a smut for @annemayfair based on Fenlin being terrible at falling for only one person at a time,
The Chantry of Denerim was lit with thousands of red candles, the Revered Mother waiting next to Oran who wasn't able to stop fidgeting. Fenlin couldn't help but smile under the veil over her face, especially as the fidgeting stopped and he saw her.
Walking down on her father's arm, Fenlin wore an elven dress in the style of the ancients. Soft silk the colour of bone floated behind her, the flowers in her hair holding the chantry style veil over her face. Everyone else faded away as she reached the dias and took Oran's hands. Glancing back, she saw Rahlen's face in the shadows, but it was only there for a moment before the chantry was replaced with a room filled with red candles, a bed and little else.
"Fenlin," Oran whispered, pushing the veil back and cupping her face. "Maker, I love you."
Blinking, Fenlin opened her mouth to try to ask what had happened, but the words that came out were different.
"I love you, husband."
What?
He pulled her to him, smelling like lavender and boiled leather. His lips were soft, at first. But she could feel the vibrating energy in him, especially as she rested a hand on his arm. He was practically trembling as he pulled his lips back from hers for a breath. He didn't go far, soon his lips were on hers again, hard and insistent, his hands trembling as they pushed silk back from her shoulders and guided her back to the bed.
There was guilt coiled in her belly, but Fenlin wasn't sure who it was over. As Oran's lips trailed along her jaw to just below her ear, the soft whimper was genuine. So was the warmth in her chest as he carefully lifted her onto the bed, his hands slowly exploring soft and scarred skin.
She moaned as he ran his lips over her earlobe, a hardness in his trousers pressing against her thigh. Still, Fenlin started with Oran's doublet, pushing it back over his shoulders, hands running over dense muscle and scar tissue. She shivered as he groaned agianst her ear, and whimpered as a hand slipped down over one of her breasts.
"Wife," he whispered into her ear, his hand slipping lower still, to find the inner thigh already growing slick with want. His lips trailed light kisses down her throat to her collar bones, to her chest. Fenlin shuddered and arched into his mouth as soft lavender tasting lips closed around a nipple, her fingers abandoning the laces of his trousers, now out of reach. Instead she slid her fingers into his hair, nails dragging over the skin at the nape of his neck as he brushed a finger along her slit.
"Oh gods," she whispered, head tilting back. And Oran, sweet Oran, kissed his way lower. And lower, over the belly that could scarcely stay still as fluttering breaths and murmurs filled Fenlin's lungs. He kissed the point of a hip bone, trailing a lazy lick along the crease where her leg joined her hips. And then, Mythal's mercy, lavender kisses found her slit. A long, slow lick pressed between her lower lips, and Fenlin shuddered, the moan in her throat caught by the surprise pleasure.
The first lick was only theh beginning, his lips found her button, the small nub of flesh that felt like electricity, and Fenlin barely felt the fingers that teased at her before pressing in so slowly. Achingly so.
"Oran," she begged, grabbing at the sheets now as he wound the heat and pressure in her belly like it was a spring, coiling it tighter and tighter with every kiss, every lick and curl of his fingers. Her breathing was ragged, a sheen of sweat on her skin, and when he pulled back, just as she was nearing the edge of a climax, she looked up, entreating and frustrated.
He met her lips with his, pressing her back to the bed. He tasted like her, and the kiss was hard, his body shaking with barely held back need.
Fenlin wrapped herself around him, arms around his shoulders, and her legs drawing up along his to hook around his his hips and offer herself up to him. He was hard, harder than she'd thought could ever be possible. But how long had he waited? The thick pressure against her pushed away the thought, and their kiss broke so he could bury his face into the crook of her neck.
"Fuck Fen, you're so small," he groaned, and she moaned as he pressed in further, spreading her to her limit. She shivered and whimpered into his shoulder as he slowly filled her, careful to be gentle despite the thrumming power just under his skin.
"I love you," he mumbled into her neck, kissing her as he started to rock his hips.
"My husband," she whispered, holding on tight to him. She hadn't been far from her peak, and now, she knew that neither was he. They clung to each other, finding the movement that worked best for them, for the thickness that seemed to nudge at parts of her that Fen hadn't thought existed.
Right as she was about to crest, she felt the dream slipping away. Blinking, Fenlin stared up at the ceiling of the Inn's room. Potato was sleeping at the foot of the bed, and even with no one there to see, Fenlin's face was hot. All of her was hot, and she bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as she slipped a hand between her legs to try to chase the release the dream had promised.
As she shuddered and gasped, she wasn't sure which name was on her lips, which dark haired man she imagined over her. Only as she fell back, breathless and shamed, did Fenlin realise she was in more trouble than she'd first thought. She'd only known them for days at most, but already her heart was torn.
"Fuck..." she panted, looking at the shuttered window. Tomorrow she'd go and tell Oran about what happened at the temple, what had happened with Rahlen. Rolling onto her front, she buried her face into her pillow and muffled the scream of frustration.
The dragon might have worn the shape of a man with arms and legs, but Fenlin could see the smoke that curled from his nostrils and mouth. It kissed her skin as he pressed her back into the cushions, his hands --talons?-- tearing away the sheer silks that remained of her dress. Fingertips or talons, he left fire on her skin, burning her in a way she'd never once thought possible.
Air rushed from her lungs as he pressed onto her, the thick heat of him aready pressing against her belly, hotter still than the breath he spilled out onto her neck. His touch slipped up along her thighs, dipping inside to run along her and determine if she needed him as much as he needed her. Even if there had been no magic at work, the thud of her heart in her chest and the fire in her blood told Fenlin that she would be putty in this dragon's hands. Regardless of any Tevinter influence.
He growled, pleased to find her so slick from the ceremony. His strength was supernatural, and he rolled her onto her belly, scooping her hips up and back to press against his. The heat of his cock brushed against her belly and Fenlin shivered, a silent moan hidden by the mask strapped to her face.
She could feel his fire-breath over her shoulders, her neck, and then the thickness of him pressed against her. She was no innocent by now, but this was different somehow. She bit her lip, a silent whimper unheard as the thick tip of Dumat spread her open. He didn't allow her the luxury of time to adjust, however. Strong arms pulled her back against his chest, pulling her down onto him as he pressed his hips up, sinking slowly into her until Fenlin was sure that there was just no more room.
How could a mortal hope to ever contain a dragon? The groan of pleased pride against her ear was nearly lost in the sensation of being filled completely, of feeling a pulse not her own thrumming through her veins.
"Mine," he groaned into her ear, and Fenlin tilted her head back, sucking in a sharp breath as he pulled out of her only to thrust right back in. Her hands betrayed her, just as her heart and body was, as they reached back to cup the nape of Dumat's neck, and grip the arm that held onto her hip, moving her on him.
If the acolytes of Dumat's cult were still watching, still chanting, Fenlin no longer noticed. Her blood and heartbeat were the drums of their music, the groans of Dumat into her ear the wordless chant that drove them both forward. He was far from the only one struggling for air, for sanity, but Fenlin's voice was twice stolen. Once by the healing spirit, then again by the dragon that had buried himself within her.
His spare hand slipped down, finding the small nub of flesh that sent electricity through her entire body. Her nails dug into his skin and her breath grew ragged. Dumat was determined to embarrass her in front of his congregation, it seemed, but what could Fenlin do but hold on as he brought her to the very edge of pleasure, his thick cock buried inside of her, while one hand held her tight against his hips and the other rolled her button between a finger and thumb.
She crested with numbed lips and tingling fingers, a half apology on her lips, half prayer to her new god who mercilessly urged her through the climax around him. Somehow, through the starbursts of pins and needles, she felt his hips twitch and a heat fill her.
But neither sensation was allowed to last before a strong hand pressed the middle of her back down, forcing her chest and cheek into the cushioned dias where they fucked. Blinking, Fenlin saw dark figures cloaked and chanting swim in front of her eyes, but the Dragon was relentless. Still within her, she felt his sharp teeth on the back of her neck, his growls sending shivers down her spine to where he was still buried within her, still hard. Still hot as the sun itself.
Mythal help her, Fenlin rolled her hips back onto him, shuddering as she felt the tip of him nudge deeper still, against the very end of her, and pressing still to an almost painful degree as he placed first one hand then the other beyond her shoulders.
"Again," he commanded, and she was helpless, complying immediately. Her hips rolled back onto him again and again, beginning a lazy rhythm that would never be allowed to last.
His mask was gone, she realised, spotting it on the flagstones beyond the dias. But she still felt the heat of his fire breath, the sharpness of his teeth on her neck and ear and shoulder. This was no man, this was Dumat himself, the Old god, returned to fuck her until she was nothing left but a puddle of elf and sex.
They continued through the night, every time she thought there was a reprieve, Dumat found a way to surprise her. When he finally grew soft, she flopped onto her back, gasping for breath. Her mask was long torn off so her lips could be claimed just as her puss had been. His musk was still strong on her tongue as he pressed his lips to hers, his fingers pressing into her so that she would not want for even a moment.
Shuddering, she mewled silent nothings into his mouth, feeling his fingers press his come back into her, using it to keep her slick as though he hadn't been enough to keep her seeing starbursts time after time. And yet, they should have been exhausted long ago, laying onto the cushions to catch their breath and rest aching muscles.
Something, be it magic or drugged water, kept her slick and pliant, begging her dragon for more.
Polonius, the cultists, had said she would be devoured tonight, but so far the dragon had been intent on pleasing her, ensuring that for every wet heat climax he unleashed into her, she shuddered and called upon slumbering gods with silent words.
She was dazed, barely able to think as her head lolled back onto the cushions to see the sky turning gold. Dawn?
Her dragon was behind her, holding her back to his chest as he thrust into her. Whatever seed he had left would soon empty into her, though she was overflowing with him by now. Her tongue still tasted him, her lips ached from his hungry kisses, and her belly throbbed from his attention and single-minded desire.
"Mine," he groaned into her ear, his hand slipping up to cup her breast. Every nerve fucked raw, Fenlin shuddered, whimpering as yet another roll of pleasure overtook her. Whispered words somehow made their way past her lips, her finger tips digging into his arm, his scalp as her body welcome one last flood of lust.
Blinking, the fog of the night finally clearing, she looked over her shoulder, and gasped.
