This is actually probably a pile of garbage. I was trying to go for romantic as opposed to smutty while keeping it realistic and while I don't think I succeeded, it seems a shame to let such a word count go to waste.
It had been a long time since Briala had to practice the art of being invisible. As an elf, she was typically invisible to begin with. But in the Royal Palace, where everyone must be always be accounted for, the stakes were much higher. Her elven ears lent to her invisibility, but her skin was darker than most of the other servants. If someone bothered to pay her enough attention it would all be over. She pulled the frock tighter around her curly brown locks and bent further into the dirt, planting new flower bulbs at a pace efficient enough to ignore.
The risk was high enough just getting into the palace walls. Thankfully, her kindness towards the other servants before her departure had played to her advantage, and they had smuggled her in without as much as a second thought. A part of her, the part that still played the Game, wondered if she had willingly walked into a trap. But she had nothing to offer the other elves, nor had she done anything to earn their ire. Likely the waiting was just making her paranoid.
Briala took a deep breath to calm herself. Elissima, who had elected to pass on Briala's return to the Empress, had been gone for quite some time. Then again, one could assume the Empress was a busy woman. Briala heard the news of her assuming the throne. It seemed like the next day peace was made with Ferelden and though Felassan, Briala's dalish mentor, could care less about Orlesian politics, Briala felt a swell of pride for Celene. Her lips tingled at the thought of seeing her again. She'd sworn to Felassan that Celene would take her back, but was she too prideful in that? Six years was a long time. And an especially long time when one becomes the Empress and the other an assassin. Still, Celene had never left her thoughts, despite their time apart. Perhaps it was the same for Celene.
Footsteps drew near to her position, and Briala kept her head down, digging her hands in the dirt to conceal the shade. A shadow passed over her, and Elissima dropped to her side with a basket filled with more bulbs. She also had a bundle of gardening tools and as she passed them to Briala, she whispered just loudly enough for the two of them to hear.
"Drakon is darkest at midnight," was all she said before she was up again, walking away at an efficient pace.
Briala unwrapped her tools slowly, unsurprised to find a Valmont servant mask inside. She slipped it on and immediately felt her shoulders loosen with the protection it provided. Finally feeling more at ease, she began to ponder the riddle Elissima had given her. Hopefully the riddle was from Celene, and not some elaborate play by the elves. Drakon was the first emperor of Orlais. There were dozens of paintings and statues in his honor, not only in the Royal Palace but in all of Val Royeaux. Frowning as she picked up another bulb, Briala tried to think back six years ago. When that produced nothing, she went back further.
Then it struck her. When they had been girls, there was a portrait of Drakon that hung in the Valmont family library. It was a fierce, bloody painting that depicted him as a warlord, and Celene had been terrified that Drakon would reach out and grab her if she passed it. Briala had first held the Empress' hand then, alone in the library, squeezing it reassuringly every time Celene looked back at the portrait during her studies. That very painting must be here. And wherever it was held the next clue. Satisfied, Briala set about to do the task at hand, and any others that were bestowed upon her during the day.
When it was safe, she enquired about the painting to the fellow servants. Given that it was such a striking painting, it was easily remembered as being in a storage closet near the garden. Though she made no expression, this surprised Briala. Why would a painting be stored away near the outdoors in a place where shovels and picks were kept? Deciding it was best to wait and see the situation for herself, Briala continued to enquire about various things so as not to make the others suspect anything and waited anxiously for midnight.
Throughout the day, Briala had studied the guard rotation for the palace gardens. When midnight rolled around, she had mastered their timed inspections and made her way to the storage closet. It was unlocked and she stepped swiftly inside, closing the door silently behind her. It was pitch black in the storage room, and Briala sighed and began to feel around for a light source. She found a set of cheap oil candles on one of the nearby shelves, along with a slightly rusted tinderbox. It took a few tries, plus a small strip from her dress, to light the candle, but eventually the cotton from her dress caught, and she quickly lit the candle before it flared out. The candle was cheap, clearly for the servants' use, but it was just enough light for Briala to get her bearings.
As she suspected, the storage closet was full of gardening tools. But as she slowly dragged the candle along the wall to search, she nearly stepped right through the portrait of Drakon. In spite of herself, Briala let out a slight gasp at the sight, taking a step back. It was the same portrait as she'd remembered, and no less intimidating. Steeling herself, Briala began to run the candle along the length of the frame, her hand following, feeling for any signs of a note or…anything. After feeling around for a third time and coming up empty handed, she huffed and straightened.
