Pronunciation:
Ainion (Eye-nee-on)
The Knight-Commander. She could go to him, and he could keep her safe she thought quickly, tears streaming down her face that bordered on hysterical. She looked at the elf beside her, and still couldn't quite believe that her squire still remained loyal.
"Ainion," she began, rehearsing the speech that he had heard several times already, "you don't have to come with me. You may be my squire, but my shame does not have to be yours."
"My lady," he sighed the words with frustration, "I made a vow to you when I was thirteen years old, and my sword and I will be by your side until I stop drawing breath."
Ainion's lady raked her hand through her shoulder length hair in irritation. She didn't want the boy to be labeled an outlaw and hunted as well. Ainon had just reached his 18th birthday, and while she was a mere six years his senior, she always felt more like his mother than an older sister, or, simply the knight he served. Perhaps this was due to the fact that Ainon had come to her newly orphaned, more boy than man, claiming to be ready to become a squire for a Great Lady. Although he was wicked fast with the two small daggers in his hand, the pain in his moss-green eyes was palpable. As she looked at him now, she could still see the scrawny, dirty boy with stringy hair that was a bit too long for a boy. Even though he did not look particularly skilled, when asked to tell the hours—a series of movements that demonstrate Orlesian battle techniques—he far outshined the boys of noble blood who had private tutors. He had told her later that a lyrium-addled ex-templar who lived in the same slums that Ainon called home used to give him lessons, and in exchange Ainon pick-pocketed coin to feed the templar's lyrium habit. Ainon stopped visiting the templar when he found his mentor on his knees before a known lyrium smuggler, whoring himself for the "dust." She long-suspected that Ainon considered the junkie a second father, since his own had been taken by the plague shortly before Ainon was born. This was a crushing blow for a ten year old in the throes of hero-worship. But, Ainon had learned his lessons well and applied them daily to survive. By the time he was thirteen the boy was sly enough to bribe a guard to get him into squire tests. And the rest was history, so to speak. She glanced at the man before him, short dirty blond hair, a determined scowl played on his face currently. She had to admit that it did annoy her that she had to turn her head up to actually see Ainon's face. Damned tall elves, she thought crossly, secretly mourning the little boy who gave her such looks of love that it was frightening. Not that she was an easy taskmaster. Ainon was a professional swordsman and nearly a god with daggers because she made sure he practiced every day, for the last five years. Amusingly enough, Ainon could not grasp the basics of a bow—the traditional elven weapon. She partly believed he did this on purpose, ashamed of his heritage. Even though she was not easy on the elf, she did make sure he was well-cared for and she occasionally snuck him caramel treats once she learned that they were his favorites. When one of noble birth would comment on his status as a poor orphan, or imply that his elven heritage made him "dirty," she would defend him fiercely as any lioness would her precious cub. Perhaps, she thought, she should have been cruel to him. If that had been the case, no doubt he wouldn't have followed her into exile. Because that's where she would be going. Away from Val Royeaux and Orlais altogether.
She broke the silence finally, "If anyone can help me-"
"You mean us," he said firmly.
"Yes, us," she said between gritted teeth, "it will be Knight-Commander Adrien. There are underground passages that will take us to the Chantry."
Ainion nodded and followed silently.
Ainion watched his lady-knight push a hidden lever and the door slowly creaked open. Luckily their trek to the Chantry was uneventful. Besides a few scary looking spiders and some toads that liked to exist in the underground passages, they ran into no obstacles.
"Are you sure you can trust him?" Ainion finally voiced the doubt that had been nagging him, and unconsciously fingered the pommel of his striker, a formidable Orlesian blade.
"His wife was my nurse," the lady said, as if that should explain her implicit trust, but did continue, "My nurse was the closest thing I had to a mother…wherever Adrien's loyalties lie, he will make an exception for me. He will help."
Ainon followed her through the dusty passage and was relieved—and wary—to see light. Chantry candles, it seemed that they were in the upper-sanctuary. Good, he thought, this would be close to the knight-commander's quarters. Ainon heard a sigh behind him and quickly drew his weapon and stepped in front of his knight.
"I was hoping you would seek me out," the tall knight-commander stepped out of the shadows and Ainon was surprised to see his lady jump into the older man's arms.
