Chapter 1 - Burning Desire
Loghain couldn't sleep. The nightmares kept coming; the voices in his head wouldn't let him rest. He didn't need the other Wardens to tell him the Archdemon was near. The huge, blighted dragon was calling to him in his sleep, every night. His room felt stuffy and the walls seemed too close. With a curse, he got up and threw on some clothes. He knew the old palace like his own home and didn't need a light to find his way around the maze of corridors.
Aimlessly he walked, his head whirling with questions. Three nights now since his Joining. Two nights since he had lain with the witch, taken part in the ritual that was supposed to save his life, Riordan's life, Morena's life. But would it? Or had he sacrificed his honour for nothing? Would the three of them be enough to vanquish the Archdemon? Would the fate of Ferelden once more rest in his hands?
When Morena Amell had shown up at the Landsmeet, accompanied by Maric's bastard and a ragtag band of misfits, his first impulse had been to dismiss the threat with a mocking laugh. But then her eyes met his, and what he read there made him pause. She was no provincial beauty, out to ruin the country with her ambition - though the ambition was there, plain to see. And she was beautiful, almost incredibly so. A perfect body, slim, yet curvy, smooth dark skin, long raven-black hair. And those eyes! Black and sparkling with passion, they had enchanted him, even then.
When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly deep, and it carried to every corner of the throne room. And she was well prepared. When it became clear that she had outmanoeuvred him, he asked for a duel. She smiled then, and her eyes wandered over his powerful body, assessing him, looking for weaknesses. He was glad he had kept in shape.
At a nod from her, the Antivan assassin came forward to fight him, even though Alistair was chafing at being denied his revenge. It was a good choice. He could have easily taken down Alistair, but Zevran was too fast, too agile for him in the end. He had already resigned himself to dying, when she had invoked the Right of Conscription, thereby creating an uproar. He could still see the expression on Alistair's face, still hear the hurt and betrayal in the young man's voice. But she had remained firm, her face full of a cool disdain that must have hurt more than any amount of fury could have.
Morena. He realized that his feet had carried him to her room. He could see a thin band of light around the doorframe, indicating that she was awake. Loghain was still trying to make up his mind on whether to knock, when the door opened.
He had been meaning to ask her about the ritual, but when he saw her, he completely forgot about it. She was wearing nothing but an old, oversized man's shirt that came down midway to her thighs, and her hair was flowing in loose curls around her face. She looked very young, and the white shirt gave her an air of innocence that touched him even though he knew it to be false.
"Loghain." To his surprise, she seemed pleased to see him. "Couldn't sleep?"
When he nodded, she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. "Me neither. It's very close now."
She walked across the room from him and picked up a wine goblet. "Have some wine. Maybe it will help you sleep."
She took a deep sip herself before handing him the goblet. He took it with a grateful sigh and sank onto a chair. "Will it always be like this?" The question escaped his lips before he could stop himself.
Morena walked over to him and let her finger travel lightly along his jaw, scrutinizing his exhausted face. "No. It's worse during a Blight, they told me. And now, with the Archdemon only a day's march away..." She bit her lip briefly, then she seemed to make up her mind. "But if we want to defeat it, we need to rest, you and me both."
He gasped when she straddled him, arranging her smooth brown legs to either side of him, and bent down to kiss him. Full, red lips, tasting faintly of wine, found his. Loghain swallowed hard. Before he knew it, he was kissing her back, tasting her hungrily.
She smiled and let her hands trail down his body, obviously pleased with his reaction. "I see you are already familiar with another... side effect of being a Warden."
"Maker, yes." His hands tightened around her small waist.
He had been horny as a schoolboy for the last three days. But she seemed just as eager as he was, her lips seeking his again, her small hands tugging impatiently at his shirt. Of course. Alistair had left in a huff, so her bed had been as cold as his own for the past few nights. Loghain realized with startled disgust that the shirt she was wearing must be the bastard's. With a low growl, he grabbed the offending fabric and almost tore it off her body. Morena laughed and threw it into a far corner, leaning back to let him look her over.
For a moment he just stared at her, struck by the perfection of her body. Her breasts were firm, high and round, with dark brown nipples that seemed to be straining for his touch. Carefully, almost reverently, he cupped one of them in his hand, then bent down to let his tongue circle the other one, once, twice, until Morena cried out and arched into him.
