[Okay, I'm fed up with the lack of fangirl enthusiasm for Jowan. So here is a hopefully good (or at least not-horribly-sucktastic) attempt at Jowan lovin'. (Oh, how I wanted to conscript that maleficar...)]
He paced nervously outside of her tent, debating with himself whether or not to rouse her if she truly was asleep. Jowan had been travelling with Luna's band of warriors for months now, ever since she had Conscripted him, thus saving him from death at the hands of the Templars- or worse, the Rite of Tranquility at the "mercy" of the Circle, after the incident at Redcliffe. The path she had set him on had been difficult, yet somehow she had eased the transition, helped him to find a niche within the group. Earning the trust of her comrades, was still a daily struggle, but he managed, thanks in no small part to Luna's own unwavering faith in him. How she had found it within herself to still call him a friend after all of the grievous mistakes he had made was beyond him, but he was glad to have her support.
In the days since his rescue, he had glimpsed another side to Luna that he had never noticed before. Something had changed in her, indefinable yet obvious to anyone who had known her for as long as he had. Tempered through the flames of battles both physical and mental, she had gained a strength that rivaled- nay, surpassed that of even the senior mages of the Tower. She had always been confident in her abilities, but now it seemed that she would be willing to march into the heart of the Black City itself, if called to do so in the name of a righteous cause.
And as the days passed, the two of them spending much of their time reforging the bonds of their friendship, he realized that if she were called upon to undertake such a task, he would happily follow her beyond the Veil and back again a hundred times over, just to lend her his strength. For she had seen him fall, and rather than let him drop into the abyss, she had caught him, dragged him back to his feet to stand at her side, hardly unscathed, but certainly wiser for surviving the misadventure. She accepted his failings, told him that they only made him stronger. Without hesitation, despite the doctrine that the Chantry had tried so very hard to instill in all of them, she embraced his use of blood magic. "Used carefully," she had whispered to him on their way back to camp one afternoon, "I imagine that it's quite useful. If you really want to stop using it altogether, that's fine... but I wouldn't object if you kept it up, just so you know. Er, just be careful around Alistair. Old habits die hard..."
It was after that exchange when he realized with startling clarity that his feelings towards Luna were fast becoming anything but brotherly. Wracked with guilt, he had thought of Lily; how she had suffered because of his foolishness, how she had pushed him away that night at the Tower, when they had tried to escape and his dabbling in the forbidden arts had been revealed... A part of him had dared to hope that they might still be reconciled, if only he could find her in whatever far-flung corner of the world the Chantry had placed her. But he knew that reality was far crueler than that. Even if he did by some miracle find Lily again, she undoubtedly despised him now. If not for where their doomed love had gotten her then surely for what he was. A maleficar...
For several days after his revelation, Jowan avoided speaking with Luna, afraid that his inner turmoil would only bring her pain. He still mourned the loss of Lily, and to give his fellow mage false hope would only drag her down into despair with him. Just before sending him into the Fade to battle the Desire demon for Connor's soul, she had confessed that she had loved him since they were children. It had been too late, she lamented, when she had finally mustered the courage to tell him, for by that time he had met Lily.
He eyed the flap of the tent nervously, wondering for the umpteenth time if Luna was even still awake. The hour was late, and everyone else had turned in for the night long ago. All except for Morrigan, of course. He could feel the witch's gold eyes on him even from his position clear across the camp. Perhaps his indecision amused her, for he could have sworn he heard a faint chuckle from her direction as he continued to pace, shooting quick glares at her distant form.
"You know, if you want to talk about something, you could always just come in?"
"Maker's breath!?" Startled, Jowan spun in place, falling off his feet. Luna peered out at him from inside her tent, giggling. "L-Luna! I, uh... I was just..." he stammered, his face flushing a bright shade of pink. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to wake you! I was-"
Her silvery laugh cut the tension as she held the flap open in invitation. "Making a nice ditch in front of my tent with all that pacing? Come in, quick, before Morrigan has a chance to mock you for that spectacular flip you just did."
The mage glanced over at Morrigan who was indeed laughing at the embarassing display. He winced, crawling into the tent with all the dignity of a whipped dog. "Ugh... How do you stand that woman?" he grumbled, moving aside a few arcane tomes so he could sit comfortably within the confined space. One would have thought that a life on the road would have broken the Warden of her hoarding ways, but the interior of her tent proved that wasn't happening any time soon.