He returned the embrace quickly and took her face in his hands, "Tell me what they say isn't true, sweet one?"
Tears fell as she vehemently shook her head. "Adrien, I need your help to get out of the city—Ainon insists on following me, so I will need passage for him as well."
Although she made him sound like a burden, Ainon puffed his chest out a bit when she announced his intentions. He was proud of his decision to accompany and protect his wrongly-accused chevalier. The knight-commander let out another sigh and turned to face the statue of Andraste.
"Girl," he said slowly, "you are like my own daughter, and although I would like to protect you, I cannot do so if you are within arm's reach of the royal guard. The only option I have for you currently is Par Vollen."
"Par Vollen?" she said, astonished, "You want me to join those that abandon Andraste to serve the Qun?"
"I know of a couple of…I guess you would call them Bards," he said slowly, "who intend to escape repercussions of a recent high-level assassination by fleeing to the Qunari. I had intended to apprehend them, but now, I see it as your only option for escape."
She joined the knight-commander, also gazing at the figure of Andraste. "I cannot join the Qunari," she said in low tones, "Even if I gave up my Andrastian beliefs, won't the Qunari know that we are only following the Qun to escape Orlesian law?"
The knight-commander looked at the young woman standing next to him, pride and pain in his eyes, "This is not a permanent solution," he finally answered, "I will find a way to clear your name so you can return to Val Royeaux. As far as the Qunari go, yes, there is always that possibility. But, if you follow their rules to the letter you should be able to make it."
She looked down at her feet, still undecided. She knew of some stories about the Qunari, and many of them painted them as cold, heartless beasts. Others saw them as noble. She looked at the knight-commander, her eyes pleading for another choice.
"In the name of my deceased wife, your beloved nurse," he said, choking on the words, "Please do this. It is the only way."
Her eyes widened, shocked that he had used the memory of the woman they had both loved to coerce her into this decision. But, he did have a point—it was her only choice. That, or death by execution.
She was happy to see the ocean, finally. They had been trekking across Ferelden and then the Free Marches for almost a good month. Sitting on the dock, next to the Isabella—their ship that would take them to the Qunari—she tried to think of the name of this city. Catwall? Kickwall? What was the name of this town? Kirkwall, that's right. A depressing town that was only now recovering from the Mage Rebellion. The ship would go north, to Par Vollen. Or at least as close to Par Vollen as a non-Qunari ship could venture. But, they were lucky to get this far. Apparently there was still a Qunari presence, nearly a decade after the Champion took the head of the Arishok. Although as Davis, one of the Orlesian bards, had told her, these Qunari weren't Qunari but Tal Vashoth. She was struggling to grasp this new world that she had been forced into. But, the good news was that these Tal Vashoth were willing to send "pilgrims" to the Qunari and they now had a sea map and a willing ship captain. Thank the Maker for the coin that Adrien had given her.
"Alessia!" she turned to see who had shouted the name.
"Ainon," she said and smiled, genuinely glad to see him.
He scowled at her and sighed, "If you expect people to believe that your name is Alessia, then you actually have to answer to it. I called to you several times!"
"Andraste preserve me," she muttered, disgusted that she couldn't get the simplest detail of her lie to work.
Ainon snorted loudly and she looked up, "You might not want to say that either…maybe, the Qun preserve me?"
Alessia shook her head and smiled as Ainon chuckled at his own jest, "Ainon, how are we ever going to pull this off?
He sat down next to her, staring out into the ocean, "We'll make it, Alessia. I promise."
She turned toward him, "It sounds weird for you to call me that, but I suppose I need to get used to it."
Ainon turned toward her and lifted an eyebrow, "We've been on the road with these Bards nearly a month and they've called you nothing else. You're still not used to it?"
"They don't seem…I don't know. As real as you."
"Well," he said, flashing her an easy grin, "I'll take that as a compliment."
Suddenly a voice rang out, "Knife-eared bastard!"
Alessia and Ainon turned to see a dwarf running after an elven boy, no more than ten years old.
"Stop him" the dwarf shouted, "He stole my coin!"
The elven boy ran to the end of the docks and looked warily at the water and back at the dwarf running toward him. The boy elf threw up his arms in the universal sign of surrender.