Rahlen had been pacing along the cell, back and forth, back and forth until his still-healing leg began to weaken. With an annoyed groan, he flopped down onto the cot and glared at the scar that still marred his thigh. It was smaller now, less puckered and no longer down to the bone, but he almost preferred the way it used to look.
This was what Polonius was holding over Fenlin's head. Rahlen's weakness, forcing the elf to... to fight and- he tried not to think about where she and the other victors were now. The only thing he knew was that they weren't at the gladiatorial compound.
Hanin lay on the cot next to Rahlen's, silently watching as Rahlen had paced, and paced, and paced. THe only benefit to the evening was that finally the Master and guards had moved the prince to the main barracks. He wasn't the little prize carrot to Polonius's stick anymore.
Something twisted in his gut. Something unfamiliar. Was he no longer a priority because the elf Fen had fought was... important to her? Rahlen remembered the way Fenlin had literally run away when the rainwater interrupted the only time they'd kissed. And they had been more than just kissing. He could remember the taste of salt on her neck, and wondered if now she'd taste of dust and sweat. Would someone else be pressing their mouth to her tonight?
Rahlen clapped his hands over his face and groaned in frustration. He needed to stop thinking of how she'd looked in that costume Polonius had made her wear. Of the way she'd moved on the sand and the way she'd thrown herself onto the other elf, like she'd found her long lost lover.
"Fuck," Rahlen mumbled into his hands.
"Well," Hanin said, from a few feet away. "If you insist."
Rahlen pulled his hands down over his face, leaving them over his lips for a moment. He glanced at his cellmate who had propped himself up on an elbow. The thought was appealing, and Rahlen realised with a start that he'd never had a type before. But now, looking at the man across from him, Rahlen realised he did. Fair haired elves seemed to be a weakness he easily succumed to.
"Tonight's not a great night to tease me," Rahlen said, rolling onto his back to stare at the cell's plastered cieling.
"Who said I wouldn't deliver after teasing?" Haning asked. Rahlen heard the man shift and when he glanced over from the corner of his eyes, Rahlen saw that Hanin was sitting on the edge of his own cot, forearms braced on his knees, watching him with hooded eyes. "We could both use a little relief after what we've been through. Don't you think?"
Hanin stood, walking over to kneel in front of Rahlen, a slow smile pulling at his lips.
Rahlen ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his lips, and made to sit up. Hanin caught him by the shoulders, pressing him back down to the cot. Carefully, Hanin straddled the larger man, nudging the tip of Rahlen's nose with his own before Rahlen grew impatient and caught the elf's lips in a kiss.
**
Fenlin stood in the middle of the courtyard, hands clasped tight together, the decorative golden bracelets on her small wrists looking just like a bracelet instead of the decorative shackles they were. A thin chain, probably enchanted, linked the two bracelets, and Fenlin kept winding it nervously through her fingers. A similar decorative collar hung around her neck, the chain just loose enough for a pair of fingers to hook through it, as Polonius had demonstrated earlier.
The master had told her to wait in the courtyard until the 'buyer' of the evening arrived. She debated if the chain would be strong enough to act as a garrotte, or if she was too weak to strangle whoever it was that arrived. As the curtains to the villa proper were drawn back, Fenlin swallowed, surprised to see a couple there. They wore silks far beyond anything Fenlin could imagine, shot through with black and red.
"She's smaller than I thought she'd be," the wife giggled into her husband's ear. The man just grinned, and motioned towards the curtained doorway that they'd just exited through, and Fenlin swallowed again. She couldn't fight more than two, even if they were heavily laden down with silk and gold.
But the man that walked out into the torchlight wasn't a stranger. Fenlin's breath caught, and she felt her ears going red. She looked down, shy and unable to meet Athim's gaze. It felt like fire and she- they were just friends. Walking out to greet her, a similar gold collar around his neck, though the bracelets were not linked together, Athim caught her chin and tilted her face up to look at him.
"<I won't let the shemlen hurt you,>" he said quietly in elvhen. "From the moment I saw you in the arena, when I realised it was you... I knew I had to have you. <Play along, they only want to watch. And if it's not this sweet couple, Favus waits in the wings.>"
Fenlin stared, eyes wide. The conflicting information sent her reeling, and she nodded numbly, unsure what else to do. Athim leaned down, kissing just the corner of her mouth.
"Maker, Mathias look, they are in love," the wife said, clinging to her husband. "Come, come, let's not waste any more time. You must have so much to catch up on." The woman bit her lip and shivered slightly. "I want to see how wild elves do it."
**
"Fuck," groaned Rahlen, his hips bucking up as Hanin pulled away the Prince's loincloth. The elf's breath was hot on Rahlen's belly, spilling over his skin in delicious huffs. Rahlen's fingers tangled into Hanin's hair, and he shuddered as the hot breath dipped lower. Hot, slick, the elf's tongue pressed to the base of Rahlen's cock. Half hard already, Rahlen felt himself twitch, and he bit his lip to keep from being any louder.
The barracks were far from sound proof, and the last thing Rahlen wanted right now was to be interrupted.
Hanin seemed intent to make Rahlen lose his composure, however. The prince watched as the man lazily licked up along his cock, half lidded eyes watching Rahlen's expression through white lashes. Rahlen bit the inside of his palm to try to stifle the low groan that Hanin teased out of him.
"If you don't slow down, you'll embarrass me," Rahlen panted. It had been... a while since he'd even taken matters in hand. The last time had been the bathhouse and the thought of that just made him harder.
"I don't want that," Hanin mumbled, lips pressing light kisses along the length of Rahlen's shaft.
"What do you want?" Rahlen asked, brushing his fingers through that beautiful white hair again. "This isn't just about me."
Hanin gave a last, long lick before crawling up along Rahlen's body to stop nose-to-nose with him. Rahlen watched him, his own hand sliding down to brush over the elf's cock, hard and nudging at his belly. It was pink and twitching against Rahlen's belly as he curled his fingers around Hanin to stroke him.
"I want..." Hanin said, bu he stopped, had to swallow a moan, "I want to ride you. But I don't have any-"
"I do," Rahlen said a little too quickly. "It's supposed to keep the scar soft, but it's just oil. It could-"
Hanin nodded, pushing his hips into Rahlen's hand. "Where is it?" The elf asked breathlessly. "I'll get it."
**
At first, Fenlin couldn't help but feel the Tevene couple in the corner of the bedroom, cuddled together on a couch. She glanced over her shoulder as Athim pulled her onto the silk-draped bed.
"Are you sure?" He murmured, pulling her close. His lips were by her ear, his voice too quiet for the couple to overhear. They thought he was murmuring soft nothings to her. "We could, try to find another way."
Fenlin closed her eyes, shutting out the sounds of rustling silks and the thought of the Templar who was waiting for her to say no. This was... this was something she never expected, never dreamed of, even.
But she wanted to feel the touch of someone who knew her, who knew who she was before this horrid adventure had began. Athim was as close to home as she had right now, and the idea of being with him wasn't an...unappealing one.
Fenlin shook her head once. This was comfort, this was finding out who her friend had become, this was saving herself from something much worse. And this was preventing any further anger from Polonius. She slipped her arms around him, the chain linking her bracelets brushing over his bare back, where parallel scars now would remind her that she'd tried to kill him, by accident.
"And may Fen'Harel take you," he whispered into her ear, and Fenlin couldn't help it, she burst into silent laughter, her head tipping back. The laughter ended quickly as Athim bit at her neck. The silent shaking of her shoulders turned into a fluttered gasp.
He lifted her legs up around his hips, settling her on his lap, her back to the couple so that she wouldn't have to see them. Fenlin tried to whisper a thank you, but as ever, no sound came out.
**
It was Hanin's turn to bite his lip, shuddering as he tried to hold back a moan. Rahlen grinned mercilessly, pressing an oil slicked finger into the elf's ass slowly. The view above him was worth a wait, and Rahlen's grin only widened as he curled his finger to brush along the front wall of Hanin's ass. Watching the elf's pretty cock twitch, the tip already leaking, Rahlen was tempted to just keep fingering the man until he lost himself. But the thought of feeling Hanin around him drove Rahlen to press in a second finger, slowly easing Hanin up to the cock what waited below the elf's hips.
"Abyss," Hanin groaned, shoving his face into Rahlen's shoulder. His breath had caught, and Rahlen was pleased to feel the whimper that slipped out from Hanin's throat. "If your fingers feel this good, I might be the one not to last."
"Good," Rahlen murmured, pulling the elf up and into a kiss. Without pulling his lips from Hanin's, Rahlen eased his fingers free and guiding his cock to the slick hole he'd taken care to prepare.
They groaned together as Hanin eased down slowly, taking in the tip of Rahlen, thicker than any finger could be. Rahlen let the other man guide the pace, more than happy to watch as his cock slowly slid up into Hanin. The elf eased and adjusted, taking his time until finally, blessedly, settled onto Rahlen's hips completely, the Prince's cock buried in the heir completely.
"Fuck," Rahlen said thickly, barely able to manage even that.
Hanin just nodded, stealing a last searing kiss before he braced his hands on Rahlen's shoulders and started to move. Slow at first, and Rahlen watched as Hanin's face reflected each gasp and shudder of pleasure as he adjusted to the feeling of Rahlen filling him up. But neither of them could last much longer at such a slow pace. Rahlen needed to feel the rush of release, needed to feel Hanin fucking him, and he reached between them to run a palm over the elf's tip, sending shudders through Hanin all the way to the ass that squeezed Rahlen tightly.
The rest became a blur, too quickly Rahlen felt heat spurt into his fingers and onto his bare chest. As Hanin sagged forward, Rahlen gripped his hips, thrusting deep and quick, chasing his own orgasm. Burying his face into Hanin's hair, Rahlen grunted, hips twitching up, grinding up into Hanin as he slipped over the edge, filing the elf's ass with his come.
**
The couple was still there, but it was hard for Fenlin to think, let alone worry. Athim was nibbling at the tender skin of her ear, his arms wrapped around her tightly from behind. One hand had slipped the strap covering her breasts to the side, the other played between her legs to ensure she was ready.
"Last chance, Fennec," he said, using the name from when they were young. On her hands and knees, heart thudding and mouth dry, Fenlin shook her head once.