Had she misunderstood the riddle? There was also the possibility that this was a trap, and she was about to be discovered "stealing" from the Empress of Orlais. Briala stilled her breath for a moment and listened just in case. She heard nothing. Deciding to go back to the painting, she tilted it off of the wall and pushed it back, looking behind it. Nothing. Just as she was about to put her foot through Drakon's face out of spite, she saw it.
A few specks of dirt fluttered at her feet. They moved just slightly, but she crouched anyway and ran her finger along the stone wall. There was a crack on the bottom of the stone, a line, and air was coming through it. Setting her candle on a nearby shelf, Briala pushed against the wall. It took considerable effort, as the stones were real, but eventually the wall gave on an invisible hinge and swung inward to reveal a small, pitch black passage way. Briala smiled into the darkness, pleased with herself, and leaned the pictured against the door so that it would fall back into place when she closed it. Then, taking the candle, she stepped inside the passage way.
With the door shut behind her, it was once again pitch black but for the soft glow of the candle. Still, it only illuminated a few inches in front of her at best. Briala took slow steps, feeling and listening for any traps along the way. She found none as she reached a set of stairs. Judging by the time it took her to climb them, it must have gone up three stories. From there the passageway turned, and as she rounded the corner, she could make out the slightest indentation of light coming from the end of the tunnel. It was framed in a tall, rectangular shape. Briala reached out to it when she neared, and recognized it as another hidden door. She placed her finger in the seams and felt around, realizing that this was a sliding door, as opposed to a swinging one. Before pulling it open, Briala placed her ear against the door and listened.
She could hear a crackling fire and the soft scratch of a quill on parchment. Briala swallowed, reaching behind her to feel for the dagger in the belt of her dress. It was a weak, bent little thing, but if there was truly only one person behind the door, she was confident in her ability to take them down, should they not be the woman she desired to see. Taking a deep breath, Briala pushed on the door slowly, and it soundlessly slid to the side.
The sight before her could only be described as spectacular. A bed, larger than she had ever seen, with a beautifully painted, intricate headboard, held more pillows than she had ever seen. The blankets on top of it looked to be made of the finest material and shimmered in the glow of the fire. Past the bed was a chair, chaise, and table, whereupon an ornate teapot sat. Windows rose up past the headboard of stained glass, and they were tall and colorful one of the most masterful things she had ever seen. Cautiously, Briala stepped inside, careful of the polished wooden floor.
She was hidden from the mysterious scribe by a massive armoire against the wall she had just stepped out of. It, like the bed, was gloriously painted and made of a thick, expensive wood. Cautiously, she placed her hand against it and felt how smooth it was. Behind the safety of the armoire, and still hearing the scribe's writing, Briala took the time to turn and face the door she'd come out of. It turned out to be a massive mirror that looked to be inlaid into the wall. Briala took the seam of the door and slid it shut just as quietly, leaving her candle on the other side, pausing at her reflection in the mirror.
She could have done something more with her hair than bundle it up in the scarf on her head. And though she bathed this morning and had washed her hands and face before arriving she had still worked in the garden all day, then the kitchen. Briala grimaced, watching her nose crinkle beneath the mask. She probably smelled of dirt and onions. Hardly fitting to be seeing the Empress. She tugged at her dress, the small strip torn from the bottom to light the fire might as well have been a bloodstain it was so noticeable.
But she was here now. And Celene was waiting for her. Wanted to see her on some level at least. That had to be enough. It would be enough. Steeling herself, Briala silently stepped out from the side of the armoire and turned to face the scribe.
Celene's back was to her, still writing furiously. A candle, much nicer than the one she had used, sat next to her, burning brightly, half gone with her mask sitting next to it. Parchment littered the small desk she sat and Briala allowed herself to watch for a few moments.
Celene was in a midnight blue gown, plain but for the silver embroidered bodice. Her shoulders and the top of her back were exposed, and they were pale and smooth. Her platinum hair was still up in some sort of elegant design, and Briala fought back a smirk as she saw the Empress lean forward, placing her left arm on the table to hold up her head as wrote. Lady Mantillon would have had a fit at the sight of Celene sitting so impolitely. But Lady Mantillon was dead. And neither Briala nor Celene had to worry about her anymore. Briala's heart began to race in anticipation. It had been so long, and so many things had changed between them.
"Celene."
The Empress of Orlais, trained by the best bards in the country, did not startle at Briala's voice. But she did stop writing, slowly placing the quill back in the ink pot. With an easy grace, she rose from her chair and turned around.
