Dragon Age Inquisition - The Ride from Adamant: Part 1
Some Loghain and Mahariel romance. Slightly AU for obvious reasons as its set in Inquisition.
Ps. I'm terrible at smut! So this is some practice.
There is some mention of dominance, not too much, but a warning for those who find it uncomfortable.
Also, it's more smut with plot and emotion. AND, and this is an important AND, if you don't like Loghain; don't read please. It's a work of fiction, and I would rather not have a debate about the choice to keep him alive.
That being said; read on!
...
The remains of Adamant stood as a dark and crumbling silhouette against the sunburst dawn upon the horizon.
The mount shifted beneath her as someone neared, boots crunched on sand and stones. The Warden felt his presence through the taint before she caught the flash of griffin armour and midnight locks in contrast with icy blue eyes. Eyes that had entranced her on more than one occasions since their first meeting at Ostagar; whether that be because of their startling colour, or later when she were trying to see more of the man beneath the silver plated armour.
Mahariel had never acted upon her feelings, and she had begun to regret that fact. Life, especially for them, was incredibly short.
He had been willing to sacrifice himself to the fear demon in order to save the inquisitor and Hawke from its clutches. She had not allowed it, as she had not allowed him to take the final blow to the Arch-demon.
It was not because of her confusing feelings for the old general back then, no - it had been her duty as the senior warden at the time to take the final blow. She was also a dalish elf and they would not follow her, she had thought. If Fereldan wanted to rebuild then it needed Loghain's strength, and Anora needed her father.
As for the fear demon, well, she had managed to get there on time. Had run through the fort as her brothers and sisters fell around her. They had chosen to follow bad orders and she could not stop to protect each of them. The rift had opened to allow some of the inquisitors companions out, Mahariel had broke through the way they had came.
No, it was not with duty in mind that she went to save his life this time.
They were both getting older. The taint would be more advanced in her... Mahariel did not want to regret as she did with Tamlen. She needed to love, and this time she would not let it slip through her fingers. Even if she had to fight the entire army of Weisshaupt, she would not let him go. Not this time.
His hulking frame rose up onto the saddle behind her. She heard his grunt as he pulled on the wound in his stomach, bound tightly and healed by magic from the mages of the inquisition that had not been corrupt.
They were lucky that the Inquisitor had seen the need for Wardens, and had not thrown them from the land as they had been exiled from Fereldan all those years ago. Mahariel still recalled the ghosts of those wardens who had tried to overthrow the King at the Peak. It was Alistair's father, King Maric who had allowed them back.
Loghain's legs slipped besides hers which distracted her from her dark thoughts. His thighs brushed the outsides of hers and warmed them even through their sweat stained armour. A hand clutched at the bandages beneath his padded shirt, and the other clasped her hip. The saddle was not meant to hold two people, and this left him seated directly against her.
Mahariel felt her cheeks heat beneath the dark grey Vallaslin and white strands of hair. Creators, she would show herself up before the day was done.
"Are you well?" Loghain asked, suddenly close to her ear. His warm breath upon the pointed tip was enough to send a shiver through her tense frame.
"I am fine," she lied, and she felt him linger by her ear for a moment longer. It was a pregnant pause, and she got the feeling he wanted to say more. It certainly wasn't like Loghain to hold his tongue. That made her almost worried.
The Inquisitor rode up on her jet black stead. Lovely white blonde hair framed dark Vallaslin of June and eyes as rich as melted honey. The young woman was a Mage, and a powerful fire wielder at that. Paired with the knowledge of the arcane-warrior much the same as the one the warden had learnt from a soul trapped in an ancient phylactery. The Inquisitor was a formidable warrior.
"My apologies again for the lack of mounts for the return to Skyhold," Phoenix drew her horse up to the side of the two wardens.
"No harm done, Inquisitor," Loghain answered from over her shoulder before she could open her mouth.
"As warden Loghain says," she intoned, offering a quick smile for the young woman who had been thrust into leading the growing Inquisition, as she had once been given the title of Warden Commander of Fereldan. As it was, the young woman had a much harder job.
The inquisitor offered them one more nod before she turned to ride to the front where her Commander lead the remainder of the troops in their return to the stronghold in the mountains. It had certainly been odd to see Cullen again. Out of his Templar armour and fighting for peace in Thaedus; mages included.
After the battle he had clasped her hand, thanked her for saving him on that day in the circle where he had been tormented by blood mages and demons. The young Commander wished to speak with her more, when they returned to Skyhold.