"So you do want me to stop?" he teased, and Fenlin looked at him over her shoulder with a frown. "Or was that a no you don't want me to stop?" Athim asked with a grin. Fen huffed, unable to clarify,but the nudge of Athim's cock between her legs told her that he'd understood.
Cheeks reddened, and Fenlin bit her lip, pressing her hips back onto him. He groaned in pleasant surprise, sliding the hand out from between her legs to stroke gently up along her spine.
Wiggling back until Athim couldn't handle it any longer, Fen gasped as he gripped her shoulder and thrust the rest of the way into her. Her gasps were echoed from the corner, but Athim chased away the shame and concern before they had a chance to settle into Fenlin's mind. He bent over her, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissed along her shoulders and neck.
This was different than the bathhouse had been, less hurried, less... primal. It was tender, and Fenlin wondered if maybe Athim had needed the soft comfort of a friend as much as she had.
The build of heat in her belly was slow, but steady. As it grew, so did the intensity of the kisses and touches of Athim. First nibbles, then bites graced her shoulders, the later complete with low groans of pleasure. His hands, gentle and soft to start now held onto her hips tightly, fingers digging into her flesh to better angle himself into her.
A small hand slipped under her, and Fen whimpered as she started to rub herself, fingers feeling Athim sliding into her from behind. The couple was forgotten now as the need for release eclipsed everything else. Athim pulled her hand away to replace it with his own, his lips and teeth catching her ear.
"C'mon Fennec," he growled. "I want to feel you come around me."
Ears burning, cheeks burning, Fenlin wasn't sure if it was the growl, the words, or a final culmination of everything that tipped her over into a shuddering wave of heat and pleasure. She collapsed forward onto the silk, hips still up in Athim's grip, her silent cries felt but not heard by her partner.
She felt him pull from her, and as she collapsed fully onto the sheets, heat spurted onto the back of her legs. Gasping, eyes closed, she reached for him, pulling his arms around her as he fell to the sheets next to her.
The King spent so much of his time in the practice yard these days. The practice dummies were left battered, burnt. No one offered to spar with him, too fearful to hurt the last Theirin. The last Cousland.
The only one that would take the risk, was no longer allowed near him. The queen was a jealous sort, distrustful of elves after... after the fall of the veil. That the court of Ferelden had an emissary from an elven nation (landless, but still autonomous) rankled. That the King clearly preferred the emmissary's company to the royal queen's, rankled more.
Fenlin watched from the ramparts as a sparrow, hopping in frustration as she watched Rahlen destroy another straw man. It wasn't anger at a specific person, but the world. It hurt to watch, it hurt knowing she'd failed and her failure had cost him everything.
When he left the practice yard, she took wing, wheeling through the air towards the King's personal study. It was his refuge, the one place that he kept the Queen from, and the only safe place for her to speak to him. To try to help soothe the pain that had only been building since the wedding a fortnight ago.
She arrived before he did, landing on the windowsill and hopping along it, looking in through the glass. Maps and documents were spread over the desk, books half read and abandoned were pilled up by the couch which had a pillow and blanket. If she'd been able to, Fenlin would have frowned. How often had he slept here? They had- they'd never fully rekindled what they once had. But, Fenlin still felt ill at the thought of the human woman who now slept beside him. Or, under him.
She shoved the thoughts away viciously. There had never been any future for them. She just had to be here for him now, to be what he needed. Even if it was a straw elf to vent frustrations upon.
The door opened, and Fenlin watched Rahlen walk in, waving away his guards who took their posts outside. He'd washed since the practice, wearing his doublet open and his hair was still damp. He... he still made Fenlin's little sparrow heart race, and she made a note to speak with her mother. To learn how to kill such feelings. Her mother had never spoken about it, but Fen knew more now than she had before.
The Lavellan women were destined to be on the sidelines.
Fen pecked at the glass. Tappa tap tap. She hopped to the side, pecking again and again until Rahlen glanced over. He walked to the window, opening it slightly. Fen hopped through, flitting to perch on the desk. Glancing around, she undid the spell, returning to her normal form in a puff of magic and feathers.
"Rahlen are-" she didn't get a chance to finish the question. He was on her, lips on hers, strong hands worked raw from his practice sessions grabbed her waist and pulled her tight against him. The words died on her lips, swallowed by his before she could catch them back.
Whatever resolutions she'd had to be merely a friend, a confidante were similarly destroyed with that one kiss. Frantic, her hands slipped under his doublet, pulling herself into him. Her lips parted, welcoming the deeper kiss that brought. He was stealing her breath, leaving her gasping as his lips travelled to her neck, teeth catching soft skin just below her ear.
"I need you," he growled, hands already pulling up the skirt of her dress. "If you don't want this- you- you need to tell me, Fen."
She clung to him, shaking her head against his ear. How could she leave? Even if she didn't want his hands sliding up her thighs, which oh, Mythal she did, or his lips on her neck, his growl in her ear, she couldn't leave him. Not alone, not under such pressure.
"I want this," she breathed. "Rahlen, I'm not leaving. I can't."
Fenlin wasn't sure which of her words had been the one to break the king's last bit of restraint, and she didn't care. His rough hands grabbed her under her thighs, lifting her up and holding her against him. Turning, he slammed her back into the rock wall, next to the window.
Fen grunted, burying her face into his neck. She held onto his shoulders, one hand reaching down to help pull her skirts the rest of the way up to her hips, out of his way. She could feel the heat and throb of him nudging her through his trousers, but it was his fingers that found her first. Hooking through the smallclothes and tearing them out of the way.
Fenlin shivered, stifling the moan into his shoulder as he pressed a finger along her, then into her, deeply. She'd had other lovers since they were young, but- but no one made her skin burn like Rahlen did. He bit at her neck to stifle his own groan, to avoid alerting the guards about the Ferelden/Elven diplomacy that was about to happen.
His finger left, and Fenlin had only a moment to mewl in disappointment before he filled her again with one hard, deep thrust. She couldn't stifle her small cry of... of... surprise? Need? pleasure? entirely against him, and he pulled her hands up, pinning them to the rock above them.
There was no room for words any more, all space and breaths filled with hard kisses, biting of skin, the sounds of him thrusting into her, hard and fast and their shared moans that were less and less stifled. He let go of her hands as she got close, his thumb reaching between them to bring her over the edge. His voice, low and rough in her ear, did the rest of the work.
"Mine," he groaned, and Fen could only nod as the heat burst inside her, turning fingers and lips numb. She clung to him, whimpering and panting, feeling him tense and empty himself into her. Hazily, she realised they hadn't- the-
"Mine," he murmured again, this time softly, his arms sliding around her tenderly and pulling her against him, away from the wall. "All I've got left."
Fenlin wasn't sure he realised he'd said that, but she nodded, swallowing hard.
"I'm yours Rahlen, whatever you need me to be. I can't leave, I can't leave you."
She caught his lips in a kiss, tender and slow, and tried to shut away the ache in her chest. Her heart was his, she knew. There was no going back now, no pretending she could ever kill the love she felt.
"I need you," he murmured. Fenlin nodded, brushing a hand over his cheek.
"I'll always be here." She promised. Come Queen, or evanuris, she would be there for him. Always.
Noonday sun beat down upon Qarinus and it’s inhabitants, harsher than any slaver’s whip. The world stopped at midday, citizens and slaves alike seeking shade or shelter. Only those lowest in Qarinus’s social strata were given no reprieve from the heat.
Athim lay in the shade of a tree, planted at the edge of the practice yard. The other gladiators had retreated into the barracks, but here, under the tree, there was a small breeze that made the air bearable. On his back in a patch of grass, Athim watched heatshimmers dance over the sand of the practice ground, almost bright enough to fool an elf into believing there was water on the sand instead of just searing air.
The heat did strange things to people, Athim thought to himself. The other day one of the green recruits had gone sun-mad, certain that a volumptuous woman was waiting for him just beyond the wrought iron walls. The trainers beat him into submission, but not before the man had professed his love for... Philomena, whoever that was.
Letting his eyes droop, Athim thought about what he might see if the sun addled his brain. Would it be the soft curves of the human back in Rivain that he’d spent a few days locked away with? All dark skin and flashing white teeth with a loud laugh. Or would it be a tall and muscled man, eyes bright and grin devastatingly cocksure. Maybe it would be a lean elf, tanned skin arching under his touch, sharp teeth biting onto their hand as he drew them toward the edge.
Athim bit his lip, feeling his body respond to the thoughts. Glancing around, he adjusted his position, leaning onto his side, back to the barracks. In front of him was only a brick wall, and a few other trees. Everyone would be asleep for a while longer...
Closing his eyes, Athim slid a hand down his bare belly, feeling the twitch of his muscles as he anticipated what was going to happen. His hand, rough and callused from hard training, brushed over the growing bulge, first running over the thin linen of his pants, then squeezing himself with a soft groan.
An elf, neck slender and arched back, her breath shuddering against his ear as he dragged his fingers down her back. His lips would be on her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat, breathing in the smell of her hair as his fingers tore off what little clothing she would have had on. He’d push her down into the grass next to him, pinning her there so he could take his time. A nip at the muscle that tied shoulder to throat would cause her to gasp and grab his shoulders.
Athim groaned quietly, sliding his hand under the waistband of his pants to take his cock in hand. Already hard, he wasn’t sure if it was the heat or how long it had been since he’d had a moment to himself. It didn’t matter.
The elf would draw her legs around his hips, a hand curling into his hair, cut so short now, and push him down to her breasts. Dark little nipples, pert and pointing to the sky, begging for his lips. She’d smell like sweat and perfume, sand and sex, and taste even better as she squirmed under him, hips rolling to press herself against his cock.
‘Please’, she would beg, breathy and quiet in his ear in case someone heard them. ‘Please, Athim, please fu-’ and she’d swear as his fingers dipped into her, so hot and wet, an oasis on a Tevinter afternoon. She’d lose her words, arching and stifling her moans with a palm until he pulled her over the edge with curling, eager strokes of his fingers.
Athim rolled further onto his side, an elbow propping him up and a knee keeping him from falling onto his front as his breathing got rough, his hand moving faster on himself. He shuddered and had to suck in a breath as the tip of his cock brushed the cool grass.