"Please, serah," the boy pleaded, "I can't swim. I only stole your coin to feed my sister, I'll give it right back!"
"I'll take my coin," the dwarf growled, "And your bleeding hand, too! That will teach you to steal from Bowen!"
"Serah," Alessia called from behind the dwarf, walking toward him "surely you can spare the boy? Taking his hand will only worsen his plight. Andraste teaches—"
"I don't give a nug's ass about sodding Andraste," the dwarf turned to look at the newcomer, blue eyes bulging, "If you hadn't noticed, I'm a dwarf, and so the words of Andraste are a bit meaningless to me. But I'll be a blighters uncle before I let this dirty knife ear get away with robbery!"
Alessia felt Ainion stiffen at her side. There was only so many times he could hear that word without drawing a weapon. Alessia agreed.
Before the dwarf could blink or offer another "sodding" comment, Alessia held a knife at his throat. "Perhaps," she said silkily, "we could reach an agreement. You let the boy go and in exchange I won't open your throat all over this dock. Agreed?"
The dwarf gave one huff and turned around to leave, muttering something that sounded like, "Sodding Orlesian bitch, Guard-Captain Brennan will hear of this…"
Alessia frowned at that. More the Orlesian part than the Guard-Captain part—although that might mean trouble too. She really needed to work on her Fereldan accent. That was her story, a Fereldan, disenchanted by Andraste and the Maker because she lost her family during the Blight and was never able to recover.
The elven boy looked at both Ainon and herself and quickly scampered away. "Well, a thank you would have been nice," Alessia commented on his lightning-fast departure.
"He didn't want to wait around and hear that we expect compensation," Ainion stated harshly, "I know, I've been is his shoes before. The dwarf surprised me, though."
"Oh, in your experience, dwarves aren't concerned with money?"
"Ha, ha," Ainion replied drolly to her sarcasm, "No, usually they're not so quick to yell out racist remarks, especially when dwarves are at the receiving end of a lot of similar comments."
About a half hour later, Davis and his twin Loris approached them. It was Loris, and not his talkative counterpart, who spoke this time, "Hey, who did you piss off? Some city guards are coming to investigate attempted murder!"
"That quickly?" Alessia answered, surprised.
"Yeah, ever since the Templar's were virtually wiped out, the guards are pretty vigilant, especially at the docks. Don't worry though, Captain Martin says we'll be on our way in a few minutes. He had to drop off a case of…product before we could shove off."
"Lyrium?" Ainion asked with a glare.
"Oh, no, Martin doesn't have the connections for that," Davis chimed in, "It's just regular poison, a Crow recipe I believe."
Alessia saw an old, droopy man meander toward the ship. Certainly this wasn't Martin?
"Ahh," Loris greeted the man, grasping his hand in the style of a Ferelden, "If it isn't our fearless Captain! Ready to set sail?"
The man grunted and boarded the ship without looking at Alessia or Ainion.
"I suppose that's a yes," quipped Ainion.
"Is that man capable of sailing this ship?" Alessia asked the twins. "He looks like his afternoons should be spent in a rocking chair, not steering a ship."
"Oh, he's feistier than he looks," Davis said, winking. Alessia didn't want to know.
"By the way," Loris said, nodding toward the dagger and sword at Alessia's hip, "Qunari don't let their women handle weapons. You need to find a hiding place for that or get rid of it."
Alessia's eyes widened, shocked. Who was she, Ser Aveline? Well, she would hide the dagger and sword well. There was no way she would leave herself unprotected, even with Ainion's promise to stay by her side and protect her. He was only a squire! Not a full chevalier, like herself.
Alessia looked up from her sword to the three men standing before her, sapphire eyes flashing, "Don't worry, I'll fit in with the rest of the Qunari women. I'll learn to sew or basket-weave or whatever it is that they do."
The twins nodded and boarded Isabella. Ainion gave her a concerned look and followed. Alessia tugged at her red-gold hair, a nervous tick, and walked toward her destiny.