For six years Briala had slept with the memory of sixteen year old Celene. She preferred not to remember her from that last night, Celene teary eyed and red faced, her hair mussed from where she had pulled off the jeweled hairclip. Instead, she remembered her in the few hours before. Hair up and beautiful, decorated with ribbons. Her eyes shining before she put on her mask, teasing Briala about the new servant boy with wandering eyes. Briala had thought her to be the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen.
But standing before her was a woman. Slightly taller, Celene's face had become sharper, more refined, though her eyes were still large, still that crystalline blue. Even with being greatly aided by the corset (as enhancing the bust was the current Orlesian fashion) Briala could see that her body had become more womanly as well, her chest and hips larger than her waist. She stood taller than Briala had ever seen, a commanding power in her presence that must have come from being the Empress. But Briala was not intimidated. Rather she was awestruck that her memory, enhanced by dreams and fantasies, could be paled by the woman before her, the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.
Celene seemed to be captivated as well. Her eyes moved slowly from each of Briala's eyes, they traveled further downward, studying each part of her body. Briala imagined she must seem a spirit to Celene. She was fourteen when she left her side, still a child. She wondered if Celene thought her face had slimmed down as well, if her body had developed as it was supposed to. Then she remembered she was still wearing the servants mask, and she reached up to pull it off, gripping it tightly between her fingers.
Celene lifted her head slightly at the action and swallowed as she took in Briala's face. Briala smiled slightly. She may have been a little rusty at the game, but it didn't take an expert to see that Celene was fighting to control her expression. Hiding the mask behind her back, Briala did a low curtsy.
"Your majesty," she whispered.
In an instant, Celene was in front of her. A sculpted pale hand was placed under her chin, lifting her from her curtsy. Briala opened her eyes and allowed them to follow Celene's dress up, meeting her eyes when she was standing. Celene's eyes were slightly watered and she smiled broadly, pulling Briala into a hug.
"Bria," she murmured against Briala's ear, holding her tightly.
Briala felt goosebumps rise on her arms at the sound of the Empress' voice. No longer shrill but smooth and confident. She brought her arms around Celene's back. It was taut and hard from the corset but the material was soft and rich. Her finger grazed the edge of the dress and for a moment she felt Celene's smooth skin, warmed from the fire.
Celene pulled away slowly and their eyes met again. Briala was still not used to this face, so familiar and yet altogether new. But she would stare at it for ages if the world would allow. Celene ran her eyes up and down Briala's face once more before taking her hands.
"It's been so long," she murmured with a slight smile. "I scarcely believed it was really you. Then she showed me the mask I'd given you. I…I almost didn't dare hope."
"I'm glad you did."
"As am I. Tell me, how are the dalish? I half expected…."
She drifted, her hand gesturing to her face and Briala realized she had forgotten the word for the dalish tattoos. She promised herself she would teach Celene all of those forgotten words again, just to hear them spoken from those lips.
"I never made it to the dalish."
Celene's face fell in sympathy and Briala continued.
"I sought revenge for my parents instead."
Celene's eyes hardened, and she swallowed once. She squeezed Briala's hands tightly. "And…did you find it?"
"Lady Mantillon is dead. I expect you'll receive word shortly."
Celene nodded and for a moment her eyes became cloudy. Briala traced her thumb along Celene's fingers comfortingly. For all of her treachery, Lady Mantillon had been the closest thing to a parent after Celene's were murdered. She should have told her more tactfully. In a moment, Celene blinked the clouds away and smiled softly at Briala.
"Has it helped? Her death?"
"It is good to be finished. To put it behind me and focus on…other things."
The Empress nodded and then sighed. "We've so much to discuss. It would be impossible to put six years into tonight. I…got you something."
Briala's hands went cold as Celene's left them. She moved to the large armoire and opened a drawer, pulling out a dagger belt with two daggers already inserted. For a moment she paused to stroke the leather, then turned to Briala and smiled almost nervously.
"Given the short notice, I couldn't get a belt made for you, but I can adjust this until one is made. This is one of mine."
She extended the belt to Briala. The elf almost didn't want to touch it, fearing she would ruin the beauty. The leather was made of drakeskin and she traced her finger over the sigil of the Empress that was impressed upon it. It was warm to the touch and unbelievably durable. The daggers glimmered in the firelight and, after getting a reassuring look from Celene, Briala pulled one from its sheath. It looked as delicate as glass and shimmered a mesmerizing mix of blue and silver. Silverite.
