An Act of Charity

Isabela made a point of spending time at the Pearl whenever she was in Denerim. She liked the place, although she rarely availed herself of their more exotic services. Mostly, she just came here for a drink and a game of cards, and maybe a chance to meet someone to spend the rest of the night with.

Tonight, though, her usual luck seemed to have deserted her. The three thugs at her card table were only interested in stripping her of her money, nothing else. Not that they stood a chance. Isabela considered herself an expert in the finer points of Diamondback, and she never lost a game once the stakes were sufficiently high.

Unfortunately her fellow gamblers were too well into their cups to realize it when they started losing. When the sad reality finally hit them, they responded predictably with drunken fury. It got nasty for a moment, and she had to draw her blades on them. She was holding the three of them just barely at bay when help arrived in the form of a small group of travellers who immediately took her side. As soon as the thugs realized they were outnumbered, they made for the door. She let them run. They weren't worth getting out of breath for.

Isabela was grateful for the assistance, though she was pretty sure she could have handled the attackers herself eventually. When she turned to thank her new-found allies, she was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face.

"Zev! What brings you to Denerim?"

She hadn't seen the handsome elven assassin in almost two years, and she had missed him. Ever since they'd first met, back when he had helped her out of a tight situation, they'd been good friends and occasional lovers. He was smiling broadly now, obviously just as happy to see her.

"And who are your friends?" Embracing him, she tried to catch a better look over his shoulder at the group of people behind him.

He was in the company of a rather smelly red-haired dwarf in full armour and two men in fine leathers, both of them with the strong, wide-shouldered build of seasoned warriors. It was the taller of the two, though, who caught her eye, obviously the leader of their small group. She liked his looks: dark hair and eyes, pale skin, very well-groomed, with a fine, aristocratic face, clean-shaven but for a small moustache. He had the proper bearing as well, a commanding, assured presence that could only be acquired through a life of privilege. Whoever he was, he was accustomed to telling people what to do. In contrast, the other man seemed shy, almost bashful, visibly uncomfortable in this setting.

"Let me introduce you. You see, I'm travelling with the Grey Wardens now. My friends, meet Isabela, Queen of the Eastern Seas." Zevran sounded almost too glib, she thought. Not quite friends, are they?

The dark-haired man smiled at her as he bowed over her hand, not bothering to hide his appreciative glance at her curves. "Percival Cousland at your service, milady, and these are my companions, Alistair and Oghren."

Isabela beamed back at him. "A pleasure to meet you. What do you say to a game of Diamondback? Such a good way to get to know each other better."

Percival readily agreed, and soon they were settled around her table, enjoying a glass of heavy, dark Nevarran wine. He had ordered for all of them, after a quick consultation with the serving wench, and Isabela had to admit that their drinks were of far better quality than what she was used to getting at the Pearl. She also noticed that he kept watching her while they played, his eyes roving over her ample cleavage, down to her long brown legs, encased in thigh-high black boots. The next time he sneaked a look she was ready for him and met his gaze, her eyes dark and promising. He swallowed hard, then, and she knew she had him.

Suddenly Zevran's fist hit the table hard. "That's it. Enough, Isabela."

With a lightning-fast movement, the assassin's hand dove between her breasts and produced the two aces she'd hidden there. "Honestly, carissima. Did you really expect me not to notice?" He sounded genuinely offended.

Percival seemed stunned for a moment, but then his head flew back and he laughed out loud, a hearty guffaw that made the table shake. "And what a lovely hiding place too!" His eyes met hers again. "I think we're done playing."

Isabela smiled, stretching voluptuously, displaying her body to best advantage. "True. How about you come back to my ship with me, Percival? I could show you around below decks."

Percival seemed intrigued. "I think I would enjoy that, yes."

"Then we're all set. Come along." Isabela turned to go with a merry laugh.

As they approached the door, Zevran drew her aside. "Are you quite sure you want to do this, cara?"