"Morrigan's really not so bad, once you get to know her." Luna smiled pleasantly, adjusting the pair of cushions she used as a makeshift couch for liesurely reading before settling into them. Her brows furrowed wryly. "Of course, you actually have to want to get to know her."
"You always were braver than I am." Jowan shook his head sadly.
"Says the blood mage," she laughed. "Anyway, I assume you have something on your mind, Jowan? Else you would not have been stomping around out there for the last hour, no?" Her tone softened as she caught the flash of discomfort that crossed his countenance. "What's on your mind?"
In the time he had spent trying to think of a way to start this conversation, he had imagined and scrapped too many lines to count. Face to face with the dilemma herself, the only thing he could think of that would suffice was the truth. After a long pause, he replied flatly, "You are."
She blinked a few times in surprise. "Me?"
"Yes!" he sighed, making an attempt to get up and begin pacing again, but when his head connected with the top of the tent, he dropped back to the floor clumsily. "I keep trying and trying to block it out, but nothing I do seems to make any difference. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't even breathe without thinking about it. I have to know... Luna, did you... did you mean what you said? Back at Redcliffe, I mean?"
The Warden blushed suddenly, averting her gaze from his intense stare. "I-I suppose I did..." she squeaked pitifully. "I didn't mean to upset you or anything, I just... had to tell you... If something had gone wrong and you didn't come back or... or worse..." Her hands clenched the fabric of her robes until her knuckles were white. "I never could've forgiven myself if I didn't at least tell you..." Her eyes flicked up to meet his uncertainly. "I love you, Jowan. I always will."
He swallowed hard, knowing that what came next would be the deciding blow in the war raging in his head. "I need to check something, Luna. I have to know, or it'll drive me insane. Well, more insane. I want you to... close your eyes."
She arched an eyebrow at him, unsure what to make of the turmoil in his blue eyes. "Ummm..."
"Wh-What?" he asked nervously, afraid that he'd gone too far.
"The last time anyone asked me to close my eyes, I ended up on the receiving end of a bad hexing prank back at the Tower."
Jowan groaned in exasperation. "Luna, please... just do it."
"Very well..." Reluctantly, she complied, closing her eyes. They opened again involuntarily when she felt his lips press gently against her own. His hands drifted up to her cheeks, pulling her slightly closer as he kissed her. She longed to touch him, to wrap her arms around him and mold herself to his taller form, but she held back, waiting to see his reaction. It was a test, of that she had no doubt. Her old friend was gauging the limits of his own resistance, of his guilt and fear. She wanted to be strong in this moment, for him, to keep her emotions in check for his sake, until he himself knew whether or not he wanted to walk down this path.
But when he pulled away at last, she could not stop herself from breathing his name, that one word carrying in its tone all of the need she had kept bottled up within her heart for the better part of the last decade. "Jowan..."
He smoothed her tousled hair back from her face, gazing deeply into her green eyes. He had expected to feel guilt in this moment, had almost prayed that he would, and yet... there was only peace.
"Jowan... please..." It was a plea, desperation lacing her voice.
His lips closed on hers, his fingers threading their way through her auburn locks. With a soft moan of relief, Luna's arms snaked their way around his waist, pulling him flush against her. They fell back against the cushions, and as her leg shifted, she felt his arousal through his robes. Startled by this sudden contact, her lips parted in a gasp, but her fear was soon quieted as his tongue slipped past her lips, flicking across her own. Experimentally, she mimicked his actions, earning her an amused chuckle.
"I take it you haven't had much practice in this area?" Jowan asked against her mouth, smirking.
The younger mage pouted up at him. "Is that a bad thing?"
He shook his head, brushing a thumb across her cheek affectionately. "Not at all. You've always been a quick study; I have no doubt you'll get the hang of it in no time." His eyes trailed lower, to the swell of her bosom, then back up to her face. He saw the apprehension in her eyes as his hand slid down her side, coming to rest on her hip. "If you'd rather we waited..." he began.
"No... Jowan, there is nothing in this world I want more than you. Please... don't stop." Hesitantly, she reached up to finger the clasps of his robes. "I want to see you... all of you."
With his aid and indulgence, she divested him of his robes, revealing the surprisingly well-toned body hidden beneath, the scars traced here and there, signs of his "dabbling" in blood magic. Her fingers reverently explored much of that pale landscape before they settled testingly on the waistband of his breeches. Without the extra barrier provided by his robes, the hard knot of his erection was now quite evident. She whet her lips nervously. In all of her years in the Circle and the months since her departure, she had never once actually seen a man unclothed up close. Sex was something she had avoided, not so much out of prudishness, but rather because she wanted her first time to be with a man she loved. And all that time, her chances of winning Jowan's affections had been practically nonexistent. Now that she was finally able to satisfy her own dream, she found herself more than a little afraid of what lay behind that final layer of cloth.
