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tellmevarricTitle: Mistaken Identity
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing(s): Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Another prompt fill for Cullrian Prompt Saturday. This time is was: Getting mistaken for husbandos in Halamshiral. I'm not sure this fic needs more introduction than that.
To say Cullen was uncomfortable in the Winter Palace would be a gross understatement. He would honestly have preferred to be facing Corypheus himself in single combat than be here amongst all these masks and frippery and lies and deceit. He had at least found himself a reasonably decent corner that allowed him to set up his defences but they seemed almost inadequate against the courtiers and nobles and wandering hands that pinched his bottom. He didn’t care how weak a man that noble was, he needed to learn to keep his hands to himself!
The gathering nobles around him parted and Dorian sauntered through, two wine glasses in hand. Cullen relaxed a little and even managed a weak smile for the Tevinter mage.
“My dear Commander,” Dorian said, handing over both of the glasses and setting to work straightening Cullen’s collar and sash. “Our good Ambassador is going to have your head on a platter if you wrinkle this outfit.”
“She shouldn’t have had it cut so tight then,” Cullen grumbled, forgetting for a moment the gathered crowd.
“Nonsense,” Dorian replied, still fussing with Cullen’s uniform. “It’s perfectly fitted and you look utterly dashing.” He smirked. “Perhaps not quite as dashing as me but you do come close.”
Dorian smoothed a hand down the front of Cullen’s chest then claimed one of the wine glasses. “And do stop scowling. You look like you’re fortifying your position under siege.”
“I am under siege,” Cullen growled under his breath. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”
“Because you’re dashingly handsome and you have rank as the Commander of the Inquisition’s armies,” Dorian replied, clinking his glass against Cullen’s. “You’re polite and a fresh face in the court. You are utterly delectable.”
The look Dorian gave Cullen was full of teasing and just a hint of desire. Cullen had been seeing that look more and more often from Dorian and he wasn’t entirely sure which part of it he should be responding to – the teasing or the desire. If Dorian was just teasing, then any advances he made might ruin their friendship but if he ignored the desire, he might lose Dorian entirely. And that thought filled him with dread and pain.
“Commander!” One of the ladies who had been lingering all evening edged closer, her eyes alight with interest and mischief behind her mask. “You did not tell me your husband was here as well. For shame! And here you let me flirt with you!”
Both Dorian and Cullen froze but for once it was Cullen who recovered the quicker.
“My apologies… my lady.” He honestly could not remember the woman’s name though they’d been introduced. Twice. “That was… very remiss of me. May I present Dorian Pavus?”
Never let it be said that Dorian didn’t know how to play the Great Game in all its myriad of nuances. He smiled charmingly and bowed over the hand he’d been presented.
“My dear lady, I am honoured to meet you.”
“As am I with you,” the woman said with a giggle. “And as your husband has forgotten my name again, I am Lady Angelique DeVere.”
“He has a terrible memory for names,” Dorian said smoothly, shooting Cullen a look the warrior couldn’t quite decipher.
“But I am sure he is good at many other things,” Angelique replied, her eyes alight with mischief.
Cullen blushed, well aware of the double meaning in the woman’s words and wondering if he’d just dug himself a hole he wasn’t going to be able to get out of.
“That he is,” Dorian replied roguishly. “And lucky for me, I get to experience them.
The noblewoman giggled and smacked his arm lightly. “Oh, you are wicked, Lord Pavus. Such thoughts to put into the mind of an innocent lady such as myself. I am entirely overcome. I shall have to retire to the garden to recover.” She turned to the bottom-pinching man and favoured him with a brilliant smile. “Will you not accompany me, my Lord?”
The man bowed deeply. He seemed terribly disappointed about something. “Of course, my Lady.”
He offered his arm and the two of them sailed off through the crowd. That was when Cullen realised the nobles that had been gathered around him like a slavering wolf pack had all wandered off seeking easier prey, leaving him and Dorian alone.
“Uh… Dorian,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
A sudden movement not far away drew their attention and they saw Adaar gesturing to Dorian. The mage nodded in return and handed his glass to Cullen. He paused for a moment after that to look at Cullen, a deep searching gaze that seemed to find what he was looking for. The smile he then gave was sultry enough to take Cullen’s breath away. The mage leaned in and captured Cullen’s lips in a searing kiss that lasted too long and not long enough.
He pulled away and this time his smile was small and hopeful and his eyes held all sorts of promises Cullen had longed to see. Dorian let his hand brush over Cullen’s chest and as he turned away to join the Inquisitor, he said, “Hold that thought, husband. We’ll come back to it later.”
