Original prompt from the Dragon Age Kink Meme (anonymous prompter):
F!Hawke is secretly deadly afraid of storms. Isabela, being a ship captain and thus used to them, helps F!Hawke trough the night when a particularly bad one hits Kirkwall.
The Eye of the Storm
Prologue - Limericks:
When I'm sleeping in Marian's room,
the position I like to assume
is to lie with my nose
near her sweet Blooming Rose,
so that I may enjoy its perfume.
Her long leather boots both unlaced,
Isabela was nude from the waist.
I smiled as I dove
towards her dark pirate's cove,
and then treated myself to a taste.
For a moment, she dreamt she was at sea again. It was the cold wind that had awoken her; the mighty thunder and the rain pouring through the far window did not make an impression until moments later. The latch of the furthest shutter had been blown open by the storm, the lone candle toppled from its table by the wind. Except for the occasional flare of lightning, it was utterly dark.
Marian was gone, her side of the bed empty. The cold sheets held only an imprint of her sleeping form.
She smiled, as the sound of the rain reminded her of their long day together. After shopping in Hightown, they had raced home over slick cobblestones as the first drops of the downpour dotted their clothes. Once inside, they warmed each other by the fireplace.
It had been the beginning of an excellent evening together.
Yawning, she waited at the edge of the bed for the lightning to uncover her surroundings, before heading to the dresser to find a robe. As she stepped through the darkness, her breasts bobbed loosely under the cloud of her hair.
Another flash illuminated the pile of their clothes on the floor. Her long leather boots lay on top, the very last item to be shed.
When she rediscovered the empty wine glasses and the Orlesian vintage upon Marian's desk, her headache came creeping back, bidden by memory. She picked up the bottle and sucked at its last drops.
She left the bedroom, and found Marian downstairs, pacing nervously by the smoldering hearth. The Fereldan's arms were folded against the chill, clutching her own robe tightly around her breasts. The dark bob of her hair was still rumpled from sleep
"Marian, dear... what's wrong?"
The other woman smiled wanly. Her eyes were red, her cheeks moist with tears.
"Oh... I couldn't sleep..." There was a crack of thunder, and the anxious woman flinched.
She descended the stairs and approached Marian cautiously.
"... love... talk to me. What's bothering you?"
It was disconcerting to see her like this, upset and agitated, shivering in a robe by the fire. The Hero of Kirkwall, the indomitable woman she had fallen in love with, had become a shy farm girl once again.
Tentatively, Marian spoke, her words accompanied by the rumbling of thunder.
"Isabela, I'm... oh this is silly... I'm scared of thunder. And lightning."
"Alright..." Intrigued, Isabela tried to reassure her. "Go on."
"Well, you see, back in Lothering, the sky was so much bigger. There weren't any giant buildings like you have here. The clouds were different, too... you could see them move, and then change, over the course of the day. Before a storm, they would always look so dark, and angry.
One afternoon, as a little girl, I got lost outside in the woods during a summer storm. I saw lightning strike a tree, perhaps two or three hundred paces from me... it was like looking upon the angry face of the Maker Himself. And I've been horribly terrified of thunderstorms ever since."
A bright flash of lightning punctuated the end of Marian's recollection, and she shut her eyes for a second.
Isabela couldn't believe what she was hearing. After all of the beasts and villains, demons and abominations that she had seen Marian fight so bravely against... now the poor woman was cowering before rough weather?
Perhaps it made sense. Months before, while they were journeying leagues beneath Thedas upon the Deep Roads, it was exactly the opposite; Marian had been the confident and fearless leader, Isabela the quivering mess who needed consoling.
"Bethany, and Carver... did you ever talk to them about this?"
"They never knew. I would cry into my pillow on those nights."
Isabela frowned. She looked at Marian squarely.
"Why didn't you wake me up? I was sleeping right next to you!"
Marian was silent. Damn it, Isabela cursed to herself. Why do you have to be so bloody proud, sometimes?
She stepped forward, placing her hands on Marian's shoulders.
"My love... it's alright to need reassurance, once in a while. Even when you're the famed Champion of Kirkwall", she teased.
Marian dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe, speaking in between sobs. "It's just... humiliating, to lose control like this. So damned silly..."
Isabela kissed her wet cheeks. "Marian, you saved my life. You bested the Arishok in single combat for my unworthy sake. I can never, ever, ever hope to pay you back... but I'd like to try, a little bit here and there, if you'd only give me a bloody chance."
She continued softly, her forehead now upon Marian's.
"You were the one who once taught me to stop running, remember?" The Fereldan blushed, and offered a brave smile as Isabela took her hand. "Now, let's go back to bed. I'll show you how we handle this kind of weather at sea".
The women went back to the bedroom, each with an arm tightly around the other.