"Loghain." Pushing aside his shirt, she let her hands wander down the smooth expanse of his hard chest. He was all cord and muscle, his body that of a much younger man thanks to a lifetime spent riding and fighting. When she reached the laces of his pants, she slid down between his legs, kneeling in front of his chair, and began to untie them.
"Morena, don't-" He tried to hold her back, when she bowed down to let her tongue trail up his shaft, but she just smiled.
"Trust me, Loghain, I know what I'm doing." And she took him in deep, without warning or preparation. Suddenly he could feel nothing but the sweet wet heat of her mouth, the gentle suction of her lips, and he lost control immediately. Wrapping several strands of her long hair around his hand, he held on to her desperately while his hips thrust upwards. A string of curses escaped his lips as he came hard, spilling his seed into her willing mouth, feeling her swallow up all of it with an eagerness that made him shudder.
She heard his frustrated sigh and got up, a wanton smile on her lips. "Come on. This isn't over." She walked backwards to the bed, never taking her eyes off him, her hands playing suggestively with her nipples. "Come."
He didn't need to be asked again. With a rough groan, he shoved her down into the cushions and spread her legs wide. He wanted her open, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. She complied willingly, moaning in ecstasy when his tongue separated her folds, lapping at her, searching for the perfect spot. He knew he'd found it when her fingers tightened on his shoulders and her whole body went taut under him. But he gave her no quarter, continuing mercilessly until she pushed his head away, trying to shove him on his back.
He shook his head and easily held her down. She was so tiny, yet he didn't fool himself for a moment. He had seen her cast spells on the battlefield, and he knew the power that sizzled right under her silky skin. If she really wanted to take control from him, she would. But she seemed to enjoy his firm grasp, the sureness with which he parted her legs to probe her with first one finger, then two. She was more than ready, and so was he, he realized, almost painfully hard once more. Her hips pushed up eagerly against him, but he shook his head again and flipped her over, positioning her on her knees and moving up behind her.
"Yes, now..." she panted, her body vibrating with need, but he held back, teasing her with his hardness until she was mewling helplessly. "Damn it, Loghain, what do you want from me?"
He could hear the frustration and fury in her voice and knew she would make him pay for this later, but for the moment, he felt heady with triumph. "Ask nicely," he growled against her ear.
"I... all right, Loghain, please." She was shaking now, grinding herself back into him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to wait much longer.
"Please what?" He pushed inside her just a little, withdrawing immediately, and making her howl in frustration.
"You insufferable bastard, take me! Oh Maker, please, I-" She sounded frayed now, and he finally gave in, burying himself inside her in a single long thrust.
She whimpered at the feel of him inside her, and the tiny noise sounded sweet to his ears. But the time for games was over now. Grabbing her hips hard, he set a furious pace, pounding into her hot sheath without restraint, taking her with such force that she had to hold on to the bed's headboard for support. Yet she didn't complain, didn't flinch, but relished every second, her upturned face almost feverish with arousal.
He reached around to touch her and she responded eagerly, pushing herself into his hand, rubbing against his fingers. And then he felt her tighten around him, her whole body convulsing in his grip and her mouth opened in a soundless scream that was so beautiful in his complete and utter abandonment that he groaned at the sight of it. He held on to her suddenly boneless body for two or three more thrusts, then he felt his own climax coming, coiling up at the base of his spine and rushing up towards his head, obliterating all conscious thought in a white-hot inferno of pleasure.
The last thing he remembered was tumbling down next to her on the bed, her hand dragging the blanket up to cover him. Then he was blissfully, happily asleep, deep and dreamless, the nightmares forgotten.
When he woke up in the morning, she was up and dressed already. He yawned and stretched, feeling rested and ready to take on the world, for the first time in days.
"Thank you, Morena." He tried to read her face, to find out what this had been to her. It had been so long since he had been with a woman who meant anything more than just a brief diversion.
But her eyes shut him out as effectively as ever. "Thank you, Loghain. Meet me in the throne room in an hour."
He nodded and got up. There would be time to sort this out. Later. Now they had an Archdemon to kill.
Once again, a big thank you to my invaluable beta, zevgirl!