meara raised an eyebrow questioning him as she put the basket on the desk.
“It is late, and it may be seen as inappropriate for me to be alone with you in your quarters at this time in the evening.” He turned as if he intended to leave.
“For Andraste’s sake, people should have more important things to worry about than the two of us having a meal?” Meara motioned for him to sit down. “Not to mention other than Varric, most of Haven has turned in for the night, who would know you are here?”
Cullen laughed, “Varric could be enough! However, I will stay long enough to warm up while we eat.” He removed his boots and left them upside down by the door and placed his dripping surcoat over the back of the chair.
Meara opened the basket and removed a warm loaf of crusty bread, a slice of roasted meat and small chunk of cheese and placed them on the desk. “Good, I don’t want to be the one who has to explain to Cassandra how you got sick being out in the cold and wet all day!”
Cullen laughed, “Unless you are Varric, Cassandra is not that frightening. Allow me to help you with that.”
“You didn’t wake up in a cell with her staring through your soul a month ago!” Meara snickered.
As they ate the two exchanged stories of their experiences with Cassandra and agreed she had her moments of sternness however, she was not as scary as Varric made her out to be. When they had finished Meara pulled a bottle and two cups from the bookshelf.
“I found this in a cabin in the Hinterlands, can you believe one brother who was a Templar challenged his own brother who was an apostate to a duel!” She opened the bottle and poured a small amount into each glass. “I thought family was supposed to mean more than that.”
Cullen crossed the room and took the cup from her, “This war has divided everyone, the sooner we stop it and restore the peace the better.”
“I will drink to that,” Meara tipped the cup back taking a drink.
“Where did you say you found this?” Cullen coughed a little trying to hide his surprise at the strength of the liquor.
“In a cabin in the Hinterlands, Blackwall says it has Grey Warden markings something about them mixing bottles to refill them and keeping their loads light. I believe the saying goes, ‘Nothing burns like the first cup!’”
Meara sat down on the red rug in front of the fire place and motioned for Cullen to join her, she poured them each another drink. “Guess we will have to find out if it gets better as you go then.”
Cullen laughed as he put the cup to his lips, “Let us hope so!”
An hour later and the bottle lay empty on the floor, Meara shifted onto her hip and then laid down placing her head in Cullen’s lap. Cullen was unsure of her move at first, however she seemed comfortable enough and he could get used to the closeness. The two of them debated Cassandra’s verdict of Varric’s guilt or lack thereof while growing sleepy from a full stomach, too much drink and the warmth of her quarters.
Cullen stretched out, “I should be returning to my tent and you need to get some rest for tomorrow.” He looked down to see that Meara was sound asleep in his lap.
For a moment he entertained waking her, then he found himself running his fingers through her hair. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he spoke, “Meara?” There was no response.
Leaning back on the small table he pulled a bit of blanket over her. He could let her sleep for a little, they had trained hard today and he knew she was heading to Redcliffe tomorrow. As he felt the warmth of the room pushing him to give in to his own exhaustion, he pushed the hair from the side of her face behind her ear and whispered softly, “By the Maker, you are beautiful.”
slowly falling
Some nights were worse than others. || ao3
Some nights were worse than others.
On occasion, he found her lost in her head and ended up carrying her to bed so they could fall asleep in one another's arms.
Other nights, she’d settle down in his lap, making him focus on her voice and her heartbeat when the outside world was too overwhelming.
But there were nights that their episodes synced up and those were the worst.
“We did nothing today,” Betty mumbled, looking at the clock on her nightstand. 4:52 pm blinked back at her in angry red numbers.
Jughead grunted in acknowledgement. He took a deep breath, reaching out for her hand, relaxing beside her when their fingers interlocked. “We did.”
Are you in love with the her or are you in love with the thought of being with her and of finally being loved by someone?” she asked. I thought about it and said, “At first I was in love with the thought of her but now my thoughts are coming true, so I’m slowly falling for her. Harder than I thought possible.
excerpts0fstories
Voodoo Doll
Take the knife and dig at it again The wound is getting deeper my friend With each push another thread breaks As you slowly sever any connection in place You continue still Blind to see The pain you’re constantly causing me Maybe if you opened your eyes And saw how much I'm bleeding inside I might be able to catch my breath And maybe get a little rest — Short spoken word poem | Nate Clement | lostindaydreams
Obtained image from here
Image attribution here
“Slowly Falling” by J.Cyrus ( Slowly Falling) on Spotify playlist Below Deck
HD Version of Slowly falling - cover from Hyuk on TvN's "Coveted/ A desired cruise"