A Warm Welcome

To say that Carver was nervous when they took him to meet the Warden Commander would have been the understatement of the century. All the way from Kirkwall to Vigil's Keep, whenever he'd asked a question, Stroud had snorted contemptuously and had told him to wait until he'd met her.

The Warden Commander. Megan Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden. He had pictured a tall, forbidding warrior, much like Meredith; proud and haughty. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined the devastatingly pretty girl in the short housedress that greeted them with a bright, cheeky smile.

"Stroud, you old sourpuss. I hear you've brought me a new Warden. Let me look at him."

She gracefully jumped off the window sill where she'd been perched, chewing on an apple and reading a slim book, and came toward him. To his surprise, Carver found himself shyly smiling back. She had much the same effect on his fellow Wardens, he observed. Oghren was grinning like a madman, and even Nathaniel had forgone his usual broody expression in favour of an amused smirk.

Only Stroud kept a straight face. "Commander."

She stopped right in front of Carver, looking him over with an openly appraising gaze. He stared back, still in a kind of daze. So pretty. Strawberry blonde hair; a dusting of freckles on her slightly upturned nose; blue-green eyes twinkling merrily. The short green dress showed off her slim legs and did nothing to hide her curves. He blushed when he realized where his eyes had wandered, but her smile never wavered.

"What's your name, Warden?" From close up, he could see she wasn't quite as young and carefree as she had seemed at first. There were tiny lines around her eyes, and more than just a few scars on her arms and legs... Probably on the rest of her body as well...

He cleared his throat. "Carver Hawke, Commander."

"Hawke." Her tone turned thoughtful. "I read Stroud's report. It said your brother was in charge of that ill-fated expedition when he met you."

"Revon. He's the hero." He scowled, angry at being in his brother's shadow even here.

But she just shrugged. "No one here cares about your brother, you know. You're on your own."

Carver raised his chin. "I prefer it that way."

Megan must have heard the barely contained aggression in his voice and realized he was at the end of his tether. "I see." She gestured at the other Wardens. "Leave us alone."

They filed out of the room, Stroud with a frown on his face, while Nathaniel winked at him with a grin. As soon as the door closed behind them, Megan wandered over to a group of armchairs near the fireplace, signalling him to follow her.

"How old are you, Carver?" She arranged herself comfortably in one of the chairs, crossing her legs. The sight of her smooth, white skin made unbidden images flash across his inner eye. Stop it, Carver. She's your Commander.

"Nineteen." He clenched his teeth.

"Nineteen." She looked thoughtful. "You know, I was nineteen when I became a Warden. Seems so long ago. But I remember the first days after my Joining. I had lost my whole family and I was so angry, so sad, so lonely." She stared into the fire, then shook herself and made a face. "And so unbearably horny."

His head flew up at her words and he flushed a deep, dark red.

She grinned at his reaction. "The boys didn't talk to you? Stroud is such an idiot sometimes. You must have gone half mad on the journey here."

She got up and walked over to his chair, leaning across his shoulder from behind, her breath warm and sweet on his cheek. "It's perfectly normal, you know. Warden appetites. They will dull later, but don't expect them to go away."

Carver swallowed. She was so very close and so lovely, and, Maker, he wanted her so badly he could hardly see straight. "Commander, I—"

"Call me Megan." Her voice had become even more gentle. "It's all right, Carver. I know what you need."

Her hand travelled slowly down his arm until she took his hand and pulled him up from the chair, leading him toward the bed.

"Commander... Megan," he stuttered. "Please, I've never—"

She turned to face him, her eyebrows raised in surprise, but her smile was sweet as she untied the sash of her dress. "Don't worry. I promise you're going to like this. Unless—" She hesitated for a moment. "Unless you're absolutely sure you won't, in which case I recommend you have a word with Nate."

When the meaning of her words sunk in, he blushed hotly again. "No, I... I like girls."

"Good." Oh, Maker, that radiant smile again. "Come here."

The dress came off easily, followed by her breastband and her smalls. And then she was completely naked, and he struggled for breath, unsure of whether to close his eyes or to drink in the sight of her. Her breasts were lovely, round and perky, her hips well rounded and her blonde curls neatly trimmed. Fumblingly, he reached for the buckles of his armour. She was there to help him, her fingers nimble and light, and he almost moaned aloud when he breathed in her fresh, tart scent. She undressed him quickly and then pulled him onto the bed with her, eyeing his body appreciatively. Carver was grateful for his muscular build, glad he had taken the trouble to keep fit.