She could see it in his tree sap eyes the words he had not spoken - he was thankful that she hadn't slaughtered the mages who had been innocent. The Warden did not think he could bare the guilt; nor could he look at the Inquisitor the same, if he had that blood on his hands.
It gave Mahariel hope that all she had sacrificed during the blight had been worth it, to some extend - to see that those she had saved had moved on, moved forward and could see a silver lining in the sky which had once been very shadowed.
That had been until Warden Loghain had approached them, a sharp look to those startling bright eyes. Commander Cullen had made his leave then, and Mahariel had hidden her face as she rolled her eyes.
To say the old General did not have feelings for her the way she had for him, he often growled and made those who spoke to her feel uncomfortable. Sometimes Mahariel believed he did it on purpose, just because he could make people ruin their small clothes.
"The others are moving, Warden," he said to her, in the tell-tale taciturn tone of her old friend and Hero of River-Dane.
Years after they'd separated for him to travel to Orlais and for her to remain at Amaranthine, they had taken to calling each other by name. Both in the letters they sent, and the times they had met up in some city when they both had the time to slip away for a moments break.
The fact that he had reverted to calling her 'Warden' when no one else was in ear shot meant there was defiantly something on his mind. As she clacked her heels against the mounts side, Mahariel set in to her determined frame of mind she had adapted for dealing with him when he was in one of his moods.
The trick with Loghain, to gain his respect, was to be as stubborn as he was. Butting heads with him had been one of her many pastimes.
"Speak up, Loghain. I do not wish to spend the entire journey with you staring holes in the back of my head," she eyed him briefly over her shoulder.
Yes, there was defiantly something on his mind. The scowl was there, and it was deep. Dark brows furrowed over a aquiline nose which she found rather charming. He had always been handsome, in a Fereldan way - sweat streaked skin from wearing heavy plate and smelling of rain soaked grass and dogs. It put others off, but Mahariel had always been drawn to it; as if he smelt like home.
"Warden Loghain, is it?" It surprised her that he gave it up so easily. He obviously wanted to get it off his chest, and his injury would have worsened his temperamental mood.
"Yes, you know we use those terms when with others," she returned, not looking at him and instead focussing on steering them along the path the Inquisitions soldiers were carving.
"I had thought we were passed that, Hearon," he remarked, shifting behind her. She couldn't catch herself from hitching her breath. He paused again, as if taking in the information for a second time and her hands tightened on the reins in response. She was being completely obvious.
He kept his left arm pressed against his injury, but the hand which held her hip tightened only a fraction. His fingers curved into the material there.
They were quiet for long moments after that. Loghain and herself had always had an easy silence, they never had to fill it with idle chit-chat and that was what had brought them together as more than enemies after the Landsmeet when they had begun to travel with one another.
This silence, however, felt like the crackle of air before a storm when lightening sliced the sky and thunder shook the heavens.
Loghain spoke finally, and it was low in tone, even for his gruff voice. "Do you remember all those letters you sent to me, when I was sentenced to serve in Orlais so that I could not meddle in the affairs of the Fereldan crown any longer?"
When he leaned forward slightly, his breast plate brushed over her cloak and she felt the metal as a presence on her back. She had found early on that she liked it when he was close to her, when their arms accidentally brushed or he held her in his sights with those clear blue eyes.
When he watched her, behind that mask he wore, she could almost feel like he reciprocated her feelings.
Mahariel had thought herself going mad at the time, discovering that she was attracted to a human and Loghain at that. She had hated herself for it, at first, feeling as if she had betrayed Tamlen. Betrayed her parents; her father who had been killed, and her mother who had walked off into the forests to never return - unable to live with his loss.
Being a Warden had made her realise that people were just that; people - no matter the race. She had to protect them all. Loghain continued, clearing her thoughts till she focused on nothing but his voice, his words.
"All those years," his voice took on an even rougher tone as his lips came close to her ear once more.
With her heightened senses, she could smell the musk of his hair and the sweat on his tanned skin from the time spent in the sun. Warmth radiated from his large body which covered hers from behind. Mahariel wanted to press further into him, allow his arms to wrap around her and for her head to lean on his broad shoulders.
"You tried to save me. From the torment of being away from my beloved country, from the humiliation of what I did during the blight, from my failures which should have ended in my death - you saved me."
"As you have come for me again," he added, as a gush of his breath blew strands of hair over her neck. "When I do not deserve it, do not deserve you."
The emotions in his words struck a cord with her, and the Warden arched backwards into him, unable to stop herself. She wanted more: wanted to be closer; to tell him what she felt; to show him. All those lonely nights spent in cold chambers at Vigils Keep where she dreamed of him, of how she missed his dry humour and of what his body would feel like on hers.