"Celene," Briala whispered, placing the dagger gently back in the sheath. "I can't—
"Of course you can. Of course you should," the Empress insisted. Then, in a move far more graceful than could be conceived in a gown, Celene got down on one knee.
Briala lifted her hands automatically as Celene wrapped the belt around her waist. Being of the finest quality, this belt came with a buckle and Celene slid it into the last notch to accommodate Briala's smaller waist. She adjusted it slightly, her fingers running along Briala's waist and making the elf shiver underneath her dress. Briala kneaded her hands together to keep herself from placing a hand on Celene's head and stroking the silver hair that sparkled like gold in the firelight. She remembered their first and only kiss vividly. It still made her tingle to think about it. But that was long ago, and a much different time. Perhaps Celene just wanted her friend back and nothing more. Regardless, she would wait for the Empress to make any sort of move.
"There. They look splendid," Celene said, standing.
Briala lowered her hands and touched the handles of the daggers. They were at just the right height, and she pulled them out quickly, testing them. Of course they were of the highest quality and she had never handled anything so fine, but she ran through a few more moves to watch Celene's eyes glisten as she watched her.
"These are beautiful. Thank you. It makes my gift pale in comparison."
Celene's eyebrows rose in delight and she gave a coy smile. "You got me something?"
It was as if she was eleven years old again, dancing and clapping in her chair at all of the gifts bestowed upon her at her birthday. Gifts that she would enjoy once before passing onto Briala as cast offs. Briala couldn't help but at chuckle at the memory.
"Yes, but I don't want to give it now. It's not as good as silverite daggers."
Celene pouted just slightly, perceptible only by those skilled in the game, but it was enough for Briala to chuckle again, dipping her head. Celene's hands fell gently upon her cheeks, lifting her to meet her eyes again. Looking back at her was the woman known as The Lioness. The Empress of Orlais, the single mightiest power in all of Thedas, looked at Briala as if she was the most treasured being in the world.
"Any gift from you is certain to be cherished," she whispered at their closeness, her tone deathly serious.
Briala smiled to ease her desires of wanting to lunge forward and kiss Celene. She looked down for a moment and produced a small article from her pocket. She held it out and Celene took it gently, holding it up to the fire to examine.
"It was supposed to be for your coronation. Sorry it's so late."
Celene smiled softly at her words and studied the intricate design. She traced her finger along the ridge and found the clasp, gently pulling the locket apart. Briala swallowed as she watched Celene study the inscription. The locket had been given to her by her mother to give to someone whom Briala thought worthy. She clearly hadn't been thinking of this moment when she imagined giving it to Celene. She only knew that Celene was the one who should have it.
"Ma…vhenan?" she read slowly, her head lifting to Briala for confirmation. "What does that mean?"
To buy herself some time, Briala gestured for Celene to come over. The Empress obeyed, unhooking the locket and turning once she neared Briala, bending her knees so the elf could secure it around her neck. Briala hooked it quickly, desperately trying to keep her fingers from touching Celene too much. She didn't know how much longer she could resist. Once she was done, Celene turned and faced her. She smiled at Briala and looked down at her chest, her hand tracing over the locket.
"I love it," she said, and Briala could tell it was sincere. "As I promised, it is cherished." Her face fell just slightly then, and she reached for Briala's hand again, tracing it with her thumb. "You understand I cannot wear it all the time, right?"
Briala nodded, chuckling to herself. "I may have been gone awhile, Celene, but I have not forgotten how Val Royeaux works."
Celene nodded and squeezed Briala's hand, her free hand tracing the locket again. "So, what does it say?"
"Do you remember what you gave me on the night you sent me away?" Briala asked, feeling her cheeks burn as her voice cracked.
Celene's brow furrowed slightly and she looked to the floor for a moment. "Lady Mantillon's hairpin," she said sadly.
Briala shook her head. Her throat had gone dry and her heart was racing. Celene had initiated it the first time, had confirmed what Briala had been too scared to admit to herself. But now, after so many years, it might as well have never happened.
"No, not that."
Celene paused for a moment, then recollection lit up her eyes. She took a step forward, one hand sliding around Briala's waist while the other brought her face upward. Briala barely had time to be concerned about her slightly chapped lips before Celene kissed her again. It was gentler than the first time, slower and softer. There was no need for urgency tonight. Briala exhaled slowly and brought her hands around Celene, her hand going for the small expanse of skin on the Empress' back, caressing it with her fingertips.