She’d be barely back from the climax as he would sink into her, slow, deep at first. Savouring the feeling of her wrapped around him. He’d bury his face into her neck, biting and muffling his own sounds as he began to pick up the pace. They’d be both sheened in sweat, pressed together until he rolled her over onto her front and lifted her hips. A hand would tangle in her hair, pulling it back so he could watch the wanton gasps pull from her lips with each hard thrust into her.
“Ngh,” Athim moaned, feeling himself getting close.
He’d slide a hand down around her hips to stroke her button, hurrying her to the dizzying hieght of another climax, her puss squeezing him, milking him dry as he spurted-
“Fenehdiss,” he grunted, stroking out the first pulse of come. He slowed his hand, teasing out each following thrust’s come out onto the grass, gasping the name without realising.
Sinking down onto his side, he wiped himself gingerly on the grass before tucking his cock back into his pants. Heart thundering from the climax and heat, he rolled onto his back, closing his eyes and letting his breaths slow to normal. Sleep took him then, deep and dreamless.
He woke an hour later as the bell rang to summon the gladiators back to training.
“New recruits,” shouted the trainer, “Eat, water, and line up for their arrival.”
Athim rubbed his eyes, pushing himself to his feet. He kicked a bit of sand over his... er... evidence before walking over to the barracks for water and bread.
“That sounds like quite an interesting book,” Rahlen said with a laugh. “Would you be the one writing it then?” Fenlin watching Hanin with wide eyes, trying not to think about how warm Rahlen’s lips had been on her neck, or wondering if Hanin’s would taste different.
“You know,” Rahlen said into Fenlin’s ear, running a finger up along her spine. She shivered and struggled to listen. “When we were younger, Janine and I met at Skyhold. It was one of those horribly boring parties that were more about politics than any kind of fun.”
Fenlin didn’t know what those kind of parties were like, but she did know she was leaning into Rahlen’s touch now, letting his arm curl around her waist and splay his fingers over her belly.
“You did?” She asked, looking up at Rahlen, hoping he’d keep talking.
Rahlen smiled, brushing fingers along her jaw. Fenlin just about melted at that, her hand resting on his arm, the other shyly creeping up to tangle into her hair.
“We did,” Hanin said, much closer than Fenlin expected him to be. She glanced over her shoulder to see him sitting behind her, one hand stretching out along the rubs rim to brush along Rahlen’s neck. So close, Fen could hear the prince’s breath catch, and felt his hand on her tighten, pulling her closer.
“We snuck out to a porch,” Rahlen said, tilting her chin up. “And he kissed me, like this:” his lips closed the distance, pressing hot against hers. Fen melted into it, pressing herself against Rahlen, shy fingers reaching back to catch Hanin’s wrist that waited in the water. He followed, and Fenlin felt herself lifted up onto someone’s lap, or… more. There were more than four legs tangled under them, and four strong arms pulled the three of them tight together, Fenlin pressed between Prince and heir inquisitor, one hand curled up into Rahlen’s hair and the other sliding back along hanin’s forearm to the crook of his elbow.
“Like That,” Rahlen said, pulling back from her lips. He smiled past her, and the small elf watched him press past her, his lips catching Hanin’s. They might not have noticed the rumble in Rahlen’ s chest, or the low groan in Hanin’s throat, but Fenlin'crushed between the men, heard both. Soon her own silent gasp joined them, Hanin’s hand that wasn’t pulling Rahlen close, slipped up to cup her breast. His hips rolled against her rear, still covered in the thin knit of her leggings.
Fen pressed her face into the hollow of Rahlen’s throat, feeling the prince’s hand slide low on her belly. She could stop now, she knew, if she wanted to.
But Fenlin didn’t want to stop.
Shy at first, she nibbled along Rahlen’s throat, her hands, small and rough in comparison to those of the men, slipped down, one in front and one behind.
They gasped in unison above her, as she curled fingers around each of them. Rahlen felt hard already, hot and thick against her palm. Hanin wasn’t far behind. Different, not as thick maybe, but her exploring fingers felt thrumming veins along the length of him that weren’t there on Rahlen.
“Fen,” Rahlen groaned, sliding his hand low until his fingers dipped under the waistband of her leggings. “Are you-” she was sure. She told him by running her palm over the very tip of the Prince, leaving him lifting into her hand and gasping.
“We should,” hanin gasped, twitching in Fenlin’s hand. “There’s towels, by the fire.”
With a silent squeak, Fen felt strong arms scoop her up. All of a sudden, she was staring down at Hanin’s bare ass. She pressed one hand against It, squeezing to lever herself up and try to see what was going on. Rahlen was behind her, hands sliding up her legs , thumbs running along her inner thighs. The men were kissing hungrily again, and Fen shuddered as Rahlen’s hands slipped up to brush against her, between her legs.
She bit into Hanin’s back to stifle an inaudible moan. Her leggings were stripped away, tossed aside with a wet splat …somewhere. She didn’t care where.
“Towels,” Rahlen agreed, hand slipping back along her slit, this time bare to his touch. Fenlin moaned silently into Hanin’s well muscled back.
She wasn’t sure how they ended up by the fire. She was on her back on a towel, Hanin’s lips on her neck while Rahlen claimed her mouth. She was on fire, hands fluttering between cupping their faces and trailing down to run along the hard flesh nudging into her thighs and hips.
“Fuck,” moaned Rahlen, and Fenlin realised her hand wasn’t the only one stroking him. Glancing to Hanin, she saw the other elf from and wink at her before hungrily stealing her lips from Rahlen.
The moan she let out into his mouth was silent, but no less hungry for it. Rahlen’s fingers slid up along her, thumb rubbing along the bit of flesh that sent her squirming and breathless up into Hanin’s mouth. The reaction only encouraged him, his fingers slipping down into her, drawing feathery touches along her inner walls.
Fen mewled silently into Hanin’s mouth, fingers clutching at the elf’s broad shoulder, and the prince’s hair as Raen moved lower.
Hanin shuddered and groaned, the twitch of his hips and Rahlen’s cheek resting against Fenlin’s thigh telling her that Rahlen planned to ruin both of them before he would take his own pleasure.
“Fuck,” Hanin gasped, nudging Fen’s jaw to the side, lips and teeth finding her neck to hold onto. He bit down as Rahlen ran his tongue along the heir’s shaft. But it didn’t last long, and as Hanin grunted and Fen bit her lip in disappointment, Rahlen pulled back.
“Fen would you let me?” He asked, dipping his finger inside her.
She nodded, a bit desperately. The Prince grinned and nudged her hip, rolling her onto her hands and knees.
“Hanin,” Rahlen murmured, running fingertips down Fenlin’s spine. “What would you prefer?”
The heir looked the two others over before layingbonnhia back, cock flopping wet against his belly. “I want you to lick while you fuck,” he said, tucking his hands behind his head.
Fenlin swallows hard, moving a little closer to the other elf. But the feeling of a thick heat nudging at her between her legs was more.than enough to distract her. Head dipping, she panted as the Prince pressed the tip of himself into her. Hot staccato breaths hit Hanin’s cock as Fenlin slowly took in Rahlen. There was the slightest of resistances at first, but she wanted this, needed it, so much that she was hot and slick for him.
“Fen,” chid3d Raen into her ear. “You’re ignoring Hanin.” She swallowed hard, looking up at the other let’s face, just in time for him to see the expression. Of pleasure and slight roll back of her eyes as Rahlen pressed all the way into her.
Something hot and salty nudged her lips, Fen, barely able to think, lapped at it on impulse. Running her tongue up along the being underside to taste the salted tip, already glistening with precum.
“Good girl,” coped Rahlen, and Fen felt his hips drawing back, pilulling with them the thickness that had pushed deep inside her. Odd at first, but the feeling of emptiness his cock left behind was unbearable. Fen wiggled her hips back into Rahlen’s, savoring the groan he stifled against her neck.
“Fuck,” Hanin breathed, and Fenlin easntbsure if it was a command or an observation. Rahlen took it as the former, slamming his hips back against her, filling the little witch all at once and leaving her gasping, Hanin"s red tip s2aying mere millimeters from her lips.
Dipping his head down next to hers, Rahlen nipped at the sensitive skin along the crease of Hanin’s inner hip. Fenlin gulped down a mouthful of the hard cock, tongue running along the elf’s slit on his head to taste that salty precursor once more
Someone’s hand slipped between Fenlin and the ground, catching and teasing the big of flesh that made her unable to keep still. She bucked under Rahlen, moaning silently around the mouthful of elf as she bounced with every hard royal thrust.
Heat and pressure had started to build in her beĺly, leaving her more and more needy, hips meeting Rahlen’s and a.spare hand joining her mouths efforts on Hanin.
But it was.as Rahlen bit the back of her neck, breath catching and hips stuttering d3ep into her, that Fenlin pulled back to shudder and gasp silently around Hanin, pressing her face into the skin where thigh met hip, moaned and meals silenced but palpable against sensitive skin.
Hanin’s breath caught, and weather it was the expression of reach on Rahlen’s face, or the whimpered and silent groans around him from Fenlin, his hips bucked up, hard. Hot salt spurred up into Fen’s mouth, first once, then twice, then, as Hanin pulled back, against her throat and chest, marking her kin the way Rahlen had just marked her insides.
Panting, she collapsed onto Hanin’s belly, his still thickened cock by her lips. Rahlen leaned down, licking the come from Hanin at first, then pressing hianlips against Fenlin’s, kissing her deeply. She swore she felt him twitch deep within her, though she needed to breathe before she was ready to begin again.
“My turn….” Hanin gasped. Whether he meant to fuck or be fucked, Fenlin wasn’t sure. “In… a minute,” the heir added. “Bloody hell.”
Flashing lights blinded Milliara as she left the Winter Palace gardens and she ducked her head down, shielding her eyes so she could see the steps down to the curb where the Inquisition’s hired car waited. She climbed into the open door, eager for the quiet refuge from shouted questions and blinding lights. Solas was in after her, closing the door behind them and locking it behind him.
“Locks,” she breathed, lips tugging into a smile.
