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The winter dragged on especially long that year. The late start to the planting season at the keep would certainly be detrimental to the food supply later on. Temperatures remained frigid throughout the day; even at noon the tips of Uriel's ears still ran the risk of going numb if she lingered outside for too long. On the upside, the chill kept her pressed comfortably against her lover all night. Tucked away among heavy furs and a encircled by his arms, no amount of icy wind could get to her small, lean frame. Unfortunately the bed had been just a little bit colder for the past week and a half. Cullen had been sent (by her request, as she kept reminding herself) to see to a squabble that had broken out among the troops near Redcliffe, leaving her alone and too chilled for her liking.
Numb fingers fumbled to unbuckle a heavy chest plate. Hot breath sent steam swirling into the air of the ex-templar's tent. Every bone seemed to creak from the combined stress and harsh cold that had consumed Cullen's life for almost a fortnight. The troops here had gone without supervision for too long and morale had gone down. Fights broke out. Arguments turned into brawls. It was a good time. He pressed his fingers to his temples, breathing deeply before deciding to turn in for the night. Maker did he miss Skyhold. Surely there was a fire blazing in the dining hall and the thick stone walls were keeping the wind out. And there are more productive ways of getting warm, he thought, mind wandering to the dips and curves of the body that he knew fit so well against his own. He laid back onto his bedroll, closing his eyes as he pulled the furs over himself. In his shared Skyhold chambers, nimble fingers tugging at his clothes and skilled lips pepping kisses in all kinds of places would keep him more than warm. Sleep tonight would be difficult.
Two weeks and three days. Every hour seemed to pass agonizingly slow. Never before had Uriel remained in the keep for such and extended period of time. Things had been slow-- a calm before the storm, no doubt. Again, she found herself alone in bed, aching for a certain warm body next to her, under her, on top of her, anywhere and everywhere. Restless sleep came in short intervals. This time, though, it was the creak of the door that woke the elf. The outline of a broad figure stood in the doorway, heavy furs coving his shoulders. A sleepy smile crept to her lips before she swung her legs over the side of the bed, toes briefly recoiling at the feeling of the cold floor. Goosebumps covered her body as her covers slid away from her body. Cullen was aware of her habit of sleeping nude, but in this instance, he was particularly thankful for it. She moved toward him in silence, he closed the gap and allowed her to reach up to sup his cheeks in her hands. She stared at him for a moment, as if memorizing every feature of his face in fear he might leave again, before the frenzy broke out.
She pulled his head down, moving her hands to grasp handfuls of hair as she pressed her lips to his. He grunted slightly at the sudden force, but any discomfort melted away as her lips moved down to his neck, nip and sucking as she went. Cold fingers gently lifted her chin and deep green met hazel. His hands were quick as the slid down to her thighs, lifting her and allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. She buried her face into his neck, inhaling his scent. Pine and sweat from long travels in the woods filled her nostrils, but a certain sweetness of a man that fought to maintain a put-together appearance was there beneath the initial smell. Lips replaced the cold tip of her nose and worked their way upward, catching his earlobe and nibbling softly. A smirk ghosted across her lips as her own ears picked up on the moan that escaped the man whose legs nearly buckled beneath him. Her quick power trip was short lived and she suddenly felt herself falling backwards. A surprised gasp left her mouth when her back landed on their bed. When her legs were no longer locked around him, Cullen began his decent, trailing kisses up her stomach and making his way to her lips once again.
Uriel's distinctive chuckled filled her lover's ears and he raised an eyebrow. His rogue was smiling beneath him and there was a determined look in her eyes. “I've had a lot of time to plan this out, you know. Your coming home, I mean.”
“I didn't expect things to take so long, I--”
His response was cut short by a sudden pressure on his hips. In an instant he was the one on his back. Uriel was not a large woman, but she certainly knew how to throw around what little weight she had. He gazed up at her, half in shock half in awe. She leaned down and kissed him. “I know exactly where I want you... what noises I want to hear from you...” She rolled her hips, grinding down on his hardening member beneath his breeches. His breath hitched before he groaned a little louder than he anticipated.
