Chapter 1 - The Warden

The warmth of the early afternoon sun on her stomach was making her sleepy. Up here on the battlements of Highever Keep, it was nice and quiet, and the view of the woods and meadows was simply spectacular. Megan stretched voluptuously, displaying her trim, toned body to best advantage. But when she glanced surreptitiously over at Ser Gilmore, he appeared to not even have noticed.

Abruptly she sat up. Habren, her mabari, whined softly, and Megan petted her broad head, suppressing a sigh. Gilmore was such a bore! For weeks now she had done her best to seduce him. Suggestive remarks, pointed looks, radiant smiles, none of it had worked. He seemed completely immune to her charms. Though really she wasn't sure why she bothered. He would probably be just as boring in bed as he was out of it.

In moments like these, she really missed Nathaniel. He had understood her, accepted her, both her sometimes vicious sense of humour and her adventurousness in other areas. He had known immediately why she'd called her puppy Habren. Arl Bryland's daughter. Very fitting. The biggest bitch I've ever met. And Nathaniel would have been all over her by now.

Megan smiled to herself. If things had gone according to plan, they could have been married already. Arl Howe's son would have been a perfectly acceptable match for Teyrn Cousland's only daughter. There had been enough overt flirting in other people's presence that no one would have been surprised to hear of a courtship between them. Of course her parents hadn't had an inkling how far they had actually gone.

But before they could make it official, Nathaniel's father had sent him off to the Free Marches. There had been wild rumours about a big scandal involving a stable boy. Megan doubted they were true, but one could never be sure with Nathaniel... The one thing she could be absolutely certain of was how much he had desired her. Closing her eyes, she relived in memory the last night they had spent together, the heat of his gaze on her skin as she had taken off her clothes for him, the teasing touch of his hands, his lips, his tongue as he made love to her.

"Hey! There's a rider coming along the road!" Ser Gilmore's voice tore her out of her pleasant musings. To her surprise, he actually sounded excited. "That must be Duncan. I'd better get ready to greet him." He jumped to his feet.

"Duncan?" She gazed up lazily at him. "Who is he? And why are you so... glad to see him?"

As usual, her innuendo went right over Gilmore's head. "Duncan! The Grey Warden. Maker, I hope he'll recruit me." Without a second glance at her, Gilmore headed for the stairs.

Megan shook her head in disbelief. Only Gilmore could actually fall for all that shit he'd been told about the Order of the Grey. Honour and sacrifice and whatnot. Cold beds and colder comforts, more likely. Though, come to think of it, at least it would mean getting away from Highever. Her father had that look in his eyes again lately, the one that meant he was on the lookout for a suitable husband for her. And knowing him, suitable probably meant filthy rich, influential and at least forty years older than her.

The rider had reached the gate by now, and she strained her neck trying to get a better look at him as he got off his horse. He wore heavy armour, with a long, straight skirt under it. It looked odd, but not unattractive. When his helmet came off, she just barely suppressed an appreciative whistle. Very nice.

He was dark, much darker than she had expected, with a neatly trimmed full beard, his longish hair tied back with a string. Just then he turned, and his gaze fell fully upon her, one eyebrow rising as he noticed her up on the low guard tower. Dark eyes, full of fire and very expressive. He was no longer young, she could tell that even from the distance, but he looked fit and strong.

Megan felt a familiar tingle spread in her belly. Maybe she should go down to the hall to be properly introduced to the stranger... He was here to talk to her father, to evaluate Ser Gilmore, but maybe she could take a closer look at him, even talk to him a little, see where this could go. Yes. I should definitely meet him.

When she arrived, Habren on her heels, her father and Arl Howe were already deep in conversation with Duncan. He was very polite, yet from the moment she entered the room, she felt his eyes on her, whenever he had an opportunity. Megan smiled, letting her tongue run over her full lips, feeling a spark of pleasure race up her spine when his eyes followed the motion of her tongue. She was still wearing her thin blouse and simple leather pants, and there was a hint of disapproval in her father's expression, but she ignored it with practised ease. She knew she looked good in those clothes, much better than in the prim, proper dresses her mother would pick for her.

Mechanically she played her part in the polite conversation, nodding pleasantly at Arl Howe's transparent attempt to set her up with his younger son, Thomas. I never cared for Tom, you old fool. It's Nate I want and one day I shall have him. Duncan had a pleasant voice, deep and rumbling, and she caught herself listening to its vibrations rather than the actual words he said, at least until he suggested she would make a good Grey Warden. She held her breath, curious of what would happen, but of course the Teyrn turned him down. Can't waste a perfectly good political asset, can you, Father?

She managed to snatch a few words with Duncan alone before she was sent off like a child. He remained cool and aloof, but his eyes spoke a different language, and she couldn't resist testing the waters a little.

When she suggested they could meet in her room later, his eyes widened. "It would be inappropriate for me to be in your quarters unescorted, my lady."

Megan bit back a grin. "Inappropriate, maybe. Impossible, not so much."

Without waiting for his reaction, she turned to go. She could feel his gaze on her back as she sauntered out of the room. Come on, Warden. Admit it. You're sorely tempted.