Thank the Qun that Ainion found his sea legs, Alessia thought, practicing what she imagined would be a good qunari curse. A full two days of puking—while Alessia played nursemaid—and she wasn't sure Ainion would make it to Par Vollen. Luckily the waters calmed and Ainion's stomach must have adapted because of the third day he was his normal self—if a bit ravenous for food and drink. Alessia looked down at the Orlesian text she was perusing. It was written by an Orlesian who converted and discussed the beliefs of the Qun. Apparently the Qun was the Qunari's law, way of life, and religion. The more she read, the more she could understand the appeal—although she did see some flaws. Family units were all but non-existent and virtually all punishment was fatal. But she did envy the certainty and simplicity that the Qun preached. Alessia always loved languages, she was fluent in Fereldan and several dialects of Antivan. Luckily, Davis had some dealings with the Qunari in the past, so he taught her how to say certain words.
"Shanedan," Alessia muttered, practicing her pronunciation as she read about the Triumvirate at the small table in the galley.
"Shanedan Alessia," Ainion chimed in, between bites of stew and bread, "That means hello, right?"
Alessia looked up and smiled. Ainion had no love for Val Royeaux, so it was easier for him to leave. Although part of Alessia enjoyed the freedom as well, if she was going to be perfectly honest with herself. And with all the lies that she was going to be saying soon, she needed to be honest with herself.
"Yes," Alessia replied, "The book says it literally means, 'I will hear you.'"
Loris sat next Alessia, his bowl of stew sloshing a bit and joined the conversation, "Expect to hear the word 'bas' a lot. It means foreigner. Or shit. I think it means both for the Qunari. We'll know we're home free once they call us viddithari, which means new convert."
Alessia frowned, "What exactly did you and your brother do that was so terrible you need to escape to Par Vollen?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Alessia," Loris said, eyes narrowing, "But, I'm not the prying sort. That's Davis. We had sex with Lord and Lady Desmarais and unfortunately his lordship didn't survive the experience."
"What?" Alessia squawked, and Ainion raised a blond eyebrow
"Well," Loris elaborated, "It actually wasn't a contract. Purely for fun. But, Lord Desmarais fell out of bed and broke his neck during an…unusual maneuver. Lady Desmarais didn't think anyone would believe it was an accident and she was worried about the scandal, of course, so she laid the blame at our feet. We, as bards, were a natural choice."
"Surely you could have reasoned with the courts of Val Royeaux?" Alessia queried.
"Well," Loris continued, "We had run-ins with the law before this, and Davis and I decided not to wait around and see if they felt like giving us the benefit of the doubt."
Loris looked at Alessia, expecting her to tell her story. Alessia's eyes returned to her tome. Ainion silently ate his dinner.
Boom. Boom-Boom.
Alessia groggily stumbled out of her bed, donning trousers and a shirt. Barefoot, but with a sword in hand, she ran up to the top deck to see what was going on.
"Qunari dreadnought, dead ahead!" Captain Martin shouted. Funny it was the longest string of words she had heard the sailor say this entire month.
"Quick," Davis shouted, "Raise the white flag!"
"Will they be able to see it?" Alessia shouted over the booms, "It's the dead of night!"
Without answering Loris got to raising the flag. Shockingly enough, in less than ten minutes the dreadnought had stopped firing. In another half hour, it had pulled alongside the Isabella.
Alessia swallowed hard as she saw her first qunari. A very large male, with a very large ax. Behind him were several more qunari with bows. She was surprised at the golden hue to their skin. It was almost…lovely.
"Why are you here, bas?" the ax-wielder asked.
"We have come to seek the wisdom of the Qun in Par Vollen," Davis stated clearly.
"Just them," Captain Martin said quickly, gesturing to the twins, Alessia and Ainion, "Me, my crew, and my ship are going back to Kirkwall."
The qunari studied each and every one of them before saying, "You four may come, but I do not promise anything. It is not my place to decide who will be allowed the wisdom of the Qun. Your belongings will be searched."
"You'll take our weapons, then?" Ainion asked before Alessia could quiet him.
The qunari began to laugh, a very creepy sound indeed, "If you can best a qunari with your pitiful weapons and your pathetic skill, then we deserve to die. You may keep your weapons. You have one hour to gather your belongings and transport them to our ship."
Alessia caught Ainion's eye and gestured him to follow her. This could quite possibly be the last time they could speak in private. She led him below deck to her quarters sighed and turned around to face him.