“We’ve already been interrupted twice,” Solas said, slipping in next to Milliara. “So I would rather not risk a third.” His warm fingers caught her chin, guiding her lips up to his. The kiss started off gentle, tender in how it lingered and explored now that they had time. He tasted like cake and sparkling wine and magic, and the combination made Millie’s lips tingle as they parted against his. She wanted to taste more of him. The gentle kiss wasn’t enough, not after the night they’d had full of bloodshed and anxiety and worse.
Milliara pushed him back against the seat of the car and climbed onto his lap, pulling the fine beaded gown to the side so she wouldn’t kneel on it as she straddled his thighs. Solas’s half-chuckle half groan tasted better on her tongue than all the fancy hor doeuvres she’d eaten at the palace. There was something primal about it, a tension hiding under his placid demeanour… and Milliara meant to draw it out to the open.
If the car had started moving, she didn’t notice as Solas’s gloved hands slipped up her thighs to her hips. Strong fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, pulling her tighter against him and the heat radiating from his lap.
She shouldn’t do this, a small voice was whispering. She should stop now.
Milliara told it to fuck off. She’d devoted so much of herself to being the Inquisitor, to being a mother. More than want, she //needed/ this moment of rebellion and passion to remind her that she was a person under all those titles. A living, breathing, bleeding person.
“Should we wait?” Solas was murmuring, his lips broken from hers, but not her skin as they worked their searing way along her jaw to her neck.
“No,” Milliara breathed, hips grinding against his and the swelling heat she could feel under her. “I need you. I need this. Please, Solas.”
The affirmation was all Solas needed. one hand on his hips slid up to grab a handful of Milliara’s hair, tugging her head back to give him better access to her neck. The other slipped down, and under the beaded fabric to find skin. The heat of his touch bled through the thin leather gloves he wore, burning a trail up her thigh to the crease of sensitive skin at her hip. The brush of his thumb along her underwear sent shivers through Milliara, and she bit her lip to stifle the mewl in her throat.
“Don’t,” Solas growled into her ear, teeth catching at her earlobe and tugging. “I want to hear you.” The hand in her hair let go, trailing down her spine to rest at the small of Milliara’s back, holding her tight against him.
Freed, Milliara grabbed a handful of Solas’s lapel with one hand while the other slipped down between them. The shiver she felt ripple through him and it’s accompanying groan brought a smile to Millie’s lips. Leaning in, she ran the tip of her nose up the skin of his neck, trailing light kisses and nips of teeth up to his ear.
Under her hand, he was hard as a rock now, and she could swear she felt his pulse thrumming in her palm. Or, maybe that was the anchor reacting to her own frantic heartbeat? She wasn’t sure, and didn’t have time to think about it. Solas had done something with his fingers that caught her breath against her teeth and teased out the needy moan as they stroked over her puss with the faintest tingle of magic.
Now. She needed it now, or he was going to have her a gasping, sopping mess before he even touched her skin to skin. Solas though, caught her too-eager hand with his, holding it gently and guiding her palm to his lips to kiss gently as he stroked her.
“Let me spoil you,” he murmured against the pulse of the anchor in her hand. He was watching her with that small smile, the one that started at his eyes as they crinkled and then spread to his lips… lips that had gently taken the skin between her thumb and forefinger into his mouth. The feeling of his tongue trailing over her skin and the look in his eyes told Milliara that once they reached the hotel it wouldn’t be her hand that he planned on kissing.
His hand pulled away from her and Milliara couldn’t help the small whine that slipped out of her throat. But before she could complain, demand that he go back to what he was doing, his hand was at her lips.
“The glove,” he murmured, resuming the gentle kisses to her palm and wrist. “Would you help?”
Oh. Oooh. Parting her lips, Milliara watched Solas’s face through her eyelashes as she bit the leather of his index fingertip and tugged gently, loosening it from his hand. She repeated delicately along each of his other fingers before returning to the middle and pulling the glove off his hand entirely.
His smile was breathless now, eyes dark. Trailing his fingers down her breastbone, lower… lower…
Milliara’s eyes fluttered closed and the glove fell from between her teeth to their laps. His fingers were hot, leaving electric trails as they slipped along her inner thigh and- and-
His mouth caught hers, and this kiss was not tender. It was hungry and hard, and she met it in kind, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her hips up against his hand. He swallowed her moan as he nudged aside the damp fabric of her underwear to run his thumb along her to find that button of pleasure. She could feel the grin of his lips as her hips bucked into his hand when he did.
There was no moment to breathe now, his thumb rubbing and teasing her button and his finger pressing into her, curling against her before easing in a second finger and stealing away all rational thought.
He gave her no room to breathe, no time to think, and it was exactly what she wanted, needed right now. Mewling, feeling the heat coil and tighten in her belly, Milliara placed her hand against his chest, the anchor pulsing with her heartbeat, and she swore his was in time with hers. Somehow she just knew.
“Fuck,” she mumbled against his lips, her own starting to prickle with numbness as the climax loomed. “Solas-” She broke the kiss, burying her face into his neck to muffle the breathy moans that he coaxed out of her with ever curl of his fingers.
He murmured something elven in her ear. Sweet nothings or coaxing, she wasn’t sure as the tension in her body caught and twisted up before exploding out in pins and needles along her fingers, toes, numbed lips and panted breaths against his neck as her body released the stress from the night in one shuddering climax. He guided her through it, fingers and thumb slowing their rhythm to draw out the feeling until she was limp and clinging to him.
“Vhenan,” he murmured in her ear. “We’ve arrived, when you’re ready.” He kissed her ear, and then nipped at it with sharp teeth. “I would advise you to cancel any plans tomorrow. I don’t plan on letting you sleep tonight.”
Flashing lights blinded Milliara as she left the Winter Palace gardens and she ducked her head down, shielding her eyes so she could see the steps down to the curb where the Inquisition's hired car waited. She climbed into the open door, eager for the quiet refuge from shouted questions and blinding lights. Solas was in after her, closing the door behind them and locking it behind him.
"Locks," she breathed, lips tugging into a smile.
"We've already been interrupted twice," Solas said, slipping in next to Milliara. "So I would rather not risk a third." His warm fingers caught her chin, guiding her lips up to his. The kiss started off gentle, tender in how it lingered and explored now that they had time. He tasted like cake and sparkling wine and magic, and the combination made Millie's lips tingle as they parted against his. She wanted to taste more of him. The gentle kiss wasn't enough, not after the night they'd had full of bloodshed and anxiety and worse.
Milliara pushed him back against the seat of the car and climbed onto his lap, pulling the fine beaded gown to the side so she wouldn't kneel on it as she straddled his thighs. Solas's half-chuckle half groan tasted better on her tongue than all the fancy hor doeuvres she'd eaten at the palace. There was something primal about it, a tension hiding under his placid demeanour... and Milliara meant to draw it out to the open.
If the car had started moving, she didn't notice as Solas's gloved hands slipped up her thighs to her hips. Strong fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, pulling her tighter against him and the heat radiating from his lap.
She shouldn't do this, a small voice was whispering. She should stop now.
Milliara told it to fuck off. She'd devoted so much of herself to being the Inquisitor, to being a mother. More than want, she //needed/ this moment of rebellion and passion to remind her that she was a person under all those titles. A living, breathing, bleeding person.
"Should we wait?" Solas was murmuring, his lips broken from hers, but not her skin as they worked their searing way along her jaw to her neck.
"No," Milliara breathed, hips grinding against his and the swelling heat she could feel under her. "I need you. I need this. Please, Solas."
The affirmation was all Solas needed. one hand on his hips slid up to grab a handful of Milliara's hair, tugging her head back to give him better access to her neck. The other slipped down, and under the beaded fabric to find skin. The heat of his touch bled through the thin leather gloves he wore, burning a trail up her thigh to the crease of sensitive skin at her hip. The brush of his thumb along her underwear sent shivers through Milliara, and she bit her lip to stifle the mewl in her throat.
"Don't," Solas growled into her ear, teeth catching at her earlobe and tugging. "I want to hear you." The hand in her hair let go, trailing down her spine to rest at the small of Milliara's back, holding her tight against him.
Freed, Milliara grabbed a handful of Solas's lapel with one hand while the other slipped down between them. The shiver she felt ripple through him and it's accompanying groan brought a smile to Millie's lips. Leaning in, she ran the tip of her nose up the skin of his neck, trailing light kisses and nips of teeth up to his ear.
Under her hand, he was hard as a rock now, and she could swear she felt his pulse thrumming in her palm. Or, maybe that was the anchor reacting to her own frantic heartbeat? She wasn't sure, and didn't have time to think about it. Solas had done something with his fingers that caught her breath against her teeth and teased out the needy moan as they stroked over her puss with the faintest tingle of magic.
Now. She needed it now, or he was going to have her a gasping, sopping mess before he even touched her skin to skin. Solas though, caught her too-eager hand with his, holding it gently and guiding her palm to his lips to kiss gently as he stroked her.
"Let me spoil you," he murmured against the pulse of the anchor in her hand. He was watching her with that small smile, the one that started at his eyes as they crinkled and then spread to his lips... lips that had gently taken the skin between her thumb and forefinger into his mouth. The feeling of his tongue trailing over her skin and the look in his eyes told Milliara that once they reached the hotel it wouldn't be her hand that he planned on kissing.
His hand pulled away from her and Milliara couldn't help the small whine that slipped out of her throat. But before she could complain, demand that he go back to what he was doing, his hand was at her lips.
"The glove," he murmured, resuming the gentle kisses to her palm and wrist. "Would you help?"
Oh. Oooh. Parting her lips, Milliara watched Solas's face through her eyelashes as she bit the leather of his index fingertip and tugged gently, loosening it from his hand. She repeated delicately along each of his other fingers before returning to the middle and pulling the glove off his hand entirely.
His smile was breathless now, eyes dark. Trailing his fingers down her breastbone, lower... lower...
Milliara's eyes fluttered closed and the glove fell from between her teeth to their laps. His fingers were hot, leaving electric trails as they slipped along her inner thigh and- and-
His mouth caught hers, and this kiss was not tender. It was hungry and hard, and she met it in kind, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her hips up against his hand. He swallowed her moan as he nudged aside the damp fabric of her underwear to run his thumb along her to find that button of pleasure. She could feel the grin of his lips as her hips bucked into his hand when he did.
