A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

Appetizer

6 Cloudreach, 9:42

Cullen was absolutely on fire.

Contrary to her usual practice at these dull dinners, Josephine had seated him only a couple of chairs away from Antonia, in earshot of her, almost within touching distance. But if anything, it had been a greater torment to be so close and yet still separated by stuffy nobles who were boasting of their skills and prowess, leaning over next to her so close they could probably smell the flowery scent of her hair.

Most of the time, he could have enjoyed the build of anticipation over the course of the long, slow meal, teasing looks and the occasional brush of hands just increasing the eventual pleasure when they could be together in the privacy of her quarters. But in this case, she had returned only yesterday from an unusually long trip away, and come home too late last night for a proper welcome home, which meant that it had been something like ten days since he had touched her. Maybe more.

All of which contributed to his current state, in which every look and every occasional brush of hands severely threatened his equilibrium. He kept looking at Josephine, hoping she would indicate the end of the meal, but it appeared never-ending, course after course of overly complicated food.

He tried to be polite to his dinner companions, but if they wanted intelligent conversation and some type of learned commentary on the military situation, they were out of luck tonight. The sight of the nobles flirting with Antonia made him want to stand up and claim her as his right there.

Not for the first time, he wished she would agree to at least become engaged. Their relationship was well-known at Skyhold and a relatively open secret amongst the rest of the Inquisition, but outside the Inquisition she appeared to be free and unencumbered. Not that he doubted her, but that didn't make the situation any more enjoyable. A ring on her finger would have made him considerably more happy.

Antonia caught his eye, smiling, and he smiled back, but what he really wanted was to drag her away from the table and have his way with her on the nearest flat and reasonably private surface. As he did so often, he blessed his extensive training; Templars were good at self-control, if nothing else.

At last the fruit and cheese at the end of the meal were served. People began getting up, milling about the main hall with their brandies and sherries, chatting with one another. There were at least two more hours of this before he could drag Antonia off to bed, based on Josephine's rigid schedule.

He meandered up and down the hall for a few minutes, making an effort to smile and be friendly. It was a chore at the best of times—he didn't particularly like nobles, didn't really understand them, and found most of their conversational topics utterly boring. And these were not the best of times, because there in front of him was Antonia, her jacket buttoned snugly over her lovely breasts, her pants cupping the rounded curves of her rear the way he loved to do when she was—argh. At this rate, he wouldn't make it through two more minutes, much less two more hours.

To entertain himself, he began looking around the room at the decorations and furnishings, trying to decide if anything needed to be replaced. And he noticed something quite interesting—particularly interesting in his current situation—that he had never been aware of before. Next to a giant statue of a bird there hung a long, heavy green velvet curtain. The two of them together created an alcove of sorts. If you stood behind the statue, next to the curtain, you couldn't be seen. Looking around carefully, he determined that no one was paying him any particular attention, and he slipped into that space. Perfect. From here he could look out and see if anyone was coming near his hiding place, but he didn't have to make small talk. And he felt a little bit like a small boy again, hiding in his mother's cupboards with a stolen cookie.