A/N: Hey all! Just a quick prompt fill for the K!meme. I intentionally left out any description/naming of the Herald as it is meant to fit into anyone's head canon. Enjoy. ;)

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"You'll remember when I told you the old mine wasn't safe? This is the kind of scenario I was imagining."

"You didn't tell me the floor was going to be dropping out from under me!"

"That kind of goes without saying when the words "old" and "mine" are in the same sentence together. Maker, no one ever listens."

The timbers groaned overhead, and the Inquisitor found herself instinctively pressing closer to her Commander should any more debris come falling down round their heads. A Commander, she reflected, she wasn't sure she even liked, but here they were, stuck in some old crumbling mine shaft barely large enough to fit the both of them - and her body was pressed quite firmly up against his.

May it never be said that Cullen was anything but impossibly fit beneath all of that armor, and it was especially clear to her now that he had forgone his normal plate to come after her when she'd ignored his warnings to not venture out this way. Could she honestly be angry while pinned against one of the most gorgeous men in all her acquaintance? Yes. Yes she could.

"Look, the requisition officer keeps bothering me to find more iron deposits nearby, so I figured a mine would be a great place to start looking for a vein. Can you blame me?"

"Absolutely. If we needed iron nearby, don't you think our scouts would have mentioned this place if it were serviceable?"

She didn't want to concede that he was probably right, instead using his thigh - now trapped between her own in their precarious position - as leverage to stretch herself up to try and reach the wooden slats lining the walls of the shaft. Perhaps if she could reach one, she could climb her way out. As it was, she could see no other options, and the only light was that which was filtering down to them from above.

"You are so infuriating," she grunted, stretching again.

Her movements pressed the heat of her core against his thigh, and brought her chest up to his eye level. "Look who's talking," he ground out. "What on earth are you doing?"

The Herald reached again, her thigh pressing with blessedly perfect pressure against his groin.

"I'm trying to reach this slat so I can get a foothold and maybe climb out of here."

"And free-hand fifty feet straight back up to the surface? Even if you could manage it, it's likely the timbers wouldn't hold your weight. They're far too old and soggy to serve as anything but mulch."

She sighed, abandoning her quest for the moment to meet his gaze. Even in the dim light, she could see their amber coloring practically glowing in her direction.

"Well, Mr. Optimistic, what do you suggest we do?"

She shifted her posture once more, reclining against her side of the shaft wall. The movement almost made Cullen jump, for when the angle of her knee came abruptly upward, she had been perilously close to neutering him with the pointy end of her shin guard.

Though he was undoubtedly uncomfortable, he was thankful for small mercies. Even so, he really did need her to get that damned sharp implement away from his more tender parts.

"I need you to move," he said, voice a bit strained.

"What? Why?" Her back slid further down the wall, bringing the tip of her shin guard much too close for comfort - not that it had necessarily been comfortable before.

Unable to wait for her to puzzle it out, he grabbed both of her hands and tugged her up against him, relieving the pressure from her armor, but replacing it with that of her pelvis as it fit snugly against his own while her feminine heat once again warmed his thigh.

"Your knee was not in a comfortable place."

Maker-damned mine shaft, he groused, beginning to recite the Chant of Light to keep himself from relishing in the pleasure of her body pressed so fittingly against his own.

She drew in a shaky breath, though whether she was just as affected as he was by their proximity was something he was trying very hard not to think about.

"Oh. Ah...um, I'm sorry. I didn't realize." She was practically laying on top of him, his thigh caged between her legs in such a way that she only just realized how suggestive her position was. Oh, Maker.

She shifted a bit, trying to relieve some of the budding pressure at her core when she noticed Cullen was similarly affected. His hardened length dug into the soft flesh of her hip. Her body was not immune to the very obvious invitation of the feel of Cullen's generously endowed manhood pressing against her, demanding her attention. Experimentally, she shifted again, and had to strain her ears to hear his sharp intake of breath.

"Perhaps we should find a way to make a bit more room." Cullen's voice was tense, quiet, and spoke volumes of his struggle with his self-control.