Celene pulled her tighter and began to move her lips, Briala following suit as their kiss deepened. She felt Celene's hands cautiously exploring her back and waist and shivered at her touch. The Empress was hardly a large woman in any regard, but she was still bigger than Briala's elven form, and the strength with which she held Briala to her caused the elf to moan slightly into her mouth.
Celene smiled against Briala's lips and Briala found herself being gently pushed backwards. Her back pressed against the wall and Briala gasped in delight as Celene pressed her body against her, hands traveling up and down her sides. Briala gripped at Celene's back but her elegant dress put far too much between them. Briala had applied and removed more of the Empress' clothing than she could count, and she quickly undid the buttons of the dress, revealing the tight corset beneath. With a groan of frustration, Celene pulled away from Briala and began to tear her sleeves from her arms, pulling the gown down to her waist. Briala found the base of the satin ribbon that laced Celene's corset and undid it, pulling harshly on the laces to loosen them.
Celene gasped as the corset loosened around her, her chest finally able to expand. With heavy breaths she looked down and pried the busk apart, the corset falling to the floor with a hollow clatter. Then, dress half off and chemise still clinging to her body, she lunged forward again. Briala was prepared this time and met Celene's mouth eagerly. She controlled the pace this time, and started slower, their kisses long and deep instead of quick and furious. Celene gave a soft, content hum, her fingers climbing to remove Briala's scarf and run her hands through the soft curls.
Slowly Briala moved her hand from Celene's delicate neck down her side. Celene was warm even through her chemise and Briala gripped her tightly, feeling her skin yield beneath her fingers unlike the blighted corset. Celene's hips had started to rock against hers as the Empress left her mouth and instead began to kiss along the side of her jaw before moving along her neck. When she reached a certain spot, Briala's legs nearly gave out from underneath her and she groaned loudly, pushing back against Celene's hips. She heard Celene laugh softly before the Empress attacked the same spot again. Then she moved to the other side to find more. Deciding to partake herself, Briala kissed along Celene's shoulder, her hand still grabbing at whatever she could find.
It was all so shocking. She had certainly hoped that Celene would still return her affections, but to be touching her love in this way, being the cause of her little gasps and moans was more than she could have ever imagined. She wanted more of Celene, to consume her in a way that went beyond lovemaking. She wanted somehow for their souls to come together, because even with the Empress pressed right up against her it wasn't close enough. And they had six years to make up for.
Briala slid her hands down Celene's back again, feeling them run into the blasted dress. She sighed in frustration and Celene laughed again, tearing herself away from the elf's neck to meet Briala's eyes. The Empress' face was flushed, her chest splotchy from her efforts. She was beautiful and she looked happier than Briala had ever seen her. Free, even, in some small way. Briala smiled at her and traced her finger down the Empress' cheek.
The situation had just become slightly awkward. Briala would be content to be pressed against this wall by Celene forever, but that didn't seem like the appropriate thing to. She knew what she wanted to do to Celene, but didn't quite know how to go about it. Celene appeared to be thinking the same thing and they both grinned at each other before Celene leaned in to give her a quick kiss, because it was so simple to do that now.
"Perhaps I should get out of this gown," Celene murmured, tugging self-consciously at the bundle of fabric around her waist.
"Perhaps you should," Briala answered, turning Celene around to undo the petticoat.
Given that the dress had most definitely not been removed in the appropriate manner, it took a bit of shimmying on Celene's part to get it off. But finally it all slid past her hips, leaving the Empress in just her chemise and stockings. Being the Empress, Celene's chemise was more tailored to her form than Briala was used to seeing, and she allowed herself to look up and down as Celene stood before her.
"I know," Celene said after a moment, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment as she clasped her hands in front of her. "I look horrible in white."
"You're beautiful, Celene," Briala answered quickly.
Celene must have seen the certainty that Briala felt, for she smiled almost shyly and gestured to Briala's clothes.
"Well…" she began, before moving forward.
She reached out and deftly undid the dagger belt from Briala's waist, letting it drop to the floor. Being in servants' clothes, Briala's dress was much easier to undo, and Celene slid it easily off her shoulders before it fell into a pool at her feet. Briala's chemise was also not tailored for her body like Celene's was, and it hung bulkily from her body. If Celene noticed, however, she made no showing of it. In fact, she hardly looked at her body, choosing instead to look into her eyes.