He was trembling with desire, his arousal further stoked by the sight of her naked body so close to his. No matter how hard he fought for control, he knew there was no way he could last long in her presence, especially not now that she had pulled him into a long, deep kiss, her lips soft and yielding, her tongue playing with his. He shivered all over and, when she reached out to touch him, he came practically at once; so hard that he bucked into her hand with a stifled groan of shame, spilling all over his stomach.

"It's fine." She laughed softly, without a trace of mockery.

He watched with horrified fascination as she lifted her hand to her lips and licked it clean with a small sigh of enjoyment. "That's pretty much what I expected, sweetheart. No need to be embarrassed."

"But, I—" He couldn't even continue, so mortified did he feel. Mortified, and mad at himself for spoiling this, when all he could think of was how much he'd wanted to be inside her, to finally know what it felt like to be with a woman... For years, he had watched his brother fondle Merrill's slim body; had tried not to imagine what they had been up to all night at her place when Revon had returned in the morning, grinning like a mooncalf.

"Hey." Megan took hold of his chin, making him look at her. "Stop brooding. You're nineteen years old and a Warden. You'll be up for more in no time at all. Just you wait. And in the meantime..."

She lay back on the bed with an inviting gesture. "Why don't you see what you can do to make me happy?"

Much later he would realize how exceedingly lucky he had been to have his first time with her, rather than with some bored Lowtown whore or clueless farm wench. Megan was sweet, patient, and gentle. The first time she'd laughed at his clumsiness, he'd flinched, but, she had quickly kissed his frown away and he'd realized her laughter wasn't directed at him; just a merry bubbling up of joy about what they could do together and amusement at the inherent awkwardness of the act.

Carver worked his way all over her body with his hands and mouth, eager to touch and feel her, and she kept encouraging him with little moans and sighs when he did something right, yet didn't hesitate to let him know when he hadn't. With utter fascination, he watched her unfold before his eyes, took note of the flush on her skin, the softening of her gaze; the way she wiggled ever closer into his touch until he had two fingers buried deep inside her wet heat while his mouth was locked around a straining nipple.

He was fully hard again by that time and more than ready when she finally took him in, guiding his throbbing cock with her hand until he found the right spot and the right angle. He slid inside her, and it was incredibly good, better than anything he had ever imagined; so tight, so warm, so snug. Every fibre in his body screamed at him to move, to pound into her until he'd found his release, but her strong thighs held him firmly in place, forcing him to stay still.

"Megan, please!" He buried his face between her breasts, overwhelmed by it all, hardly able to contain himself.

This time she didn't laugh, but held him, whispering encouraging words into his ear until he had recovered a little. He took a few deep breaths, and slowly, very slowly, fought his way back from the edge. Not yet. She waited patiently until he nodded and, only then, did she allow him to move. He knew immediately that this had been worth the wait. The soft slide of flesh on flesh, the incredible feeling of sinking into her heat again and again, her body moving in time with his—this was how it should be, this was what he'd hoped for all those years.

Megan was anything but passive, wiggling under him until she was satisfied with the position; her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands on his lower back guiding his movements. Carver clung to every shred of control he could muster, forcing himself to keep up a steady pace until she finally arched up high under him; a silent scream on her lips. Then he let go, a few quick, sharp thrusts enough to make him find his release.

He held on to her afterwards until she nudged him off her body, and blushed again when he slid out of her. She led him to the adjoining bathroom and they cleaned up and got dressed.

Then she sent him on his way with a brief, sweet kiss. "Good night, Carver. And welcome to Vigil's Keep."

It was fully dark outside by the time he made his way down to the kitchen in search of some food. He was even more hungry than usual, no doubt thanks to their vigorous activities. Much to his dismay, Nathaniel was there, balancing a tray laden with food and ale and grinning broadly at him when he entered.

"Carver. You look much better." The older Warden's teasing tone left no doubt that he knew what had happened, and Carver hesitated, lost for words.

"It's all right, you know." Nathaniel set the tray down and put a friendly hand on his shoulder. "She did pretty much the same for me after my Joining, and I'll always be grateful to her. That's just Megan's way. She's... remarkably easy-going for a noblewoman. Always has been."

Carver shook his head. "But isn't she worried we won't respect her?" he blurted out. "She's our Commander and yet—"

"Oh, you'll respect her all right, once you've seen her fight." Nathaniel's tone was dry. "She killed an Archdemon. She saved Ferelden. I guess she figures she can have a little fun if she wants to."

He picked up his provisions again and headed for the door. "Welcome to the Keep, Carver," he threw back over his shoulder. "I'm sure you will come to like it here."

Big hugs and thanks to suilven who kindly agreed to beta this story for me. Thank you so much, hon!