There was no moment to breathe now, his thumb rubbing and teasing her button and his finger pressing into her, curling against her before easing in a second finger and stealing away all rational thought.
He gave her no room to breathe, no time to think, and it was exactly what she wanted, needed right now. Mewling, feeling the heat coil and tighten in her belly, Milliara placed her hand against his chest, the anchor pulsing with her heartbeat, and she swore his was in time with hers. Somehow she just knew.
"Fuck," she mumbled against his lips, her own starting to prickle with numbness as the climax loomed. "Solas-" She broke the kiss, burying her face into his neck to muffle the breathy moans that he coaxed out of her with ever curl of his fingers.
He murmured something elven in her ear. Sweet nothings or coaxing, she wasn't sure as the tension in her body caught and twisted up before exploding out in pins and needles along her fingers, toes, numbed lips and panted breaths against his neck as her body released the stress from the night in one shuddering climax. He guided her through it, fingers and thumb slowing their rhythm to draw out the feeling until she was limp and clinging to him.
"Vhenan," he murmured in her ear. "We've arrived, when you're ready." He kissed her ear, and then nipped at it with sharp teeth. "I would advise you to cancel any plans tomorrow. I don't plan on letting you sleep tonight."
It was a current felt intensely throughout all of dinner as they talked about competitions and the season that was to come. Fenlin could taste it on the back of her tongue, and it flavoured the words in her mouth. Instead of asking hard questions she smiled, talked about easy topics like dogs and routine elements instead of asking what they were, really.
Maybe she was scared of the answer, or maybe she was scared of losing what little time she had left of whatever illusion existed that let her monopolize his time. Potato was with the breeder for the evening, giving Fenlin and Rahlen time to be... friends.
They made it out to the car, parked in the back of the restaurant before they kissed. Fenlin wasn't sure who initiated it, only that she was pulling him against her, leaning back against the drivers side door with keys in one hand and a handful of his coat in the other.
"What time do I need to have you at the airport?" she asked, looking up at him through hazy eyes. Creators, the things he made her feel, it was as though all sense went out the mental window, leaving only stupid awkwardness and base instinct.
How he hadn't cut all contact off completely was a mystery.
"Ten, but with the drive we'll have to leave at around seven,"he said, lips barely free from hers. They were hot and sweet, still tasting of the desert from their dinner. She wanted to catch them and suck his lps clean of that taste, until the only thing he tasted like was heat and himself.
"So early," she said, making a face.
"Well," Rahlen said, hand on her hip. "Still later than your practices this weekend. And, at least the drive to Redcliffe will be enjoyable." his lips caught hers again, and Fenlin couldn't help the small groan that slipped out against his mouth.
Quiet as it was, the sound changed the atmosphere between them. Rahlen's hips pressed forward, pinning her against the car while his hand slipped up along her side and under her coat's open lapel to find her breast. Even though he only brushed the back of his fingers over it, before slipping his hand around to her back and pulling her tighter against him, Feli felt the deep huder of want ripple through her.
"Fuck," she mumbled against his lips. "I'll have to set an alarm, but I dont know if you'll get to sleep much."
He grinned, lips a hairsbreath from hers.
"Good."
She pushed him back, sucking down cold winter air. Then pointed at the passenger side of the car.
"Be good until we get back." Rahlen smirked, and Fenlin was sure that the warmth in her knees would leave her unable to stay standing. But, by some miracle she pulled through, unlocking her driverside door and climbing in.
"So," Rahlen said, buckling in next to her.
"Fen, since you don't need to compete tomorrow, can I say something?"
She glanced at him, already biting the inside o her cheek. "Sure?" she said, putting the key into the ignition and coaxing her old car to life.
"I'm going to miss your little cabin," Rahlen said, resting his hand on her knee, and sliding it up her thigh incrementally. "It's so nice and quiet and just, cozy."
Fenlin swallowed, hard. She looked at him, considering his comments. Did he mean it or was he just being nice? It was so hard to tell, and With Rahlen it might just be ass simple as a direct translation from his words.
"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I'm going to miss it when I travel for the next competition."
Who knew when the next time would be that she saw him? And even if she did, when she did, who was to say that it would be free for her to be with him like this? Rahlen would move on soon enough she was sure. There were prettier girls, human girls, girls with good families and better looks who would catch his eye. If she could pretend for tonight that he actually cared about her like she cared about him. It was stupid to think anything otherwise, but tonight she'd just won her first competition. She'd let herself pretend.
She put the car into gear and pulled out onto the main road, noticing that thick white flakes had started to fall from the sky.
"When's your next competition?" she asked, to pass the quiet of the drive. "Soon, right?"
"Mhm," Rahlen said, hand still on her leg. She could feel his body heat burning through her leggings to warm her skin below.
"The Ferelden Classic in a few weeks. But It's going to be weird without you there."
Fen snorted.
"You didn't even know me two years ago, was it weird then?" she asked.
"Sort of, I still knew you were there. It's different you were part of the Ferelden cup, and now you're not," he said quietly, looking at her. She couldn't read his expression from her peripheral vision, but she could tell he was looking at her. "You know, if you have the time you could come cheer me on, yeah?" he added.
"You'd want me to?" she asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "like, actually? Potato and all?"
He laughed, but like usual it was with her, not at her. A distinction she'd never previously understood as possible outside of family.
"I still cant believe you named him potato, but yeah. I mean, if you have the time. Pavus seems to be a bit of a hardass but he's been good for you. Skyhold's been good for you," Rahlen added, giving her leg a small squeeze.
"You helped, you know," she said, resting her hand over his as they drove down the straight-ish main road, her cabin still a ways out. "If it wasn't for the gala or you showing me that I was stuck in a mindset that didn't fit me, I'd probably still be trying to wear pink ruffles and be skating to orchestral arrangements." Fenlin didn't bother to hide the face she made at the thought of that. And she caught his smile from the corner of her eye.
"Fenlin Lavellan, was that a compliment?" He asked with a mock gasp.
"Yes, even if you can be a bit full of yourself and get me in trouble with the media," she added, sticking her tongue out at him.
"Hey now," he said. "don't go flaunting that unless you plan on putting it to good use."
And just like that, her ears were aflame, cheeks equally as warm, while his hand slipped up closer to the crook of her hip and pelvis,fingers massaging tires muscles as she drove. At least, soon, they'd come upon the cabin and she could park the car and look at him. Smile at him. Gods, she was in trouble.
"I don't understand why you're so shy," Rahlen said quietly. "I mean, I get that it's anxiety, but you're so much better than you think you are, Fen. At skating and at social life, everything."
"I don't know," she said, turning on her signal as she spotted the turn off. "I'm not like your parents,or like Leliana Nightingale. I'm just, an awkward dork elf who likes weird music."
"And who won the Skyhold cup," Rahlen pointed out. Slowing the car, she risked a glance at him, cheeks flushing full of heat before she focused on parking in the small lane by the cabin. Turning the car off, Fen double-checked that it was in park, before she looked back at Rahlen, biting her lip.
"I'm still a weird elf though," she said, and hated the way his eyes made her heart thud She hated the way that softness in his expression made her turn to warm goo and she just wanted to curl up in his arms, and she hated the way she leaned in to kiss him, needing the contact well before he did. Needing him and his touch more than he'd ever need hers. She was in the worst kind of trouble.
At least, even if it was just tonight, she could pretend that it was even, equal to her own desires, as he pulled back and tilted his head towards the cabin door. Fen nodded, and climbed out, grabbing her purse from the back and locking the car behind her.
His mouth and his hands were on her as soon as they reached her front door. she didn't reach to put the keys in the door, she didn't try to pull away or get shy. Fenlin just wanted to bask in the hot kiss of his lips on hers, the way his hands felt on her hips and the warmth of him pressed against her.
"The Door," he mumbled against her lips, taking the keys from her hand and unlocking the cabin for her. An arm slipped around her waist to prevent her from falling inwards as he opened the door to let them in, and walked Fenlin backwards into the cabin and closed the door behind them.
Coats and boots were tossed aside as Rahlen walked her backwards toward the bed, his hands and lips insisting on finding warmth, even though layers of fabric or a curtain of hair. His hand slipped up under her shirt to find her breast, gently squeezing at first before he nudged a finger and thumb under her cup to find sensitive skin.
"Gods," she mumbled against his lips, arching as he caught and rolled her nipple. His other hand was firmly holding onto her hips, pulling her against the heat of his own.
"Hmm?" Rahlen asked, pretending he had't heard her soft murmur of pleasure. He nudged her back to lay down on the bed and crawled over her, trailing kisses down to her breastbone. Tugging her shirt up, Rahlen bent his head to let his lips continue their slow path down along her belly, each sending a shiver through her, and she shivered, biting her lip as she felt his tongue trail a lazy line up towards her breasts.
He pulled the shirt and bra away, and Fenlin shifted to help toss them aside, cheeks still flushed with lingering shyness, but eyes darkening with desire for what was coming. As Fen felt his mouth close round the nipple of her right breast, she gasped, slipping her fingers into his hair, the other hand grabbing the meat of his shoulder as her body arched helplessly under his mouth. Soft and warm, his lips and tongue had her tipping her head back and murmuring bare nothings.
She wanted to tell him not to go, that he could stay another day, but... he had his own life, own competitions. She could enjoy tonight, then tomorrow, she'd let him go. As she'd known she'd have to all along. Even breathless and high on her first Senior win, Fenlin wasn't about to pretend that he'd drop everything to stay, with a 'friend'.
The light brush of his fingers sliding down between her legs left Fenlin squirming and gasping against his touch, lifting her hips against his hand for more. Rahlen chuckled against her skin, trailing light kisses across to her left beast, and taking it into his mouth. Just like the other, he nipped and tugged, blue eyes flicking up to watch her expression. With thought rapidly slipping away, Fenlin held onto him, a hand in his hair, the other's nails digging into his shoulder. His fingertips slipped under her skirt to find the sensitive skin along the inside of her thighs, and it was his lazy creep of fingertips up to the crease of her hip that left her breath stuttered.
"Rahlen," she breathed, biting her lip as he brushed a single finger up along her, even though thin cotton she felt the heat of his skin, and it was enough to leave her shivering and lifting her hips for more. "Please."