Truthfully, Briala didn't know that Celene was capable of looking at her with such love, such joy. But even with their awkwardness and the pile of clothes that were at their feet, Briala knew beyond a doubt now that Celene felt as strongly for her as she did for Celene. And that was enough to make everything all right.
Her eyes never leaving Celene's, Briala crouched down before the Empress, her hands extending towards the silk stockings on her feet. Celene lifted her chemise to reveal the tops of the stockings which were just above her knees, secured with a garter. Briala reached up and began to roll the stocking down slowly, watching as the Empress' leg was revealed to her. Celene had always been pale, and at her closeness Briala could see the intricate lines of blue beneath her skin where warm blood flowed. Briala loved it. Truly loved everything about this woman. She slipped the stocking off and dropped it to the floor before leaning in again, kissing the outside of Celene's thigh. She heard Celene take a deep breath, the chemise rising just a bit higher to reveal more of her leg. She was blonde everywhere, from the hair on her head to the short strands on her legs. Briala smiled and ran her hands up the Empress' leg before dragging her nails down gently.
Celene hissed, and before Briala could look up to see if she'd hurt her, she felt the Empress' hand on her head, urging her for more. Briala complied, kissing up and down Celene's thigh and tracing her hands over any bare skin she could reach. Some of it seemed more effective than others, but Briala didn't mind that she was taking a few moments for herself. And neither did Celene, really. When Briala had finally removed the second stocking she felt a tug on her hair, the Empress commanding her back up. Briala dutifully obeyed and Celene greeted her with a slow kiss upon her return.
Briala kissed her back, all the while feeling Celene's fingers crawl along the outside out of her thighs, rolling her own chemise up. When she'd finally grasped the helm, Celene pulled away slowly and raised her eyebrows. Briala nodded once then felt her chemise rise. She lifted her arms and let Celene lift it over her head, where she heard it drop to the floor. She felt the draft instantly even though the room was warm and shivered slightly. Though Celene had been nude in front of her many times before for baths and getting dressed, the same was not true for the elf. Despite her comfort in front of Celene, Briala still felt herself blushing at the thought of Celene seeing her this way. She still hadn't met her eyes.
Pale fingers reached out to her darker chest and ghosted downward. Briala looked up to find Celene, red faced with swollen lips, staring at her with that look again. That look that made her feel like she could conquer the world. Celene gave a short laugh and looked down.
"I'd always imagined you had freckles everywhere," she said quietly, running her hands over the freckles that covered the elf's chest. "I imagined kissing every one of them."
Briala smiled, feeling her nerves ease once more. "There is not enough time for that," she teased.
"There is," Celene countered, the voice of the Empress seeping into her tone. "There is time now."
"Yes…your majesty."
Celene's eyes darted lower and her brow furrowed slightly, hand reaching out to skim the bare skin between Briala's hips. Elves didn't grow hair like humans did, and though Briala knew this from having bathed and dressed the Empress, Celene appeared to be unaware of this fact. In fact, she looked almost lost in thought, her brain switching over to biology rather than the task at hand.
"Shall I leave you to your thoughts?" she teased finally.
Celene scoffed, moving in to kiss her again. Her hands came around Briala's body once more and the feel of her smooth, unworked hands on her skin made Briala shiver, pangs of pleasure shooting down her thighs. Briala broke the kiss to keep from getting too overwhelmed and reached for the hem of Celene's chemise. Celene lifted her arms for the elf to remove the garment and brought them down to rest on her torso once it was off. Despite the chemise, the corset had left glaring, red indentations on the Empress' body and Celene drug her finger up and down one of them idly.
Briala felt a pang of sympathy at the sight of her love in pain and reached out to smooth out a few indentations with her hands. They worked on them for a few minutes, the Empress occasionally giving a hiss at the deeper ones. When they were nothing more than pink memories, Celene extended her hand to Briala and led her over to the massive bed. Briala watched as Celene turned down her own bed, forcing herself to keep her hands to herself as she did so. When the covers were finally pulled back, Celene climbed in and beckoned Briala to join her. The elf did as she was told, sliding into a bed that had to have been as soft as the clouds in the sky. She sighed happily as her body slid against the sheets and turned to face Celene.
The Empress was smiling and she reached out to stroke Briala's wild curls affectionately. "How I've missed you."
"And I you."
"I'm afraid to sleep tonight. Afraid that I'll wake up and you'll have just been a dream."
"I'm here, Celene," Briala murmured, taking Celene's hand and gently kissing her fingertips.