"Ainion," she began, "This is the time to turn around. Go back with Martin, go back to Orlais, or to any city where you can be free. I've been reading about the Qunari and their lives are about duty. You won't be free."
Ainion crossed his arms and scowled down at her and Alessia's heart sank. She knew that look, and her squire would not be moved from his decision.
"Alessia, this conversation is foolish."
"I suppose your right," Alessia said, resignation ringing in her voice, "But, Ainion you must promise me to do whatever you can to fit in with the qunari. This may mean a lot of lying…perhaps even killing."
"I will do whatever I have to do to keep you safe…my lady."
Alessia noticed an emotion she'd never seen before brighten Ainion's eyes for a moment and then it was gone. Strange, she thought.
"Well, let us pack and try to act like we're…looking forward to learning the 'wisdom of the Qun.'"
"Indeed," Ainion said, nodding, "I will meet you above deck once you have gathered your belongings."
Ainion left her to her own devices and Alessia pulled out some armor she had "acquired" along the long trek. It wasn't the quality she was used to in Orlais, but it would do. She would be damned if she was going to face those massive, golden men unarmed. Luckily she had learned how to travel light and packed her satchel rather quickly. Without a backwards look at the hovel she had called "her room" Alessia went above deck to formally greet the qunari.
When she emerged on the top deck, Alessia was surprised to see the qunari—the one who had spoken to them, apparently the leader—towering over Captain Martin. Surprisingly, they were haggling.
"You ask too much, bas," the qunari growled, "the Kithshok will have to decide whether or not you are worthy of such an agreement."
"Well, can I arrange a meeting?" Martin replied, "It's not like it's easy to get up here."
"If the Kithshok is interested, he will meet you here in three days time."
With that, the qunari turned toward the twins and Ainion, who were already assembled on deck. Alessia quickly joined them.
"Right now, you are unworthy bas," the qunari said, "Soon you will meet with Arishok and he will decide if you are worthy of Par Vollen and the Qun."
"And what should we call you?" Alessia asked.
"I am Sten of the Beresaad."
Alessia's eyebrow shot up, "The qunari who accompanied the Hero of Fereldan?"
The qunari simply scowled, "There are many Sten of the Beresaad."
"Remember," Loris said quietly, "their names are actually their job titles. He is a leader of a military group."
Alessia glanced toward Loris and nodded, to the Sten she said, "I am Alessia, and this is my…companion Ainion. These two are the brothers Loris and Davis."
The qunari simply grunted at this a gestured for them to board his ship. She needed to get used to non-verbal commands, it would seem.
"My brother," the qunari gestured toward one of the bowman, "will take you to your cabins and will search your belongings."
"Of course," Alessia said, and began to walk toward the other man.
"I am curious," Sten began, "Are you the leader of this group? You are the one who speaks and they seem to follow. Also, why does a woman carry a weapon?"
So soon? Would they demand that she give up her sword?
"I am a knight in my homeland," Alessia replied, "And Ainion was what we call my squire or apprentice. I suppose I am used to giving orders and taking charge."
Sten and the group of surrounding qunari began to laugh, "Who would want to learn their fighting skills from a female? No wonder your kind is so weak."
Ainion glance at Alessia and did not like the expression that played on her face. His hand went to the striker at his side.
"Is that a challenge Sten?" Alessia asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.
"You could not battle me, woman, you are not worthy."
"Tell me," Alessia began, "Since you are the Sten, do you occupy the captain's suite?"
Sten frowned, confused, "Yes."
"Well," Alessia continued, "I bet I can have you on the floor with knife to throat in…let's say five moves."
Alessia's challenge gained a few more laughs, before the Sten answered, "I accept this challenge, and you will give up your sword and dagger when you fail. It is not natural for a woman to have such things."
Without preamble, Alessia attacked, "One. Two. Three…and Four." The Sten laid prone before her, her dagger pressing into his neck. "Well, Sten, I guess I overestimated your ability—only four moves. Where exactly is the captain's suite?"
Sten's nostrils flared in anger, "I acknowledge your worthiness, Basalit-an."
Later that night, Alessia was staring into the fire, enjoying the large suite. It sure beat Martin's accommodations. She jumped at the knock of the door, quickly grabbing her dagger. With a sigh, Alessia cracked open the door to see a surly elf before her.
