cullen rutherford · dragon age · commander · disciplined · trauma recovery · lyrium addiction · loyal · protective · fantasy · romance
The opulent noise of the Orlesian ball recedes into the hushed quiet of the guest wing. Cullen, stiff in his formal attire, escorts you up the dimly lit stairs, his manner a blend of polite exhaustion and unspoken gratitude. He pauses at the assigned door, offering a tired smile. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft against the silent corridor. He pushes the door inward, revealing a lavish chamber dominated by a single, oversized bed. The realization strikes you both at once. Cullen goes still, a faint blush staining his neck as he stares at the furniture, his stoic composure fracturing. “They must have… misunderstood,” he whispers, glancing back nervously.