for sam

[samahl]

Inquisitor Cyril Lavellan had a bit of a reputation. He was kind and passionate and he played the Game with the best of them, but he also was known to be a bit of a flirt. He could often be seen flustering his military adviser and was never above charming nobles by teasing them. Enemies played up the rumors and made him sound like a hyper sexual elf who rose to power by bending over for the right people - never mind that he preferred men and most of the people who put him in power were women, or that they had done so because of his mark.

Despite his flirtatious ways, though, no one actually had reliable stories of taking him to bed. People assumed he and Dorian Pavus were lovers, but Dorian never said a word about the two sleeping together. Anyone who saw Cyril interact with The Iron Bull at the tavern might also assume the two of them were fucking, but again Bull never seemed to actually make it to Cyril's room.

Cyril was a flirt, but he was also very closed off. He considered people his friends, but he was extremely protective of his heart. He used to sleep around easily, but now with his position it felt like anyone who might be interested in him would care more about his throne. So he found himself falling uncomfortably into celibacy.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Then one day he was riding his Dalish All-Bred, a beautiful black and white horse, when the horse tossed him. It was so unexpected. The animal had had no problems riding close to Rifts and demons but a silly fennec had spooked it by running too near a fire and casting a long shadow.

He felt his arm break and screamed. Solas was there, as the mage had been travelling with him, as was Bull and Dorian. They had gotten him back to the Inquisition camp. Despite traveling with two mages, neither of them were spirit healers. They set the bone as well as they could and then made plans to return to Skyhold.

The moment he returned to the castle, Cyril went to the healers tents. He was grateful he had made the mages allies, it meant they were near to heal him.

Comments

[samahl]

Cyril's grin widens a bit as he watches Sam respond to seeing him. He can't help but find the mage a bit adorable when he's flustered.

"My arm," he holds up the splinted arm. "My horse threw me during our last trip and broke it. Solas was able to reset the bone and splint it but I was hoping for something a bit more, uh, spiritual?" he teases a bit, being coy. "I'm an archer after all. The sooner I can use my arm again, the better."

[el_tybs]

Well he feels a bit silly. The splint was painfully obviously - no pun intended - that there was something wrong with the Inquisitor's arm. It was just... well... this was the first time he was meeting the elf face to face.

"That does sound like it would cause an issue," he agrees, still wrapping his head around the situation. "Um, right." Blinking out of his slight stupor, Sam looks around quickly to locate his chair, grabbing it by an edge and dragging it over. Sitting down he reaches out, but stops short of actually touching. "May I?" he asks, hand sweeping towards the splint.

[samahl]

"Of course," Cyril said. He offered his arm to Sam. As the mage looked him over he grinned.

"You know, you're awfully handsome when you're flustered. What's your name?"

[el_tybs]

He's careful when he takes the arm into hand, first inspecting on how it was splint; looked like it was done well. Before he could do much else though Sam finds himself distracted from his job, eyes widening again when he looks up at the Inquisitor.

Handsome? Not typically something he hears around here, less so from an important figure. "It's Gareth, sir. Samouel Gareth. And, no I didn't particularly know that."

[samahl]

"Samouel Gareth," Cyril tries out the name and likes the way the vowels worth together in his voice. "That's a nice name. Almost as nice as your jaw..." Cyril is openly checking him out now, trying to see if he can get him to blush.

[el_tybs]

The immediate response is 'thank you', but before he can even sound out the first syllable he's once again made speechless. He was being complimented by the Inquisitor, which in itself was something, but it was the fact that he was being complimented on his physical appearance. Now that he was actually paying attention he could actually see that he was being looked over.

It certainly brings a flush to the mage's cheeks, not particular used to this kind of attention. At least not here in the infirmary. "Thank you?"

[samahl]

The blush does something odd to Cyril's chest. He was expecting to think it adorable but instead it feels like butterflies are suddenly trapped inside of him. He's too practiced hiding his emotions to show any hint of it though, instead he just grins and considers his arm.

"So what do you think? Are we going to have to amputate?" he's joking, of course, Solas took care to prevent that - something that in a few years time Cyril will find rather ironic.

[el_tybs]

And just like that the conversation goes back to something Sam is more familiar with. For a long few moments he just stares at the Inquisitor - that must have been rumored flirting everyone was talking about? - before shaking his head slightly, as if to clear it, and looks back at the arm.

"I hardly think we'll have to be that extreme in treatment." Slowly, Sam starts to unwrap the bandages, humming lightly when he sees where the bruising is. "We won't be able to heal it all right now, though. So you'll have to take it easy for a bit while we do treatment."

[samahl]

"Oh drat, I'll have to halt that party trick where I walk around on my hands while spinning dinner plates with a feet," Cyril teases easily. He looks like he's in pain but his voice is calm and reassuring.

"I'll also have to think of some other way to pass my time... Do you have any ideas?" His tone easily slips into something more suggestive.

[el_tybs]

The sarcasm does manage to pull a small smile from Sam, but it slips away easily, noting the flinch of pain when his fingers got too close to the break. Getting up his chair he moves to a cabinet under the desk ans rummages through a few potions.

"Well I wouldn't go riding just yet," he responds, not picking up on the tone right away. It's clear that once he turns around with a healing potion and stops, he's caught onto it finally. "Horses," he clarifies, clearing his throat.

Dear Maker was it warm in this tent?

[samahl]

"Does that mean I can ride other things?" Cyril asks. His eyes obviously lower and gaze at Sam's groin for a moment. "As long as we don't jerk around this arm? I mean, I do have a perfectly good one here." He waves his other hand.