Sending him letters had been all she could do. On the nights where her heart beat too wildly for sleep, and the memories of his scent drove her mad, she would head down into her office with a candle lit to sit at her desk and ink out pages of her thoughts to him.
As she bent her head to him, his lips touched the shell of her pointed ear and she bit into her own lip to stifle a moan. How many nights had she imagined him drawing his tongue over that sensitive skin while he sunk his heated length into her; pinning her to the sheets.
His lips were soften than she expected and he had just touched her on a very intimate part of an elf. It was as if he'd trailed his hands up her torso and flicked her nipple with his thumb; the effects were certainly the same as she felt moisture between her legs.
She wondered if he knew the significance. If he knew that by offering the curve of her Elvhen ear, and the bare skin of her neck that she was offering herself to him.
Her attempt to hide her want for him hadn't gone as well as planned. His grip tightened on her hip, not painfully but she was able to feel it through the padding. She heard him intake a sharp breath, and that very sound sent a shock straight to her centre.
"Hear," he uttered her name like a prayer to the Maker.
"Loghain," she whimpered, her voice breaking on the plea for so much more. For him, for him to take her and for them to loose themselves in one another as the tension in the air between them had so often demanded.
He groaned low as he pushed his face to her neck and breathed in. A shiver traveled through her again, the pool of heat between her legs was almost unbearable as the ache grew till she felt like she'd go over the edge simply from the thought of him. His hair tickled her skin and she ached to reach up as she had wanted to do more times than she could count. To run her fingers through the inky strands and pull his face down to hers.
Her left hand lifted, and though sweat tangled and gritty from the fight, she grasped it as she had always wanted to. He rumbled into the junction between her shoulder and neck before reaching up to place his hand over hers.
When he lowered her hand back to side, she fought with the the guilt that she had done something he did not want. But he lessened the blow by squeezing her hand and rubbing a thumb on her hip in slow circles.
"We do not wish to alert the others," he murmured to her, want clear in his voice. As she wanted him, badly. The movements of the horses gait drew their bodies together likes waves upon rocks.
"As much as I would want those around to know you are with me, I do not think they would appreciate a show. Or more so, they would, but I will not have them looking at you like that."
He pressed a kiss to her neck which had her heart skidding in her chest along with his words. "Only I will see the faces you make when I please you," his teeth nipped her lobe and she jumped in her seat, it felt like lightening had struck her and travelled all the way to the sweet spot between her legs.
Her breathing came in short gasps and Loghain chuckled deeply.
"I will get you back," she smiled, an overwhelming feeling of hope rushed into her. He felt he same, and that was such a relief she could almost weep.
"I look forward to it," he shifted as he spoke so that his legs brushed hers and she could feel the evidence of his want for her at her back. "I have a feeling you will bring me to my knees as you did at the lands meet," he laughed, and pressed his nose against her hair.
The rest of the journey was a mix of thick sexual tension, and contemplative silences as they moved through the land. Loghain sometimes moved his hand from her waist when they rode to her shoulder, squeezing lightly as if he sensed her tenseness and aimed to ease it.
When the gates of Skyhold rose up out of the darkened snow, only lit by the bracers and torches which the nights watch carried, she felt the heat surface inside of her again. Nerves of both excitement and worry, it had been a long time since she's been intimate with anyone. Hunting the darkspawn alone, chasing leads of a cure hadn't left her with much personal time.
They travelled over the long bridge, a wary army and their inquisitor. As they surfaced from under the thick walls which separated the courtyard from the rest of the world, Mahariel steered her horse away from where the inquisitors inner circle were greeting her.
Both herself and Loghain dismounted. Him first, and when she threw her leg over, he cupped her back in an intimate display. She couldn't decide whether he simply wanted to touch her, or honestly thought she would keel over. Mahariel wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't collapse from exhaustion, and lack of food - Wardens needed much more than the average person of the taint would eat away at them faster.
As a man with a Fereldan accent came to take the reins of her horse, promising to take care of the Grey mare, Loghain bent his head to hers.
"Go and rest up. Eat, for you need it. My chambers will be open to you tonight, if you still wish it."
With that, the General walked away. Mahariel felt the absence of his warmth acutely. She only managed a quick look at the impressive keep before she was whisked away by people who insisted the Hero of Fereldan should not be forgotten.
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Written a few months ago. I checked it over and thought I might as well post it so it doesn't go to waste. Should start working on the second part soon.