"What's that?" She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't expect moral scruples from you, of all people."

"It's not that." The assassin made a small moue of distaste. "But...him?"

"Why not?" Isabela smiled a wide, feline smile. "He's handsome, well-spoken, and in good shape. Besides, I've heard a lot about Grey Wardens and their stamina."

Zevran shrugged. "He is all that, yes. He's also arrogant, and, from what I've heard, less than skilled in the arts of love."

"From what you've heard?" Isabela's smile widened. "No firsthand experience? Sounds as if he turned you down, Zev. Are you sure you're not just jealous?"

"Jealous?" It was almost a hiss, and Zevran's eyes narrowed. "No, most certainly not. He's not interested in men, and has made that as plain as he possibly could. That's not why-"

"No matter." Isabela brushed him off with an impatient gesture. "He's young. Of course he's inexperienced. If he's got a thing or two to learn, I'm sure I can deal with it. He'd be the first man to leave my bed without giving me what I need. And I'll be doing the ladies of Ferelden a favour."

The assassin grinned. "Let's wait and see, shall we? Though I don't doubt he will profit from your little...act of charity."


Percival followed the pirate along the docks to her ship, the Siren's Call. An apt name, he had to concede, as he watched her full hips swinging enticingly in front of him. From the moment he'd set eyes on her, he'd been interested. That smooth, dusky skin, those sparkling eyes, her ample breasts, just barely contained by her tight-fitting corset. Percival had always liked his women curvy. He couldn't wait to get her out of her skimpy clothes, to get a handful of her soft, warm flesh.

She flashed a seductive smile at him as they descended to her cabin. For a moment he felt uncertain, recalling Zevran's urgent whispering to her at the brothel. What had the assassin told her? The memory of the incident with Morrigan was still fresh in his mind, even though several months had passed. He wasn't proud of his behaviour back then. No proper gentleman would have talked about the witch like he had, he could see that now. He still flushed with shame and anger when he thought of the way the two of them had humiliated him. They had never spoken of it afterwards, but he knew he would never trust Zevran again. Still, here he was, with one of the most exciting women he'd ever met, and he was determined not to let past misfortunes spoil his fun.

Isabela obviously didn't believe in long-drawn out romantic interludes. As soon as the cabin door closed behind her, she pulled him into a deep, sensual kiss, grinding her body against his. She tasted sweet and heady, like the dark red wine they had sampled, and he quickly got drunk on her lips, kissing her over and over, unwilling to let her go.

She moaned appreciatively and somehow manoeuvred them both over to her large bed, tumbling down onto the sheets and rolling over until she was straddling him. Percival lay back and watched as she slowly untied the strings of her corset and slithered out of her tunic, his excitement growing with every inch of her perfect, golden-brown skin that became visible.

Her breasts were everything he had ever dreamed of, full and round and heavy in his hands, yet firm and perky. Her nipples were dark brown and large, and he latched his lips around them, sucking greedily. His enthusiasm drew a sharp hiss from her.

"Careful!" She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him back a little. "Don't jump right in. They do appreciate a little subtlety, you know."

He stiffened for a moment at her words, but she was laughing again already, and he let her hands guide his movements, making an effort to restrain himself. Softly, he let his tongue play with her pebbled skin, lapping at her, nibbling gently until she herself was pulling him closer, moaning loudly now.

"Yes, now, harder, please..."

He obliged willingly, and she arched high into his mouth with a small cry of pleasure, her eyes closed, her face full of ecstatic joy.

Percival felt a tremor running through his whole body. He had never had a woman respond so passionately to his caresses. Oh, there had been plenty of willing girls, ever since he'd been old enough to care. Usually it had taken little more than casually expressed interest to make them join him in his bed at night. None of them had ever complained, so he had always assumed he was doing it right. At least until Morrigan...