"First, we batten down the hatches."
Isabela moved through the room as the lightning lit her way, closing the door and latching all of the shutters. She then loosed the drapes and let them fall over the slats.
Even through the curtains, the increasing flashes of light made Marian wince; the storm was definitely approaching the city. Isabela retrieved and then relit the fallen candle with a flint from the desk, hoping that at least its meager glow might cancel out a fraction of each lightning strike.
"Then, we lash ourselves to something relatively immobile, like a mast." She led Marian to the bed and planted her there with a kiss, before climbing in herself and drawing the blanket over their legs. "Or failing that, another sailor."
There was a dreadful clap of thunder, and Marian clung to her tightly. The mansion seemed to shake from the intensity of its volume.
"... and... w-what if all that doesn't work?"
Blast it, Isabela thought. Marian was still petrified with fear. The situation required a drastic solution. She caressed the other woman's cheek, drying it with her hand.
"Well then, we simply head below decks." She winked, and dove beneath the covers.
Isabela descended upon Marian's thighs, kissing them insistently, until they parted. She trailed her nose and lips over onto the other woman's neatly trimmed mound, and then into the dampened folds just beneath, inhaling audibly from the warm cleft, savoring the intensity of its musk.
Above the blanket, Marian moaned in response as she stretched upon the sheets, slipping out of her thin robe. She ran her fingers through Isabela's thick raven hair, her palms firmly upon the other woman's temples and cheeks.
"Oh... Isabela... love... Her voice trailed off into the thunder.
The ensuing gush of moisture echoed the rain that was now puddling beneath the windows. Isabela swept slowly across Marian's entrance with her tongue, pressing firmly, trying to gather as much taste as she could with each pass.
In the midst of her efforts, Isabela marveled at how curious it was, that a single muscle upon a tiny nub of flesh could exert such complete command over a woman; in the same manner, a taut rope, pulling upon a single sail, could alter the speed and course of a galleon.
Marian pulled gently upon Isabela's hair, and then threw back the blanket. The lightning struck again, glinting in the perspiration upon her skin as she sat up.
"I think... I finally understand, now," she panted breathlessly, her eyes wild. "May I join you, below decks… Captain?"
The Fereldan drew the covers completely over them both, and then kissed Isabela upon her face and neck, giggling joyously in the darkness. She snaked her hands inside the Rivaini's robe and cupped her swollen breasts, nuzzling them, pressing them to her lips. Isabela's desire awakened, and she arched her back and shoulders in pleasure, thrusting stiffened nipples into Marian's face.
"Ohhh... you're learning the ropes quickly, crewman..."
She ran her fingers through Marian's boyish hair, and down onto the fair skin of her face, cradling it gently with her hands. The blanket fell off again, and they kissed hungrily, their tongues coiling against and around each other. Isabela's touch continued downward, finding at last the soft flesh of Marian's breasts. The woman's taut nipples bloomed like roses against her alabaster skin.
At last Marian pushed Isabela down upon the bed, all fear of the storm finally vanquished. She tore open Isabela's robe, straddling her, raining kisses down upon her dusky face from above. Pinning her playfully at the wrists, Marian twisted her own hips fiercely, as if trying to force herself into the other woman. Her small, shapely breasts swayed with her as she moved.
"Your crew would like to thank you, dear Captain, for piloting us to a safe harbor."
Then, Marian reversed upon the sheets, leaning towards Isabela's orifice, while offering her own in return.
"Now, what was that maneuver, that you performed just now? Let's see if I've learned it correctly..."
With her tongue, Marian traced a languorous route across the slope of Isabela's mound, and then over the delicate slickness of her lips, before ending in a circle around her hood. "Like that?"
The lovely sensation spread like fire through Isabela's core, and she had to catch her breath before forming a reply.
"mmm... close." Supine beneath her, Isabela drew a slightly different pattern upon Marian from below.
They took turns licking, and being licked, trading salvoes of touch back and forth, one woman imitating and then trying to outdo the other. Isabela grasped Marian's bottom and held the woman to her face, lapping as the wetness seeped down over her chin. Beckoning with her tongue, she led Marian higher and higher, guiding her lover to a mighty climax.
"Oh, Maker! Oh... Isabela... " Marian had ceased her own tonguing once it was clear that she would be allowed to come first. Clutching at Isabela's muscled thighs, she gasped to regain her breath, and then, once recovered, immediately set about returning her lover's favor.
At the height of pleasure, they answered the thunder with their own impassioned voices, while lightning continued to break angrily upon the curtained windows.
The storm had exhausted itself, and the women lay entwined, at last sated, cooled by sweat. Their breathing was the only sound now, a duet of heartbeats the only rumble they could feel.
The far shutter's failing latch blew open once again, and a gust of wind blew out the candle.
Fin.