AN: This was inspired by a conversation on IRC the other day. What would happen if Zevran took Cullen to a brothel. Assumptions are made about Cullen's back history and personality based on my other fic 'Duty Doesn't Come for Free'. Short summation: killed some mages, ran into mage PC, got caught by a hungry hungry hippo posse, and ended up conscripted to save his life. Part 2 will be coming in a day or so..

"My dear Cullen, you can take the boy out of the Chantry, but shouldn't we try to take the Chantry out of the boy? Surely the Maker would not object to you experiencing one of the finer pleasures of his creation."


Carnal pleasures had been something Cullen denied himself all his adult life. The path of the chaste and pure shone brightest. But with his downfall from grace, his becoming a Grey Warden, he began to feel disillusioned with a life of blind worship and following. The Templars, the Chantry, both had cast him aside, completing ignoring his many years of devout service. His faith had been rocked to its core. It was for this reason that he followed Zevran to the Honeyed Peach, a rather exclusive and private brothel hidden in the sumptuous buildings of Denerim's Palace district.

Rich and intoxicating, the smell wafting about the dusky air of the brothel's main salon overwhelmed with the scents of faraway places – Orlesian perfumes and Antivan incense just two of the aromas chosen to tease the nostrils. Cullen could not help but sneeze, the rich aroma of exotic promise overpowering his bashful nose. He had never stepped into such an establishment before and if it was not for the rather persistent and persuasive talents of Zevran, he probably never would have.

The woman greeting the pair carried with her the confidence of the nobility along with the raw sensuality one might expect of Madam. Gliding steps, a floating advance, carried her towards both men. A simper of a pout adorned ruddy hued lips as she encircled one of Zevran's arms with her own. "It had been too long, Zevran. " Eyelashes batted, fingers stroked the lower body of Zevran's arm in teasing caress, an arsenal of coquettish tools was put on full display. "We had thought you left us. I wept for days."

Gallant and with just the right sprinkling of flair, Zevran swept her pale and delicate hand to his mouth, allowing his lips to linger a hair past appropriate. The rascal's smile appeared. "How could I forget such a flower as you, my sweet Sophia? Surely, I could not. You will always hold a special place in my…" Deliberate, he paused to lay a kiss along the swell of her breasts, "…heart."

Cullen stood there watching the exchange, his discomfiture growing with each passing minute. A nervous sway had taken hold as he swished and swashed back and forth. His resolve had begun to erode. "Zevran, I think…"

"That you will change your mind?" The Antivan's attentions shifted from the deliciously divine diva to his left to the blundering bashful boy at his right. "No no, that is not allowed. We have come on a mission and I fully intended to see it completed." The subject was not up for debate. "You see, my dear friend here, has, shall we say, not yet sailed the Quaking Seas," he explained, bestowing a luxuriously lazy gaze upon the velvet draped temptress. "I was hoping you might be able to provide a rather talented and skilled navigator for his virgin voyage."

Red lips spun in licentious smile, delight dancing within heavily made up eyes. "Oh my dear, Zev, we most certainly can aid your friend in his journey. But I must know, does he prefer a more full bodied vintage or something, perhaps, a bit more…" Her voice dropped an octave, oozing conspiratorial, "…delicate and refined?" Her heated gaze took in Cullen, raking slowly from tip to top.

All the innuendo about his inexperience and Sophia's rather debauched and open inspection brought a blush -- bright, red and hot -- to Cullen's face. Was this what it felt like to be trapped in a black widow's web? And could they stop talking about him as if he was not in the room? Further discomfort brought the nervous motion of his hand, shifting the hang of his pants as if loosening the fabric at the front might make any examination more difficult.

"My friend has a weakness for dark haired beauties with eyes of chocolate brown." Nothing but trouble could come from the smile that slid serpentine across Zevran's mouth and Cullen knew it. It wasn't hard to see what might come next. "If she could perhaps wear a mage's robe, my friend would be beside himself with joy." Nothing but trouble.

He felt a rush of involuntary excitement trip fantastic at the mention of the robes. Deep furrows marred Cullen's brow, a general look of displeasure invading his expression. He had been too transparent. And while he knew that particular cat had been out of the bag for some time, it didn't help soften the rush of embarrassment at hearing someone verbalize: He totally wants to do a mage, you see. Big time! This was beginning to seem like more and more of a bad idea.

Light, Sophia patted the top of Zevran's before unfurling herself from his rather welcomed embrace. "I will be back in a moment. I have the perfect…" Lips pressed together, ripe with mischief. "...navigator for the Captain." A chuckle bubbled from her mouth as she disappeared behind the silken mass of a heavily embroidered curtain, leaving the two men alone.

The Captain? Cullen couldn't help but arch his brow at the nickname. "Zevran, I'm not so sure this is a good idea anymore. I had thought…" The Reddening, sequel to Cullen's prior blush, soon began to play across his features. His eyes glanced sideways as his foot shuffled restless against the ground. But a whisper, he continued, "…it would be special." It wasn't that he expected rainbows and prancing unicorns to be present. But he did have ideas of love being a necessary attendee at this kind of 'Joining'. He just wanted to roll himself up into a little ball and go hide in a corner.

Raucous laughter erupted from Zevran. "Oh, I assure you, it shall be very special. That is something of which you should not worry, my friend. Sophia specializes in the special."

As if on cue, the curtains parted, Sophia returning. Trailing behind her was a tantalizing morsel swathed in robes of green and gold. To say the robe was form fitting was an understatement. The curve of her hips, the slender width of her waist and the rise of her breasts all found compliment in the intimate hug of leather and silk. Just bordering on obscene, a side slit on the robe traveled up the green stocking covered path of a slender leg, hinting at the hidden treasures beneath. It was definitely a brothel's version of a 'sexy witch' costume. Dark hair was drawn at the nape of the woman's neck, woven into a single braid that extended down the middle of her back. Dewy skin only helped to further compliment her already delicate facial features.