"Whatever you want," he whispered, kissing up along her neck, fingers nudging aside the thin fabric to brush over the heat between her legs. Fenlin's breath caught, and she arched, welcoming his fingers as they rubbed along her, and then --breathless-- as he slowly pressed a digit into her, curling up against her inner wall.
"Gods," she mumbled, lips soon caught by his, hot and heady, his kiss nearly distracting her from the slow but steady curl of his finger. And when she couldn't continue the kiss, his coaxing of her breath into raggedness, he kissed along her jaw to just below her ear.
"I want to hear you howl tonight," he murmured into her ear, teeth catching the soft skin of her earlobe. "I want to hear you gasp and shiver and squeeze around me as you come. Just tell me how, Fenlin," he breathed, and she moaned as he pressed a second finger into her, curling up against her front while his palm rubbed over her button.
"Will you do that for me?" he asked, nipping at her again.
Fenlin bit her lip, nodding. Already her breath had started to hitch, catching as he curled his fingers against her just -- gods -- just right. "Yes," she moaned. It was a near herculean effort, but she twisted, guiding him to keep his arm around her, his hand right where it was. But sh wanted him behind her, the heat of his cock resting up against her back. Though, she wanted...
"Like this?" he asked, nuzzling along her shoulder.
She nodded, breathless. She felt his grin against her neck, and his hands pulled away from their work to slide the cotton of her underwear down, and push the knitted fabric of her skirt up.
Then... nothing.
"Rah-" she managed, looking over her shoulder before she felt his mouth press against her, warm lips and tongue tasting her, suckling on her clit as his nose nudged against her folds. Fenlin felt her cheeks and ears go scarlet, and she whimpered the rest of his name into the blankets under her, trembling as his fingers spread her open to let his tongue delve deep into her.
Fenlin hadn't planned on this, she hadn't- what if... what... his thumb was gently rolling against her clit now, and she melted into a trembling mess, pressing back into his mouth and his hand, desperate whimpers catching in her throat and stumbling over one another there. It was a subtle build, from pleasure into starbursts. First a tingle along her lips, a numbing along her fingertips, and then it crashed over her, rippling warmth along her body and against his mouth his hand with murmured whimpers slipping out of her throat.
Sinking her cheek into the blankets, Fenlin gasped, shivers of aftershock skittering through her nerves. But he wasn't done. Pulling back, Rahlen traced kisses up along her spine, pushing aside her shirt, his hands and lips seeking out warm skin.
"The sounds you make Fen," he murmured, helping pull away her shirt and bra, tossing them away into the darkness of the cabin. He didn't need to continue, she could feel the result of her sounds nudging against her, hot and hard and entirely too much outside of her.
"Rahlen," she mumbled through tingling lips, pressing her hips back to sink onto him, that first precious inch of pleasure sending a shudder through her entire being.
"Fuck," he gasped, breath hot on the skin of her back, lips and mouth at the sensitive skin just behind her ear. One of his hands was braced against the bed, just above her shoulder, but the other gripped her hip, fingertips curling into her flesh to hold on, to pull her back further onto him, slow and steady until he was buried deep into her.
She half-remembered feeling an ache the first few times, before he'd learned to coax her to being ready, to being slick and hot enough to take him. And now, now that she felt his heat nudging deep inside her, Fenlin never wanted to let him free.
He caught her lips, leaning further over her and pressing in just that much further. the hand on her hip slipped down, finding where he was buried into her, and slowly running lightly along her lips, up and over her clit. He sucked down her moans with hungry lips, hips pulling back slowly before sinking back into her to taste the difference in pitch of the sounds she made.
The slow pace couldn't last. Not when she wanted him so badly and he was so hungry for her. His hand was in her hair, pulling her back and up so her back was to his chest, a hand cupping the nape of his neck. His mouth was on her neck, hand pulling her hips against his in a quickening pace. The sound of skin on skin filled the cabin, and the hand in her hair let go, slipping down to cup her breast, squeezing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Gods," she moaned, cut off with gasps each time he thrust into her, the hot tip nudging against the front of her inner walls. It was... she couldn't... thinking was difficult around him at the best of times, but he was truly driving her towards mindless instinct.
On his knees, he pulled her down with both hands on her hips, burying himself into her fully and holding her there, squirming against him. She couldn't help it, her own hands finding her breast and her clit, squeezing and rubbing frantically as she squirmed on his cock.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured, nipping at her shoulder. "Fen, just tell me."
Swallowing hard, her cheeks already hot from desire, she did. The change was immediate, and stole her breath as he pushed her forward, cheek to the blankets under them. His fingers were demanding, finding her clit and flicking over it relentlessly, his other arm propping him up over her.
But it was the way he bit the nape of her neck, the low growl in his throat that tipped her over into mindless instinct. Breath hot on her skin, teeth holding her firmly in place, he carried her to starbursts and numb lips, her fingers helplessly grabbing handfuls of the blankets under them, her mouth letting slip gasps and cries of pleasure that she'd never been brave enough to let out before.
The grunt of surprise against her neck would have warned her, if it wasn't for the shuddering aftershocks of her own climax that kept rippling through her. A flush of heat, tightening of strong arms around her, and then a slow ease of the weight off to the side, but he was still filling her, his face still pressed into the crook of her neck, and Fenlin never wanted to let go.
"Maker's mercy," Rahlen mumbled aginst her skin, trailing light kisses up to below her ear. "I..." he stumbled, unsure of words, and Fen let slip a breathless laugh, enjoying the man's inability to speak far too much.
"I..." he stammered. "I tried, but." she hushed him by catching his hand and bringing it to her mouth, kissing his palm softly.
"it's okay, I'm, er, precautions, I'll just be sure to sort out a back up or something tomorrow." She looked over her shoulder at him, and couldn't resist smiling as he closed the distance with a kiss.
"I'm clean, too," he mumbled against her lips. "Does this mean the rest of tonight I don't have to worry, hm?" She felt him twitch inside her, and Fenlin's cheeks warmed, again.
"You're hopeless," she answered, he words cut off by kisses.
Fenlin had spent most of the evening hiding out on the roof, arms tucked around her legs and trying not to panic that she'd been caught reading... that. It wasn't even Issie's, she'd just picked up the book by accident when she'd been pilfering through some rich noble's house for things to sell. Er, for clues about the Qun's movements.
Then, there on the nightstand, had been the Book. With a painting of what was clearly Rahlen on the cover and she'd snatched it up into her sack to examine later. She'd honestly thought it was a clue until chapter three, then by chapter four she couldn't stop reading it.
"Psst," Fenlin turned, looking over at the head that was peeking over the roof. Dark hair and pale skin in the orange glow from the foundry district, and more handsome than the book cover had portrayed him as. Rahlen, climbing up the ladder to join her on the stucco roof of the alienage house.
"I-" she stammered, turning red again. She glanced at the edge of the roof, debating leaping off it and hoping the resulting fall would erase the memories of the earlier afternoon.
"Relax," Rahlen said, walking over with a blanket in one hand, which he set on the stucco before he sat by her. "I wanted to talk to you about the book, is that okay?" He asked, looking at her. His ears were turning red, she was sure of it, and the blush was creeping back over his cheeks. "I uh, I just- it's weird that someone was writing about us. I wanted to see if there was any hints about why or how they knew about Athim and I travelling together."
"Right?" she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. "it's why i grabbed it in the first place." But it was somewhere in the house, and she hadn't been brave enough to risk going back inside.
"Tell you what," Rahlen said, pulling some things from the sack he'd had over a shoulder. A candle, a bottle and... a book!? THE BOOK. Fenlin froze, staring at it, then him. What was he going to tell her? To burn it? "Help me find what's going on with this," he said, waving the novel at her. "And I'll tell Athim that I burnt it."
Fenlin nodded, still not sure what he had planned.
"Read it to me," he said, patting the blanket next to him.
"Read-" she squeaked. "I don't-" she shifted over, taking the book gently from his hand. Holding it like it might bite her. "You're a bit sadistic aren't you?" she muttered, face burning.
"No, if I was, I'd have invited Athim to come listen," Rahlen said, lighting the candle so there'd be enough brightness to read by. "And I brought some liquid courage. For both of us."
Fenlin took the offered bottle, and a long swig from it before making a face and gasping as the alcohol burnt up and down her throat, leaving her whole being warm and burning just like her face.
"Alright," she said, settling in and flipping through to where she'd left off. "But for the record I kind of hate you for this."
"Noted, and ignored," Rahlen said, lying down with his hands behind his head.
"Chapter five," she said.
**
Tugging at the elf's belt, Rahlen didn't bother to hide his grin.
"I can see that," he murmured, running his palm up along the hot bulge straining against the front of Athim's woolen trousers. Just the touch made the elf gasp and squirm, making those delicious muscles dance in the campfire's light.
The trousers's drawstring waist was tugged open and Rahlen bent his head to run his lips and tongue along the throbbing velvet heat of Athim's elven glory.
Athim's breath caught in the golden elf's chest, and Rahlen felt the accompanying twitch of need under his tongue. If the elf's lips and skin tasted like summer, this was the midsummer haze of sex and sweat that flooded Rahlen's senses. Soft skin and throbbing hard muscle underneath begged for the Prince's attention.
"Fuck, Rahlen, please," Athim murmured, hips arching in an offering. Grinning, Rahen pulled the woollen pants down and out of his way, letting silken black hair trail over Athim's thighs as he bent his head to the elf once again. This time, achingly slow, he trailed his tongue along the man from base to tip, slowly tracing along every vein, every ridge he found along the way.
A moan trailed from Athim's lips, and Rahlen looked up to see the elf's head tilt back, eyes closing. The orange flicker of firelight on the elf's skin sent a shiver down Rahlen's spine, leaving him straining against his own breaches. Letting his hot breath wash over Athim's hips, Rahlen curled his hand around the elf, stroking along the underside of the man's cock with a war-callused thumb.
Elven glory indeed, but Athim was no run of the mill elf. He was the only one who understood the tension Rahlen had been living under. Tension that the prince had every intention of relieving that night.
**
"This elven glory stuff," Fenlin muttered, reaching for the bottle of whiskey for another swig. "It's... it's... ridiculous." Her ears were on fire, judging by how hot they felt.