Duncan exhaled deeply when the door closed behind him, leaving him alone in his room. Conversing with nobles always tired him out. So many rules to observe, so little room for frankness and plain speech. The Teyrn was just about bearable, but Arl Howe... He shook his head in disgust as he took off his armour, piece by piece, and changed into well-worn leather pants and a shirt. And Ser Gilmore had been a disappointment as well. For all his eagerness, the young man was hardly Warden material. Those nobles are so... insipid.

The only exception was the Teyrn's daughter. He smiled at the thought of her. Definitely a firecracker. Bryce Cousland had his work cut out for him if he intended to tame her. Briefly he allowed himself to wonder how serious she had been when she'd asked him to come to her room later. He had watched her discreetly at dinner where she had been seated next to a young man her mother had foisted upon her. Darren, Dairren, something like that. From what Duncan had observed, the boy had made every possible effort to get into her pants, but she had easily held him at a distance.

Judging from the way she had flirted with him earlier, the younger Cousland obviously had some sort of experience with men, likely more than her father realized. And there was no denying she was young and sweet, with a lovely smile and a body that was everything a man could dream about. Beautiful blue-green eyes too, and he'd always liked that particular shade of strawberry blond. Stop it. She's the Teyrn's daughter. No matter how flirtatious she may seem, you'd be wise to keep your distance. But then, wisdom had never been his strongest suit...

He had just settled down in an armchair near the fireplace with a glass of wine, when a tiny noise behind him made him swirl around, reaching for his dagger. When he heard a soft, tinkling laugh, he relaxed a little, recognizing her voice. Megan was standing in a corner, a cheeky smile on her freckled face. She hadn't even flinched at his sudden movement. The nerve on that girl! He couldn't help but admire her for it.

"What are you doing here?" Slowly he got up, keeping his eyes firmly on her.

"You said it was inappropriate for you to come to my room." There was the tiniest hint of a pout playing around her full lips, and he was seized by a sudden urge to kiss it away. "So I figured I'd better come to yours."

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, she walked toward him, stopping right before him and letting her eyes travel up his body until she met his. "I have so many questions about the Wardens. And I'm sure you can enlighten me."

Duncan swallowed. She was so close he could feel her warmth, smell her scent, see her chest rise with each breath under the thin linen of her shirt. "How did you get into my room?"

Her smile widened. "This is my home, Duncan. I know my way around the Keep, always have. I won't tell you, though." Her eyes were blinking mischievously. "You'll find that I'm good at keeping secrets."

His heart beat faster at the implication. "If your father knew you were here-"

"I wasn't planning on telling him." Rising on tiptoes, she placed her hands on his shoulders, bringing her face even closer to his. "I never do."

So it's true. She's definitely not an innocent. And she was lovely. Once more Duncan listed all the reasons why he shouldn't do this in his head. The Teyrn's reaction if he ever found out; the age difference between them; the Taint and all its implications. But then she closed her eyes, sighing softly, and the temptation became more than he could bear.

The tiniest move of his head was enough to make their lips touch, and once the dam was broken, he couldn't resist claiming her mouth, deepening the kiss while his hands wandered up her back, pulling her close. She came into his embrace willingly, her hands palming his ass, then sliding to the front and cupping him through his pants. His hips moved involuntarily into her touch.

"Where did a Teyrn's daughter learn to behave like this?" He bit back a moan as she squeezed him harder. Watching her avidly, he let his hand wander to her chest and circled one pert nipple with his thumb.

"I told you I'm good at keeping secrets." Megan laughed even as her face contorted with lust. "Blight it, Duncan, we are wearing far too many clothes."

He was inclined to agree. Fortunately her shirt came off quickly as soon as she untied the laces. He lifted her up, balancing her precariously on the back of his chair and arranging her slim legs around his waist. His lips latched onto her breasts, and she responded with a greedy whine, her fingers running through his hair and loosening the tie holding it together as she wound strands of it around her hand. Her grip was hard enough to be painful, but it was the good kind of pain and he instinctively sucked harder, grinding himself into her, urgent and hot.

She was trying to push his shirt off his shoulders, when a quick, sharp knock on the door made them start. "Ser Duncan. The Teyrn would like to have another word with you." Ser Gilmore's voice.

For a moment he was sorely tempted to send the young man away, to keep the Teyrn waiting until they were done, but then prudence won over. "I'm coming."

Megan rolled her eyes at him as he pulled back. "Well, I'm not, it seems, at least not tonight. My father will probably keep you up until the small hours."

Duncan bit back a grin, glad she'd kept her voice down. While they hunted for her shirt, he nervously made conversation with Ser Gilmore through the heavy door. Slipping it on, she disappeared into the shadows near the window, blowing him a kiss before she left.

As Duncan followed the young man through the Keep's corridors, he felt euphoric, younger than he had in years. Megan's sweet taste, the eagerness of her response, the promise of more if he stayed on a little longer... that was well worth keeping a straight face in Teyrn Cousland's company. Tomorrow...