Celene smiled again, and in a moment she was on top of Briala. Briala's eyes widened at the sudden change but her hands immediately went to rest along Celene's back. Celene wiggled her hips and Briala opened her legs, allowing the Empress to rest between them. They stayed like that for a few minutes, kissing softly before Celene pulled away, breathless despite the slow pace.
"I want you," she said. It was the voice of the Empress again, this time husky with lust.
"Yes," Briala managed, Celene's voice sending fresh chills throughout her body.
In a surprising moment of awkwardness, Celene made to slide down Briala's body, only to slide right back up. "I don't…I have never…" Celene sighed in frustration and rand her hand down Briala's chest, grazing her nails back up.
Briala smiled and ran her thumb along Celene's swollen bottom lip. "I would advise against biting."
Celene rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance even as her chest rumbled with suppressed laughter. "Well, I suppose you're not wrong."
In response Briala pulled the Empress down and kissed her deeply, running her tongue along Celene's lip. Celene responded eagerly, rolling her hips against Briala again. Briala lifted one leg and crossed it over Celene's, still not satisfied with the space between them. She ran her hands over as much of Celene's body as she could, smiling against her mouth when the Empress groaned her approval of certain places.
Celene broke their kiss then and shifted downward, kissing and sucking on the spots on Briala's neck she'd found earlier. Briala gasped at the sudden jolts of pleasure and lifted her hips against Celene, meeting the Empress' rocking motions instinctually. Celene moved lower still and began her task of kissing every one of Briala's freckles. A free hand slid up Briala's side and gently rested itself on her breast. She let out a small yelp of pain when the Empress squeezed a bit too hard and Celene was immediately over top of her, eyes focused in concern. The locket was still around her neck and it knocked gently against Briala's chin, a constant reminder of the love she had for her Empress.
"I'm sorry," Celene whispered, running her nose along the length of Briala's ear before skimming it with her teeth.
Briala gave a delighted hiss at the sensation then moaned louder as Celene moved to soothe the pain with her tongue. Briala's breath was coming in short gasps, her body moving against Celene's of its own will as Celene continued her path down the elf's body. She was agonizingly slow, testing every inch of skin to see what Briala liked and what she didn't. A few locks of hair had come loose from her braided bun and they tickled as she made her way down Briala's stomach.
When Celene reached her destination Briala forced her eyes open make sure that she wasn't dreaming. Celene smiled at her, as if she was in disbelief too, then descended. Briala nearly jolted off the bed as the sensation struck her and Celene wrapped an arm over her hips to keep the elf steady. After some instruction, a few laughs, and a few frustrated sighs, Celene had finally registered Briala speechless, save for the few staccato gasps and moans that managed to escape. Despite Celene's arm over Briala's hips the elf was still rocking, her hand gripping tightly to Celene's hair. Though no stranger to pleasure, this was nothing like what she had experienced before. Celene's patience was sporadic at best, but in this moment she could not be deterred from her task, and that realization alone sent another pulse of pleasure through the elf. At last Briala slipped over the edge, her nails digging into Celene's scalp as her hips rose off the bed before collapsing.
Celene relaxed the grip in her arm, which had started to ache. Briala felt the Empress' mouth slide against her inner thigh and even that was almost a sensory overload. Her senses were still coming back to her, slowly, and her entire body tingled as if struck by lightning. And yet, despite her delirium, she still managed to beckon Celene towards her. Celene slid slowly up her body and kissed her deeply. Briala wrapped her arms around her and held her close.
"You're so beautiful, Bria," Celene whispered in between kissing. "I always thought so. I've always wanted to tell you."
Briala hummed softly, attempting to push Celene's stray locks behind her ear. "Now you can tell me every day."
"And I shall."
Briala's high was nearing its end, and with the oncoming clarity came another form of desire. Celene over top of her, red-faced, hair mussed, small beads of sweat gracing her forehead. She could feel her skin warm and soft against hers, the slight push against her with each breath, the heartbeat that resounded strongly from Celene's chest. The soft sounds of her breathing and the way Briala's locket still dangled from her neck. The way Celene's skin always felt new and wonderful, even though she'd traced the same design on her back over and over. She needed more of her.