"Keep going," Rahlen said, nudging her in the side. "Or I'll shout for Athim to join us."
**
Athim bit at his lip, fingers digging against Rahlen's scalp as the prince finally took him into his mouth.
"Creators, Rahlen," the elf hissed, twitching against Rahlen's tongue. "I don't know how long I can last when... when you..." the elf's breath hitched as Rahlen trailed his tongue along the very tip of him, tasting the first salty fruits of his labours. The shuddering moan Athim tried to stifle with a hand was enough encouragement for the prince who began to bob along the elf's shaft. He watched the elf shift and squirm under his mouth, the normally cool blue eyes now dark with hazy lust.
Ragged moans were slipping from Atim's mouth with each movement, and Rahlen could feel the man's hips twitch and trust helplessly.
"Rahlen-" Athim moaned, "I'm going to-" it wasn't nearly enough warning for Rahlen to pull back. His mouth flooded with salty heat, and Rahlen swallowed it down, lapping along with every twitch and spurt from the elf. Only as he felt the elf soften against his tongue did Rahlen pull back, wiping his mouth clean on the back of his hand.
"Creators," mumbled Athim, looking up at him with a flushed face. "I... I'd never dreamed you would." He swalled, reaching up and grabbing Rahlen's shirt front to pull the prince down into a hungry kiss. They rolled again, this time with Athim settling on top of the prince.
**
"Did they just roll into the fire?" Fenlin asked, trying not to think too closely about the warmth of the Prince behind her.
"Fen," Rahlen said, voice by her ear. He'd sat up, and now pulled her back to lean into him. The tip of his nose nudged along the crook of her neck, and she swallowed nervously, and tried not to think of the hot buldge that was nudging against the small of her back. It seemed that she wasn't the only one who had wanted to kno what else happened.
"Right. Uh, where was I..." she muttered, trying to focus on the page.
**
By the fire, the elf's golden mane looked like it was flame itself. Rahlen shuddered as he felt it trail featherlight over his now bare stomach. So hard he hurt, the prince bit his lip, watching intently as the elf -once a friend, now a lover- gasped at the sight of his full arousal.
"Fenedhis," Athim murmured, running warm hands over Rahlen's hips and then up his shaft. "It's perfect. You're perfect." Athim smiled at his prince, and bent forward, pressing his lips to the tip in a kiss, then slowly pressing his mouth down and around to return the prince's earlier gift.
Unlike the earlier teasing, Athim knew that Rahlen needed release. There was no coyness, no shame as the elf took the prince into his mouth and hand to please him. Stroking firm and quick, soon Rahlen was the one who found himself arching and hips twitching upwards into his lover's mouth.
"Athim," Rahlen moaned, one hand in the elf's hair, the other clutching the ground next to them.
The answering humm from the Elf's lips sent a jolt of pleasure through the prince, and he turned his head to the side, Body shuddering as his hips jerked up. It was too sudden to warn Athim, and the gasped grunt tore from Rahlen's throat far more loudly than he would have ever allowed himself to be with anyone else.
But this was Athim, and his very touch sent sparks through Rahlen's skin. It was only as Athim lay next to him, an arm draped across Rahlen's chest, did the prince regain his power of speech.
"Do you think they heard us?" Rahlen asked, nuzzling at his lover's ear. "I hope they did."
**
"Why'd you stop?" Rahlen asked, teeth nibbling at Fenlin's earlobe. A hand had crept around to press against her belly, pulling her back against him. Concentrating had been rather difficult for the last few paragraphs, and she was aware her voice had gotten more than a little breathless.
"End of the chapter," she murmured. "Chapter six starts with..." she squinted at the page. "A grumpy elf complaining she didn't get any sleep."
"Is that supposed to be you?" Rahlen chuckled, nudging her to tilt her head to the side so he could kiss along her neck. "You are the grumpy one of the party."
Fen tried to make a disgruntled sound, but it came out too thin and needy.
"I hate you," she said weakly, turning to look at him.
He grinned, and caught her lips with his. "you've said that." He said against her lips, before pulling her down to the blanket with him.
A story by Vertrand Tetris
---------------------------
Chapter 5
Weary from the battle, hard fought and hard won, the rag-tag team of young warriors sat around the camp's fire. Sons of the Heroes of Thedas, wearing weights on their shoulders that were cripplingly heavy. The weight of the world, of their mother's legacies.
The other party members had turned in for the night, shoulders less burdened. Lowborn and free, they had no way of knowing the thoughts on the young Prince's mind. Youngest of three, and the only mage in the history of the Theirin bloodline, Rahlen wore the burden well. But it was too heavy some nights.
"You're glaring at the fire," the son of the Inquisitor said. Golden where the Prince was darkhaired, elven where the Prince was human, the Son of the Inquisitor was the sun to Rahlen's moon.
"Was I? I'm sorry, I just can't help but shake the sight of that last village from my mind. I'd hoped we'd get there in time, but..." He shook his head. Glancing over his shoulder, away from the fire, the prince checked that the others were asleep.
"My mother would have been able to save them," He said, running a hand over his face.
"Stop," Athim said firmly. Reaching out and pulling the Prince's hand down. The elf's blue eyes bored into the Prince's like sharp blue shards of lyrium. "No one else understands. How it feels to be the child of a hero, no one but you. How you've managed so long, I don't know. I just-" The elf looked at the Prince, eyes flicking over the handsome face. So much like his mother's.
"No one knows what it's like to know you'll never live up to the precedent they've set," Rahlen finished for him. "But I can't stop trying."
"Exactly," Athim said, nose almost brushing Rahlen's now. "But you..." he didn't finish the statement. Not with words. Closing the distance, he pressed his lips to the prince's, hot and in need of reassurance. In need of something that the elf himself wasn't sure of. He started to pull back, but a hand caught the front of his tunic and pulled him tighter against Rahlen as the Prince deepened the kiss.
Athim tasted like summer, all sunlight and sweat and heat. Rahlen wanted to dive into that warmth and never return to the cold fall night he'd been in moments before. Hungry for more, Rahlen's tongue ran along Athim's lips to taste more of that honeyed summer heat before pressing deeper. Tasting Athim's groan, Rahlen grabbed the elf's narrow waist with strong fingers that dug through fine leathers and wool to grip hot skin beneath.
How long had he wanted this? Rahlen wondered, Athim's hands gripped the sides of his head, fingertips dragging over the shorn scalp to the nape of his neck. The prince felt a shiver run up his spine, goosebumps racing up his arms to find Athim's touch before those warm hands pulled away. They would, Rahlen thought. The elf would realise what they were doing and he'd pull back.
Only, It was Athim that pushed Rahlen down to the cool grass. Athim who tugged at Rahlen's tunic to untuck it from the prince's belt so hot hands could find the muscles he'd watched for weeks upon weeks.
"Maker," Rahlen groaned, arching under the elf's mouth as it travelled along his jaw to his ears. "Athim, please don't stop. If... if you're sure. If you want this."
Normally so sure, so confident, Rahlen swallowed the nerves jangling in his throat as Athim paused, and pulled back to look down at him. Heart in his throat, rahlen watched as Athim looked down at him, lit golden by the flickering campfire.
"I've never wanted anything more," the inquisitor's son said, peeling off his tunic and tossing it off into the darkness of the camp. "I've never wanted anyONE more." His mouth was hot on Rahlen's throat, and the prince felt the low growl more than he heard it.
"Fuck," he gasped, exploring the elf's tanned skin with his fingers and palms, wanting to touch and memorize as much as he could. The scars, thin slices from blades and uneven patches from spells gone wrong, all of it. And it still wasn't enough. He pushed Athim to the side, rolling them so he could taste the golden skin as well as feel it.
The air was cold, but the delicious golden elf's skin was still hot under Rahlen's lips. The prince ran his tongue over the elf's collarbone, and could taste Athim's pulse speed up with every thudded heartbeat. But Rahlen wanted more, he wanted to taste every throb of need and want, he wanted to make Athim gasp and arch the way the elf had so effortlessly done earlier with just a kiss.
Rahlen looked up at Athim, watching the other man's reaction as he eased down along the elf's breast bone, drawing lips and nipped teeth over the hot skin as he went.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, breath hot on Athim's belly, and Rahlen couldn't help but grin at the way the elf's muscles flexed and shifted at the warmth.
"No," it was more groan than spoken, the word falling from Athim's lips as the elf slipped his hand into the prince's hair. "Please don't stop, Rahlen. I need you. Creators, I need you so fucking bad."
Tugging at the elf's belt, Rahlen didn't bother to hide his grin.
"I can see that," he murmured, running his palm up along the hot bulge straining against the front of Athim's wollen trousers. Just the touch made the elf gasp and squirm, making those delicious muscles dance in the campfire's light.
The trousers's drawstring waist was tugged open and Rahlen bent his head to run his lips and tongue along the throbbing velvet heat of Athim's elven glory-
***
The door to the small alienage home where the team was staying, and Fenlin jumped, clutching the book tight to her chest, face brilliant red as Rahlen ducked under the low doorway and stepped into the room.
"It's a shame we didn't find out who's been cleaning our all the Tal Vashoth," Athim was saying, walking in behind the prince.
The both stopped, staring at Fenlin who was curled up around the book and absolutely failing to look innocent in any concievable way.
"What's this?" Rahlen asked, walking over and peering at the book in her arms. "Why're you so red?"
"It's Issie's, I was just, I just opened it-" Fenlin squeaked, trying to hide the book's cover, but Athim snatched it from her hands, looking over the page.
"...and Rahlen bent his head to run his lips and tongue along the throbbing velvet heat of Athim's elven glory," the elf read, eyebrows lifting up in surprise. Fen watched, hands clutched to her face as both men began to turn red. Athim from his collar upwards, Rahlen from his ears, in along his cheekbones.
"...What... is this?" Rahlen asked, having to clear his throat as he looked at the book. "it... it's about us?" Fenlin didn't miss the quickest of glances the prince cast over Athim's body, nor the way it lingered ever so slightly on Athim's neck.
"I..." Fenlin said, "Um. I need to go, be... alone. To die not to... oh gods kill me now.”
risque writings and smutty stuff. @calami-tease - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