She glanced around at their close quarters, her cheeks flushed and breaths coming quicker as she sat back away from him. The movement caused her to slide herself against him, and she had to try very hard not to repeat the action.

"I suppose I could try and get between your legs." The fitting comment was not lost on her. "That should give us more breathing room, and ah...I would not be laying on top of you."

Cullen nodded. "That's a start."

The Herald moved as far back as she could in the tiny space, one leg straight while she deftly folded the other close to her body and over Cullen's leg. The movement turned her around, her ass fit snugly against his groin.

Maker help her, this wasn't much of an improvement, but at least she wasn't at risk of grinding against him like some wanton fortune hunter. She was so worried about her own behavior, that she was surprised - to say the least - when Cullen's erection pressed rather insistently against her bottom. Perhaps she was imagining it, she thought, but when the Commander's arms came around to loop about her waist and pull her back against his chest, she was certain things had changed forever between them.

Tentatively, she pressed back against him, the action rewarding her with a low, tortured groan.

"Cullen?" she said breathlessly, rubbing herself against his length now.

His mouth closed urgently over the skin of her shoulder, left bare by the cut of her light armor. It journeyed upward over the thin cotton of her tunic and nibbled an affectionate little trail up to the line of her jaw.

No man's embrace had ever had such an effect on her, the mere touch of his mouth against her skin setting her nerves aflame as sure as any mage's spell. What she felt in this man's arms was indescribably thrilling.

She tilt her head to the side, allowing him more room for his affections while he simultaneously dragged his blunted fingernails up the inside of her leg. Even through the leather, the pressure of his fingers was enough to make her body shiver with anticipation and want.

"We hardly know each other," she breathed, feeling she should say it though it mattered little to her in this moment when his hand gently cupped her sex.

"On the contrary," he breathed, using the edge of one knuckle to tease her sensitive pearl through her leggings, "I believe I know you quite well."

Heat swirled through her lower body, leaving her tingling and trembling at his touch. She could hear the wicked satisfaction in his voice that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. He continued to tease her, and at the same time rocked his hips against the cleft of her bottom. It was a duality of sensation that had her moaning in his arms, writhing against him as her body sought something more.

He denied her what she wanted at first, slipping his hand much too slowly down the plane of her stomach and beneath the waistband of her breeches. Somehow the laces had been undone without her realizing it, but all coherent thought left her when the bare pad of his middle finger moved against her wet heat in one deliciously long stroke. He repeated the action again, but she needed little urging to take up the rhythm herself.

He curled two digits, and her next gyration against his hand left her slipping onto him with a shuddering moan. Once accustomed to his intrusion - a process that did not take long - she proceeded to fuck his hand while ensuring that his erection was getting plenty of attention from the smooth roll of her hips against him. When her movements became less refined - more desperate - he used his other hand to quickly free himself from the confines of his trousers.

He removed his hand from between her legs, using her readiness to slicken himself while she wriggled out of her pants. He waited just long enough for the waistband of her leggings to brush beneath her bottom before he slid himself inside of her, filling her completely.

The tension in her body caused her to shake and gasp in a needy frenzy as he slid in and out of her, and suddenly she was there. The tight coil of pressure inside of her snapped and broke loose, and she was calling his name into the curve of his neck while his husky laugh rumbled through her body.

She knew he was on the edge of his own release when she raised her arms up behind her to grab at his shoulders - or anything, really - to ground her as she rode out her orgasm. She could feel the tension in his shoulders and the erratic pace of his thrusts. Impulsively, she tried to pull him closer, deeper inside of her.

"Herald? Commander? Are you in here?"

Cullen bit down hard on her shoulder to silence himself as his release found him.

She bit her lip in her own effort to remain silent, but Cullen found enough of himself to whisper low into her ear. "We need to get out of here."

She gathered her wits despite Cullen still thrusting slowly inside of her, relishing in the feeling of her body fit so tightly around his, and called out. "H-here!"

Cullen held fast a moment before sighing against her shoulder and pulling away from her, deftly righting himself back to order while she attempted with liquid limbs to do the same.

"Remind me," she said in a breathy voice, "to disobey you more often."