Work Text:
The first time Josephine had invited him and Leliana, Cullen had been terrified.
He’d went, of course – he wouldn’t risk the ambassador’s silent wrath if he’d refused. But he’d nervously fussed the entire time, crossing and uncrossing his legs, hiding his face behind his cup of tea. Truthfully, he kept waiting for some sort of interrogation to start, the... soiree turning out to be just an excuse for the two of them to pry personal information out of him under the guise of ‘getting to know their friend better’. As if the quips they made at his expanse at the war table weren’t mortifying enough.
But they’d mostly chatted among themselves, at first – about that noble Josephine had had to deal with the other day, the state of Leliana’s spy network, Josephine insisting Leliana change her hair again – and he found himself content to just listen. To this day he refuses to admit he jumped enough to almost spill his tea when they did turn their attention to him, but it had only been to inquire after his sister’s health. How his soldiers were doing. And had he heard about the nest of newborn Nugs that had been found not a stone’s throw from Skyhold?
Mundane things. Friendly things.
It was... nice.
I mean. Sort of. As far as tea parties – sorry, interludes – went, that was. Right? Of course.
Which is why he found himself sitting in that barely big enough chair for the fourth time in a row, still publicly refusing to admit he might be... enjoying himself. He was a former Templar, after all, a Knight-Captain, and now, Commander of the Inquisition. A soldier through and through. He did not do tea parties, as he kept telling the messengers.
Except...
Taking another sip, Cullen stared intently over the rim of his cup to the table, where a very enticing plate of berries and cream was staring right back.
So maybe he had somewhat of a sweet tooth. Maybe he was particularly fond of the treat on the table and maybe he hadn’t had any in Maker knows how many years.
Alright, fine. It was his greatest weakness. But he couldn’t give in to it now. Leliana and Josephine – Josie, as she positively insisted they call her ‘off the clock’ – would never let him live it down. They simply couldn’t know.
“See something you like, Commander?”
Leliana’s voice rang sweet as bells, but the grin in her eyes was wicked. Oh Maker. She’d seen. Cullen cleared his throat.
“I—Well, it’s—I... simply hadn’t... expected there to be berries this far into the mountains, is all.” Good save.
“Leliana’s scouts discovered them on the way back from a routine mission. The Inquisitor was kind enough to plant some of the seeds in the new nursery,” Josephine commented, seemingly offhandedly as she poured Leliana some more tea. She turned her head towards him, sporting the same knowing smirk Leliana had just now.
“Perhaps you’d like to try some?”
“I, uh,” he hesitated, swallowing heavily. Oh, blast it, he thought. “Well. Can’t let all that hard work go to waste, after all.”
Josephine scooped a generous helping into a bowl and handed it to him. “No, we certainly can’t.”
After that, sweets magically made their appearance in Lady Montilyet’s quarters. Scones, chocolates, assorted fruits, and even those little pastel colored cakes you sometimes saw at cafés in Val Royeaux. When Cullen inquired after where they could possibly get all these things, Josephine and Leliana brushed it off as gifts from grateful allies, guests, or even suitors, offering him the lion’s share as they ‘did not want them to go to waste’.
Cullen stopped grumbling about going.