"What do you think you're dong, Alessia?"
"Well, hello, Ainion, how are accommodations below deck?"
"How are we supposed to blend in with the qunari when you insult the first one you meet and draw a weapon on him?" Ainion bit out the last few words, pushed past her given us into the room and went to warm himself by the roaring fire.
"Qunari respect strength," Alessia replied calmly, "In fact, I may have increased our chance of acceptance. You didn't read that book I gave you, did you?"
Ainion avoided her eyes. He hadn't learned how to read until he became her squire—she made sure he had the best tutors then—but he still had no love for the pastime.
Ainion finally met her gaze and gave her one of his more practiced scowls, "I do know that they do not believe women should fight. And swordplay comes to you as easily as breathing—do you really think you'll be able to stop? And…and I've heard of how the qunari indoctrinate their initiates. I won't be around for most of the time. I won't be able to protect you, Alessia. How will I know that you'll be safe?"
"Ohh, Ainion, I didn't know you cared so much," Alessia teased gently, and then her smile slipped as she saw the real worry in his eyes, as well as an emotion that went beyond friendly concern. "Ainion, there is certainty in the Qun. Although their laws are foreign to us, they work in such a way that will prevent anyone from harming me unless I blatantly go against their laws. The same will be true for you, so I suggest you study up. I'm not sure how much leeway they'll give, even to a viddithari."
Ainion stepped forward toward her, only to falter. After a slight bow he turned toward the door, "I'll leave you to your hard-won captain's suite, my lady."
"Ainion, wait," she said, grasping his bicep.
He spun around and grabbed both of her shoulders, an ache so prominent in his eyes that it scared her, "You don't understand, my lady. You still think of me as a boy, a little brother. And, and…this is perhaps how it should be."
The light that burned in his green eyes dimmed as he looked away from her. Alessia would be truthful to herself, as she now strives to be, she had known that this was coming, but she had desperately tried to ignore his growing affections, hoping that Ainion would find a woman who could return his feelings. Now, because of her, this probably would never happen. Qunari did not mate for love, but for breeding purposes. They didn't even choose their own mates. Perhaps…yes, she could do this for him. But, she would be honest.
"Ainion," she whispered, touching his chin and forcing his eyes to meet hers. "I cannot return your feelings. The heart wants what the heart wants. But…I can offer physical comfort."
With that said, her hands slid down his tanned arms, pulling his shirt slowly up. With an uncertain frown, he stayed her hands.
"Do you…I mean, are you certain? I will have you in any way I can, if only a small part of you, for a moment. But I don't want you to regret this."
"Ainion, I do love you. Not in the way that you want, but I do want to do this. You've consigned your fate to my whims and needs and if I can return the favor even in the smallest of ways, I will do it. But, I want to be honest. It cannot go beyond this."
With strangled growl he reached for her. His mouth smashed against hers with such pure hunger that she lost her breath. With each step he maneuvered her toward the large bed until she was perched on the very edge. His mouth trailed down to her chin, neck, chest, until he was on his knees.
Looking up at her, he grabbed her hands roughly, "This is where I belong, on my knees, worshipping you."
He gently pulled her trousers down, spreading her legs. Ainion worked his way up her thigh, his tongue leaving a path of fire that made ache and pulsate with anticipation. Finally he came to the apex of her legs.
"Oh, sweet Maker, I need to taste you," he mumbled against her crevice, just before his tongue circled around her Andraste's pearl.
She was an Orlesian girl, no stranger to lovemaking. But, this was different. She had known Ainion for such a long time, and she suddenly realized that the sexual tension that had been there for a few years now was finally finding some sort of release. And, Maker help her, but the perversity of it excited her. He was so willing to serve her on all levels and for a moment she reveled in it with wicked satisfaction. When his finger found her entrance, in concert with his depraved tongue she gasped and arched forward.
"You're so wet and so sweet, my lady," Ainion whispered against her tender flesh, "Just like how I knew you'd be. I've ached for you for so long. Tried to find substitutes, but no woman could replace you."
Obviously these substitutes had taught him well, she thought weakly, feeling her own release upon her.