"It's alright," Jowan soothed her, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Take your time."
She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. With no small effort of will, Luna forced herself to take the plunge, unlacing his breeches and carefully pushing them down until he was completely bare. The Warden inhaled sharply. "Andraste's mercy..." she breathed, unprepared for the instinctive wave of heat that rushed through her belly at the sight of his member standing fully at attention. What would it feel like, she wondered absently, once he was inside her? Carefully, she ran her fingers along the velvet length of him, marvelling at the way he twitched under her touch.
"That impressive, is it?" the blood mage laughed, arching an eyebrow at her. "Now, I do believe it's your turn, my little Luna." He unclasped her gold-hued robes, leaning down to nip affectionately at her jawline. "After all, it's not fair if I'm the only one whose secrets are exposed..." Her clothing soon followed his, thrown carelessly atop the forgotten pile of books nearby. He leaned back to admire the expanse of flawless porcelain flesh laid out before him, all softness and full curves. "You're... Maker's breath, Luna, you're beautiful." He could understand now why the Templar, Cullen, had been so thoroughly captivated by his best friend. With her doll-like features and trusting, ever-curious eyes, she seemed more angel than mage.
He lowered his head to her breast slowly, his mouth closing on one pink nipple which elicited a soft moan from the Warden that would've made a Desire demon blush. Her hand fisted in his raven-black hair as he suckled her, every little gasp of hers bringing him closer to desperation. How many times had she wanted to bury her fingers in those silken locks like this? A hundred? A thousand? It had felt like an eternity, yet the wait was worth it for this small pleasure alone.
Jowan let his hand drop to her thigh, easing around to stroke into the soft bed of curls between her legs. She arched into his touch, letting him feel the wetness pooling there. He smiled. "Are you ready?" Unable to do much more than breathe while she focused on the warm friction of his fingers against her sex, Luna nodded, her legs parting for him. He felt himself jerk at the thought of sinking into her. The blood mage lifted her hips slightly as he slid inside her, pausing when the head of his member bumped against her maidenhead. He chuckled, shaking his head. "I still can't believe you've remained a virgin for all these years. With your looks, you could've had any man you wanted."
"I d-didn't want any man," she said quietly, her eyes locking with his. "I wanted you."
He wanted to tell her that he was sorry. For all the trouble he had caused her, for never seeing the adoration in her eyes until now, for any and every wrong that had ever befallen her. That he was sorry that this was the only comfort he could give her; she deserved better, he knew.
But she wanted him, only him. And that was enough.
"This is going to hurt," he said, pressing his forehead to hers.
Luna smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I know." Her cheeks gloriously flushed in anticipation, she relaxed fully, trusting him as completely as she had when they were children together in the Circle. "I love you, Jowan."
With one good push, he broke through her maidenhead, her pained cry stifled against his shoulder. He did his best to ease her into the motions, thrusting slow and deep. It didn't take long for her to begin matching his pace, arching with his every movement as discomfort gave way to all-consuming need. She almost couldn't believe that anything could feel so good.
"Love you t-too..." He groaned as she writhed against him, bucking into her with renewed force. The heat within her was overpowering, the way she tightened around him as he spoke driving him to the brink of madness. The tent filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, their labored breathing and moans blending with the rhythmic beat of his hips colliding with hers.
The pressure at her core built, rising higher and higher until she knew she was at her end. With a cry of his name, she climaxed, clinging to him for dear life as the world exploded around her. Her convulsions brought him to completion, pulsing inside her with a groan of satisfaction.
She whimpered softly as Jowan withdrew from her, rolling onto his side and gathering her into his arms. Coming down from the dizzying high of her orgasm, the younger mage nestled her cheek against his chest. "... Wow," she said breathlessly.
"Wow, indeed." He laughed, kissing her lightly. His smile was warm, his eyes soft as he stroked her hair, watching her eyes flutter closed, an innocent, almost childish grin forming on her lips. For the first time since his escape from the Tower, the apostate felt completely at ease. The pair dozed lazily in the warm confines of Luna's tent, safe for once, with the lingering scents of blood and sex mingling in the air.