Briala sat up and pushed Celene over onto the bed. Celene gasped at the sudden change but was quick to grin at the look in Briala's eyes. With their positions switched, Briala could now understand why Celene spent so much time on areas that gave little pleasure. Looking down at Celene she realized she wanted every part of her. Not just her neck or thighs but her forehead, her chin, her arm, knees, every bit of her needed to be touched, loved. It was the only way that she could show Celene just how much she loved her, how much she needed her. And even then it might not be enough. Briala's curls were falling into her face, obstructing her view of her beloved and she shook her head unsuccessfully. Celene's hands came up, pushing the curls back and holding them there.
"Bria," she murmured, giving Briala's head an affectionate squeeze.
Briala leaned down slowly and met Celene's waiting mouth. Being smaller than Celene, she rested her full weight on the Empress, who made no complaint, still holding Briala's hair out of the way. It still wasn't close enough, but it would have to do. Briala deepened their kiss, lifting herself up with one arm while the other ran its fingertips up and down Celene's side. Celene's hands left Briala's head to hold her close, strong arms encircled around her back. Despite Celene's protesting groan, Briala left her mouth and moved downward, kissing and touching every inch of the Empress' skin. Celene was unbelievably soft, and under the sweat were hints of honeysuckle and rose from her bath. Goosebumps arose wherever Briala's fingers landed, and occasionally Celene would give a soft moan of delight at a particular area which drove the elf wild.
Briala dragged slow, sloppy kisses down the Empress' inner thigh while her nails scraped along the outer. Celene's hips were rolling softly, eager for what to come. The elf ran a hand through the hair. It was more wiry than she expected, but still soft. Celene's hips twitched oddly at that. Sensitive too, it seemed. Leaving it for the moment, Briala lowered her head and let out a warm exhale. Celene groaned at the teasing and rolled her hips again. Briala smiled at her Empress, so unbelievably beautiful in this moment. She had to be with her. Down here was too far. She wanted to see her face, feel her breath and capture those lips every time they parted. Celene gave another frustrated sigh as Briala left her thighs and traveled upwards again. To keep Celene from waiting any longer, Briala kissed her while sliding a hand up her thigh, back down, and then in between. She only knew what worked for her but figured that it was as good a place as any to start.
Celene broke the kiss to arch her back at the first touch, inhaling sharply. Briala took the opportunity to kiss along her jaw, careful not to leave a mark as the Empress began to rock against her hand. Celene was not near as vocal as Briala had been about what worked, so Briala resorted to her skills learned in the game. She lifted herself up with her free arm and looked down at Celene, watching, listening, and feeling for what she liked. Thankfully, while not vocal, Celene was also not one to give praise where it wasn't due and Briala soon found a rhythm that had the Empress rocking forcefully into her hand, mouth ever parted as short, quite moans escaped her lips.
Briala felt Celene's pace grow wilder and forced her hand to remain steady, despite her excitement. She never truly thought she'd see this day. The Empress of Orlais, her lover, writhing beneath her from the pleasure she was giving. Celene had run her hand past Briala's forehead and into her hair, where she held tight, keeping the hair from her eyes. The locket bounced softly on Celene's chest, an ever present reminder of the fact that Celene was hers and she was Celene's. Briala leaned down and applied just a bit more pressure as she captured Celene's parted lips. Celene's grip on her hair tightened, and the Empress stilled, heels digging into the bed and nails dragging down Briala's back. Briala slowed her pace but kept moving, guiding the Empress through her release until she finally relaxed against the bed, panting.
Briala removed hand, sliding it along the bedsheets before bringing it up to the Empress' cheek. Celene gave a weak smile at the touch. Her eyes were still shut as she came down from her high, Briala knowing the feeling well. Briala was patient as the Empress came out of it, placing soft kisses on her cheeks and neck while her hands soothed trembling thighs.
At last Celene opened her eyes with a satisfied sigh. Briala bent down to kiss her stomach, then made short kisses all the way up, stopping at the locket. She sat up and traced the outline of the locket on Celene's skin, pleased to see goosebumps rise again.
"Ma vhenan," she said quietly, meeting Celene's eyes. "My heart."
Celene smiled softly, placing a hand over the locket. "My heart," she repeated before reaching out to place her hand on Briala's cheek. Her thumb ran over Briala's cheekbone. "Ma vhenan," she confirmed.
Briala leaned down and they kissed again, holding each other tightly. The night was coming to an end. Soon Briala would have to dress and make her way back into the passageway. For a moment she wondered how Celene would explain the scratches on her thighs, or what the servants would think of their Empress smelling of sex. But then Celene hummed softly, and it was such a content sound that Briala pushed the thoughts from her mind. Right now, it was just her and Celene, an elf and a woman in love. Right now, it was all that mattered.