Her moans came more quickly now and Ainion knew she was close to finding her pleasure. He wanted this to be perfect for her. This is what she deserved. He worked a second finger into her, himself shaking with need at discovering how tight she was. He wanted nothing more to bury himself inside her, but he didn't want to cause her pain. Andraste give him strength, he would be careful so as not to hurt her.
"Ainion!" she cried, roughly grabbing his hair as she arched into his intimate kiss, "Yes, right there, Oh Maker, yes!"
She road his hand with abandon now, her body clenching against him as she found release. She fell back against the bed with a sigh. While she rested Ainion quickly disrobed. His boots first, pants and then the shirt that she tried to take from him earlier. Amusingly enough, Alessia still had her shirt on. He would soon change that. He smiled at the buttoned down shirt that she wore.
She looked down, surprised to see a now nude Ainion taking unbuttoning her shirt with his tongue. The elf certainly had mouth of many skills, and a body to match. His impossibly tanned body rippled with muscles. His biceps bulged as his large hands supported him as he hovered over her. His nipples were the perfect dark pink color and his stomach was hard and well-defined. His cock, well, was a bit big for her comfort. His member was not only long but dangerously, deliciously thick. She gazed at his face and gently ran her hands through his hair, and he quickly looked up. His eyes were dark with passion as he quickly reached for the last button. She ran her hands over his ears, memorizing the texture and shape. She was taken aback by his sudden gasp.
"Are elven ears…I mean, that feels good?"
"Yes," he bit out, covering her hands with his own and showing her exactly how he liked to be stroked. In a little while, he was gasping her name. She hesitated briefly—it excited her to find a hot spot that was unique to him—and then removed her hands from his ears. His moans turned to one of disappointment, but she had other plans for him.
Alessia sat up and pushed at his chest. "Lay down."
He complied, watching her warily. She started with a gentle kiss, which he quickly deepened, his tongue searching her mouth like it held the fountain of youth. Her mouth slid to his neck, enjoying the low vibrations against her lips as he moaned her name. Her true name. She shushed him quickly.
"My name is Alessia," she said sharply looking into his eyes, straddling his stomach, just above is cock. He gave her a tortured nod, and she lightly bit his left nipple. His hips rose so abruptly that she almost fell off of him. She quickly steadied herself and pushed firmly down on his shoulders.
"Ainion, you are not to move," she said in her most authoritarian voice, "you're to lay here and accept what I give you. You are not allowed to touch me unless I tell you and you are not allowed to come. In fact, grab this headboard and do not let go until I say so."
Reaching around her she found his cock. Rock hard. Yes, she knew this type of sex play is what he wanted as soon as he got on his knees. He wanted her to totally dominate him and she was happy to oblige. She left a trail of butterfly kisses down to his navel and then moved between his legs. She kissed up his thigh, and felt his body tremble with anticipation. She smiled. Poor Ainion. Such sweet suffering. She moved to his other thigh and repeated the process until he was panting, his engorged member straining for her touch.
"Please…pl…please, Alessia," he gasped, his knuckles white as he held onto the headboard for dear life.
"What do you want?" she said in a mock innocent voice.
He looked at her savagely, as sweat ran down his brow, "You know what I want."
"If you want it that bad, you're going to have to ask me. Nicely."
"Please, Alessia. Please put my cock in your mouth. Or ride me with your sweet pussy."
"Oh, I'll do both…eventually."
With that, her mouth covered the head of his cock. Sucking just a bit of him in.
"Oh, sweet Maker!" he shouted, trying desperately to control the rise of his hips.
"Do you want more?" she asked silkily
"Yes, my lady. Please take more of me in your mouth."
He was pretty big for her to do this, but she tried her best. Opening her throat, she sucked him all the way in. She slowly came up and released his member. Ainion was not the only one with the talented tongue, she thought. She licked his cock up and down and he gave into short, deep moans. She sucked the underside of his dick before moving to his balls. When his hands finally buried into her hair she knew she had broken his control. Gently, but firmly she removed his hands.
"Ainion, you wanna fuck me bad, don't you?" she whispered hoarsely, already knowing the answer. Alessia moved next to him, getting on all fours.
"You're going to take me like this first. I want you deep inside me, but don't come without permission."