Isabela was different. Vocal, for one thing, unafraid to let him know what pleased her and what didn't. And just as eager as he was. Her hands were busy undoing the fastenings of his leathers now, stripping him bare until she could run her fingers all over his chest and stomach. She hummed happily when his muscles rippled under her touch, and he was proud of his strong body, proud to have elicited such a reaction in her. Then she freed him of his pants, and Percival breathed a sigh of relief.

She didn't slow down, wrapping her hands around him, exploring every inch of his body with a thoroughness that had him gasping. Her naked skin was hot on his, and his patience was rapidly wearing thin.

"Isabela." He realized he sounded almost desperate as he pulled her closer, one finger briefly probing between her legs and finding her wet and ready. "Please." He tried to take hold of her hips, but she pushed him back, catching his wrists with a reproachful look.

"Shhh, my sweet boy, not yet. What's the hurry?" The twinkle in her eyes was even brighter now, and he bit back a curse.

"But you're ready, I can feel it." He could hardly contain his impatience, and she laughed, a soft little laugh.

"Barely ready enough, yes." Her finger trailed along his lower lip, teasing, caressing. "But think of how much more exciting it will be if you make me beg for you."

Percival groaned, but she hadn't let go of his hands, pulling them up to her breasts again now. "Imagine making me so hot that I plead for you to take me." Her voice was hoarse and full of heat, and he trembled all over at her words. "Imagine getting me so worked up I'll agree to anything you want just to have you fuck me hard."

He stifled another groan, rolling over with her so that he could pin her down to the mattress and massage her soft flesh, ignoring his raging desire to have her now. "Then show me. Show me what I need to do to make you beg."

Her laugh was low and triumphant as she pushed his head down between her legs, to her damp curls. "Taste me." Barely a whisper now. "Kiss me, lick me. Find out what pleases me most."

He hesitated only for a second before he did as she asked. His first careful lick was rewarded with a long, happy sigh, and soon he became bolder, experimenting with different degrees of pressure, exploring every nook, every fold. She had taken hold of his head again, guiding him where she wanted him, her fingers clenching in his hair whenever he found a particularly sensitive spot.

To his vast surprise, Percival realized that he was enjoying himself more than he ever had before. To hear her moans, to realize that he was the one taking her to such heights, excited him more than he had thought possible. Yet his own arousal was getting harder and harder to contain, and when she finally did beg him to take her, he slid between her legs with a happy sigh.

"Wait." She pushed him on his back again so that she could be on top, then took hold of him and sank down slowly, so slowly it was the most exquisite torture he'd ever experienced. He tried desperately to buck up into her, to speed things up, but her strong thighs held him down and she kept things at a gentle, almost idle pace that made his whole body tingle. Finally she took him all in, and it was sheer perfection. So hot, so tight, so wet. He closed his eyes and willed himself to lie still with all the discipline he could command.

Isabela smiled down at him, almost fondly. When she began to roll her hips against him, he lost it. With a strangled cry he grabbed her hard and began to thrust, but this time she didn't stop him. This time she pulled him up so he could bury his face between her breasts while his hips jerked violently upwards. He felt her clench around him, hard, and heard her raw, unrestrained scream, only he wasn't sure of what he was feeling or hearing anymore, because his orgasm washed over him with such force that he was literally shaking from it, trembling all over, burning with such delicious heat that it consumed him, made him lose all track of time and place for a moment.

When he opened his eyes again, she was looking down at his face, tenderly brushing a black strand of hair from his sweat-soaked temple. "Well? Worth the effort?"

He blushed briefly, but nodded. "Will you show me more?"

Isabela laughed, a rich, rolling sound that made him shiver with anticipation. "With pleasure, my dear. Let's see if it's true what they say about Grey Wardens. If it is, I promise you will learn a lot more before I'm done with you."


Hugs and thanks to ShebasDawn for another fantastic beta job!

Btw, the "incident with Morrigan" that Percy is thinking about can be found in my story "Sweet Satisfaction".