“U-Uriel!” She would never tell him, but he had a habit of stuttering when he got flustered like this. She hungered for her broken name on his lips and craved the incoherent strings of words that fell from his mouth. Her head dipped and she began to slowly, but purposefully place delicate kisses on his collar bone. Fingers like icicles slide under his shirt, sending a shiver over his body. She pushed the fabric up and over his head. With the obstacle gone she could continue her decent downward. Cullen tensed beneath her with every kiss as he anticipated where this would lead. The kisses stopped, though, just above the waistline of his trousers. She peered up at him as she ran a hand over bulge between his legs. His hips bucked and his breaths came in short huffs. Her hand moved again. And again. And again. The movements were slow and her eyes never left his, watching as she squirmed and fought to maintain some level of control. He was coming undone and it was delightful. “P-please.” It was only fingertips now that traced their way up and down his still covered member.
“Please what? What do you want me to do?”
“Anything! F-for Andraste's sake, Uriel!”
Her fingers were replaced with a feather light kiss and the man beneath her hissed. She grasped at what was left of his clothing and discarded them quickly. He lay before her now, exposed and glorious. Another kiss, just as light, fell to the tip of him. He threw his head back when her tongue began tracing circles around his opening. As her speed increased, so did the radii of her circles. When she took his head in her mouth, he couldn't help but grab a fistful of that messy auburn mop that moved so fluidly between his legs. His hips thrust upward as he attempted find sweet relief in the heat of his lover's lips, but he should have known better.
“No, no, Lion Man. That's not what I had planned.” Cullen replied with a groan as he loosened his hold on her hair and eyed her carefully as she moved her mouth to the base of his now throbbing erection. With one painfully slow movement she ran her tongue along his length. She could vaguely make out the name of the saint she was supposedly the herald of along with a few choice words and smirked. With a cry, his grip on the sheets tightened as she took his whole length in his mouth. She sucked lightly, occasionally flicking her tongue over the tip to catch the salty precum that accumulated there. He no longer held her hair, but rather stroked it, running his hands through the wild cropping of red. It occurred to her that her hands had been rather idle for some time now and she snuck one under her chin to gently give the tender flesh beneath his member a squeeze.
“F--” The word never came out, but rather fell away into a growl that made Uriel weak. She continued her motions until a firm pair of hands pulled her off of her prize. “I... I won't last at that rate. I-it wouldn't be fair if--” He was always concerned with her needs, it seemed, and in the quiet hours of the early morning, she often found herself whispering her thanks to him for that.
“Then let's make it fair,” she purred, pressing kisses to his abdomen. Her lower half moved forward and she positioned herself over him, guiding him gently to herself with her hand. She hovered there for a moment, smiling down at him. Slow seemed to be the theme of the evening as she lowered herself down onto him, taking only his head at first and going lower with every dip. She leaned down and took his hands in hers, stretching them over his head. The new angle seemed to please the templar and his hips bucked up to meet hers, causing him to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves at her core. “Cullen!” Both their speeds increase until their breaths grew ragged. The ache for release was strong between the two of them, but Cullen was determined to hold off his until his lover was ready. “M-Ma'arla-- E... Lath--” Just as Uriel would never discuss her lion's stuttering, Cullen would never tell how her calls of broken Elvish thrilled him. With one final thrust, he felt her tighten around him, calling his name as she rode out her own climax and brought him to his.
Together their bodies shook and moved with each other until Uriel could no longer stay up. She let herself collapse into him and smiled as lazily kissed her way up to his mouth. She felt a quick shiver from her partner beneath her and laughed. “It's been awe awfully cold without you.”
“Then let's make sure you stay warm, then,” Cullen chuckled as he adjusted the furs and pulled them up over their tangled limbs. They fell asleep tucked against each other. Sleep was easy that night.