Ainion, however, was done with games. He quickly turned her over onto her back and put himself between her legs.
Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, "I am going to fuck you hard, but first I want to lick those honey tits of yours, baby."
True to his promise he moved down to her chest. Although a knight, no one ever thought of Alessia as masculine. Her chest was overly large and usually the first thing men noticed about her—when she was out of the boob squashing armor, that is. Ainion licked her nipples till they stood at attention. Returning tease for tease, he put the tip of his cock at her entrance, teasing her lips.
"Now, you better not move your hips or I won't be happy. I'll have to punish you."
Alessia widened her blue eyes and nodded silently. She'd been teased like this before and knew that he was torturing himself as well. He sucked and bit at her breasts, which was an unfortunate combination for Alessia. Her juices must be running down her thighs by now. She needed him inside her.
"Please, Ainion," she whispered into his ears, grabbing them in the process.
Between gritted teeth he whispered, "Your desire is my command"
Their bodies were joined. Ainoin did not move, allowing Alessia's body to stretch and accommodate his invasion.
When she started to moan and arch her body, he began to fuck.
"Maker, your tight," he said moaned, "and so wet."
She pulled him toward her, kissing him and pushing her tongue into his mouth. They were fully merging, as close as they could possibly be. He continued to kiss her and fuck her slowly, but deeply. The pace was much too slow for Alessia's liking, so she dropped her hands to his buttocks, urging his hips forward at a faster pace.
Ainion, pushed by Alessia, found himself pistoning in and out of her at an alarming speed. He would not last long like this, especially when he felt her squeeze against him, milking his cock for seed. He pulled out quickly before losing himself, and positioned her back to the position that she had originally wanted, her hands and knees.
He put a knee between her thighs, wedging them apart to make room for himself. She looked back to him, reddish-brown hair tousled and heated passion in her eyes. This was going to be so erotic. Almost painfully so, he acknowledged.
He eased himself inside of her, surprised at how slick she still was. "I'm going to take you from behind, Alessia. Like an animal. Hold onto the head board. That's it. Spread your legs wide so I can fuck you deeper. Yeah, that's it."
This position made Ainion feel so powerful, like she was at the mercy of his fucking. Which was odd, because he figured that the missionary position was like that in reality. He closed his eyes. Oh, yeah, so deep in this position. Quickly deciding the headboard was not a good idea, he grabbed both of her arms, holding them like reins as her tits bounced with every thrust he gave her. Reading his cues, she wrapped her thighs around his waist tightly. He was the only thing keeping her from falling on her face and the only thing she could do was accept his him as he fucked her senseless. In and out, Ainion's cock gave her no quarter. She was at his mercy, there to be fucked by him, for his pleasure. Well…she supposed that her pleasure was not received sufficient amount of attention.
Alessia knew he was close when she felt the head of his cock expand inside her, filling with seed. Just then he leaned back, moving his hands from her arms to her breasts. She let go of his waist and now her knees covered his own, her back flush to his chest. While she had been incredibly close to coming for the second time, it was this position that pushed her over the edge. She let out a small cry, and Ainion felt her come around his cock. She pulsated with pleasure, and he reacted by fucking her faster and harder, determined to join her. His deep cries joined her more feminine ones as he exploded inside her.
"Oh, sweet Maker! I love you, Alessia" he gasped into her ear as Ainion came.
They both fell to the bed, exhausted. Alessia faced the door of the cabin, while Ainion faced her back. He was still inside of her and was reticent to pull out. He was pretty sure this would not happen again and did not want it to end.
"Can I…can I stay the night?" he whispered into her ear.
"Ainion…that's probably not a good idea. I'm sorry."
He pulled away from her then, rolling on his back. "Of course, that is probably what is best."
Ainion swung his legs off the bed and sat there for a long minute, head in his hand. Suddenly he felt her behind him, rubbing her chest against his back.
"I forgot. I promised to ride you. I shouldn't break a promise, now should I?"
He did not answer or move. Unsure if this was best, he waited for her to continue.
"I need you, Ainion. Please. I want you inside of me again."
Shockingly, his cock twitched to life. She was his duty, but it was quickly becoming obvious that she would become his addiction as well.
(Chapter 2 is in the works, please review with helpful criticism/praise )