Read Part 2 here
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing(s): Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Another prompt fill for Cullrian Prompt Saturday. This time is was: Getting mistaken for husbandos in Halamshiral. I'm not sure this fic needs more introduction than that.
To say Cullen was uncomfortable in the Winter Palace would be a gross understatement. He would honestly have preferred to be facing Corypheus himself in single combat than be here amongst all these masks and frippery and lies and deceit. He had at least found himself a reasonably decent corner that allowed him to set up his defences but they seemed almost inadequate against the courtiers and nobles and wandering hands that pinched his bottom. He didn’t care how weak a man that noble was, he needed to learn to keep his hands to himself!
The gathering nobles around him parted and Dorian sauntered through, two wine glasses in hand. Cullen relaxed a little and even managed a weak smile for the Tevinter mage.
“My dear Commander,” Dorian said, handing over both of the glasses and setting to work straightening Cullen’s collar and sash. “Our good Ambassador is going to have your head on a platter if you wrinkle this outfit.”
“She shouldn’t have had it cut so tight then,” Cullen grumbled, forgetting for a moment the gathered crowd.
“Nonsense,” Dorian replied, still fussing with Cullen’s uniform. “It’s perfectly fitted and you look utterly dashing.” He smirked. “Perhaps not quite as dashing as me but you do come close.”
Dorian smoothed a hand down the front of Cullen’s chest then claimed one of the wine glasses. “And do stop scowling. You look like you’re fortifying your position under siege.”
“I am under siege,” Cullen growled under his breath. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”
“Because you’re dashingly handsome and you have rank as the Commander of the Inquisition’s armies,” Dorian replied, clinking his glass against Cullen’s. “You’re polite and a fresh face in the court. You are utterly delectable.”
The look Dorian gave Cullen was full of teasing and just a hint of desire. Cullen had been seeing that look more and more often from Dorian and he wasn’t entirely sure which part of it he should be responding to – the teasing or the desire. If Dorian was just teasing, then any advances he made might ruin their friendship but if he ignored the desire, he might lose Dorian entirely. And that thought filled him with dread and pain.
“Commander!” One of the ladies who had been lingering all evening edged closer, her eyes alight with interest and mischief behind her mask. “You did not tell me your husband was here as well. For shame! And here you let me flirt with you!”
Both Dorian and Cullen froze but for once it was Cullen who recovered the quicker.
“My apologies… my lady.” He honestly could not remember the woman’s name though they’d been introduced. Twice. “That was… very remiss of me. May I present Dorian Pavus?”
Never let it be said that Dorian didn’t know how to play the Great Game in all its myriad of nuances. He smiled charmingly and bowed over the hand he’d been presented.
“My dear lady, I am honoured to meet you.”
“As am I with you,” the woman said with a giggle. “And as your husband has forgotten my name again, I am Lady Angelique DeVere.”
“He has a terrible memory for names,” Dorian said smoothly, shooting Cullen a look the warrior couldn’t quite decipher.
“But I am sure he is good at many other things,” Angelique replied, her eyes alight with mischief.
Cullen blushed, well aware of the double meaning in the woman’s words and wondering if he’d just dug himself a hole he wasn’t going to be able to get out of.
“That he is,” Dorian replied roguishly. “And lucky for me, I get to experience them.
The noblewoman giggled and smacked his arm lightly. “Oh, you are wicked, Lord Pavus. Such thoughts to put into the mind of an innocent lady such as myself. I am entirely overcome. I shall have to retire to the garden to recover.” She turned to the bottom-pinching man and favoured him with a brilliant smile. “Will you not accompany me, my Lord?”
The man bowed deeply. He seemed terribly disappointed about something. “Of course, my Lady.”
He offered his arm and the two of them sailed off through the crowd. That was when Cullen realised the nobles that had been gathered around him like a slavering wolf pack had all wandered off seeking easier prey, leaving him and Dorian alone.
“Uh… Dorian,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
A sudden movement not far away drew their attention and they saw Adaar gesturing to Dorian. The mage nodded in return and handed his glass to Cullen. He paused for a moment after that to look at Cullen, a deep searching gaze that seemed to find what he was looking for. The smile he then gave was sultry enough to take Cullen’s breath away. The mage leaned in and captured Cullen’s lips in a searing kiss that lasted too long and not long enough.
He pulled away and this time his smile was small and hopeful and his eyes held all sorts of promises Cullen had longed to see. Dorian let his hand brush over Cullen’s chest and as he turned away to join the Inquisitor, he said, “Hold that thought, husband. We’ll come back to it later.”
Read Part 2 here