[el_tybs]

Sam raises a hand to cough into, clearing his throat a bit after noticing the pointed gaze. Yes, he understood where the Inquisitor was going with that.

"Yes, I suppose if you wanted to, so long as you both are careful about the arm." It's obvious that the healer thinks the Inquisitor is talking about his lover, which ever one that might be. "I wouldn't push it though," he warns gently.

"Here, drink this. It should help with some of the pain." He offers the potion, taking his seat once again before lifting Cyril's arm gently.

[samahl]

Cyril drinks the potion and then focuses on the way that Sam gently touches him. With everyone else, this would be the moment he would pull away and be careful not to cross the line.

Maybe it's the pain making him weak, or the fact that Sam is so careful with him, or maybe just loneliness, but he doesn't pull away this time.

"It would probably be best if I was partaking in rides with someone who understood my condition then, hm?" he keeps his gaze on Sam's face now, wanting to see how he'll respond. "You, for instance, would be an ideal candidate."

[el_tybs]

He's very much aware of the fact that the Inquisitor was looking right at him. Even so he keeps his gaze down, trying to focus on the broken arm. It's pretty difficult.

He hums lightly in agreement that a partner who knew of the situation would be ideal. Was he really having a sex conversation with the Inquisitor? He's still trying to wrap his head around that when he's suddenly becoming a 'candidate'.

"Pardon me?" Finally looking up he blinks, though it's quite clear he had heard what was said if the bright red on his cheeks were anything to go by.

[samahl]

The blush is just too endearing. Cyril's brow raises a bit. "You don't seem terribly opposed to the idea of being with a man, otherwise you wouldn't be so flustered." He sounds a little amused as he speaks.

"Are you already spoken for? I'd hate to intrude on another person's relationship..." The potion is starting to kick in and making him feel better but also a little loopy.

"That is unless they're also male and would like to join in. It's been a while since I had a good threesome. At least as long as this thing has been in my hand." The anchor is in the arm that isn't broken and he raises it to show off the green glow. He considers it and then hums. "Hmm... maybe we hold off on the idea of hand jobs until I know for sure if this will affect my partner in any way."

He looks over at Sam again, just to see if he's given the mage a heart attack yet.

[el_tybs]

A heart attack, no, but he's certainly managed to turn him a shade of red, as well as leave him rather speechless. Part of it was still the fact this was the Inquisitor sitting in front of him. Another part was that the Inquisitor was asking him about sex, with him no less. Maybe?

Or was the Inquisitor simply using shock tactics on him to amuse himself while his arm was being patched up? That thought has the corners of his lips turning upward, but they quickly drop when he considers that the elf could seriously be asking him.

"Why me?" Had he just blurted that out? Seemed like it. He's surprised he's being propositioned truth be told..

[samahl]

Cyril looks over Sam's body. "Have you seen you?" he asks thoughtfully. "You're gorgeous."

Then, after a moment, he sighs. "I understand why you might not, though. I imagine I'm rather intimidating now. I used to be able to charm humans and sleep with them without a care, but now anyone I take to my bed is going to be the subject of rumor and gossip. I wouldn't want to drag you into that, not when all you're doing is being adorable and helping with my arm."

[el_tybs]

Once more he's quiet, listening intently to what the Inquisitor had to say, brow raising slightly through half of it. Even when he's done Sam doesn't talk, just quietly turns his eyes to the injured arm and starts to cast his healing magic.

"I suppose rumor and gossip would be something to consider," he eventually says a minute later breaking the silence. By now the flush has lessened and he's keeping his focus on Cyril's arm.

"I'm not exactly used to people coming into my tent and talking to me about anything outside of their injury. Much less fucking." After saying that Sam looks up for a moment before looking back down with a shrug. "Is that a serious offer?" That was probably the biggest thing here, not sure if it was just talk.

[samahl]

"I only ever made serious offers," Cyril replied. He offered Sam a small smile. "If you'd prefer to get to know each other first, I'll be stuck in Skyhold at least until my arm heals. I'm no use on missions without my bow."

[el_tybs]

"I believe I would like that, Inquisitor." After all he was going to have to see him for the better part of the week to get that arm fixed. Also getting to know Cyril as a person would certainly help him relax, seeing as right now he was just a powerful figure head at the moment.

"I'm going to recommend no overly strenuous activity if you want this arm to heal faster," he points out. "So a bow you said?"

[samahl]

Cyril nods. "That's right. I was a Hunter with my Clan before the Conclave and learned to use a bow at an early age."

[el_tybs]

"And now you're Inquisitor. That is certainly a jump." The last bit is said in the way of knowing the feeling. Well, he didn't know what being the Herald was like, but suddenly being thrust into a new life he did.

"You must miss your Clan."

[samahl]

Cyril has to think about that. "I miss... certain people," he admits after a moment. "I miss the freedom. I miss being able to do things without a care. I miss the smells and the feeling of wild dirt under my feet. But the Clan itself... That's a little different."

[el_tybs]

"Oh?" He leaves it there so that Cyril was free to elaborate on that if he pleased, but he was honestly curious to hear a Dalish not being in love with their Clan. Course he didn't know any other than the Inquisitor.

"I'd say you could take this time to enjoy the outdoors more but I suppose snow and rock wouldn't be as enjoyable."

[samahl]

"The garden here is nice," he says thoughtfully. "And my Clan and I had...disagreements..." He's quiet as he thinks about it. "I think that's why the Keeper sent me away."