A/N: This story is set in camp, right after the events of Chapter 14 of 'Cats on the Prowl', and before 'Everything's better with pirates'. You won't be surprised to learn that I'm not particularly fond of Wynne...
A huge thank you and lots of hugs to Zevgirl for a fantastic beta job.
Chapter 1: Payback
They were about ten days' journey away from Orzammar. It was a warm spring day, and they had set up camp early, wishing to take advantage of the remaining daylight. Their provisions were sadly depleted and consisted mostly of stale bread and onions. Cat, Alistair and Morrigan had set out in search of more substantial fare for dinner. They were a good team, having hunted together now for several months. Of course the witch's ability to transform into a bird of prey or a wolf at will made her easily the most efficient hunter in their party, but both Cat and Alistair had gone hunting since they were small children and they knew what they were doing. The others stayed behind to set up the tents and make sure the camp would be secure. After the shriek attack a few weeks ago, they had become doubly careful.
When the hunters returned to camp, Alistair was carrying a young buck over his broad shoulders, and three skinned hares were dangling from Cat's hands. She passed them to Leliana, who was busy preparing their evening stew, and was heading for her tent, when Wynne stopped her.
"A word, please, Warden." The mage's voice sounded strained.
Cat was surprised, but followed her over to the edge of the clearing where they wouldn't be overheard. She looked at the older woman with an expectant face.
"Well, Wynne?"
"You're quite taken with each other, aren't you?" Wynne's disapproving smirk and the quick movement of her head towards Zevran made it abundantly clear who she was talking about.
"And what if we are, Wynne?" Cat felt immediately defensive. Her mood quickly turned to anger, though, as Wynne went on and on, pontificating about her responsibilities as a Grey Warden and the dangerous selfishness of love, questioning her about her plans for the future and the seriousness of her intentions.
Cat tried to brush her off with light, flippant answers, but to no avail. Finally, she couldn't bear it any more.
"Really, Wynne, who I sleep with is none of your business! I'm old enough to think for myself, thank you very much," she snarled, not bothering any longer to be polite.
"Obviously not, if you think this... fling of yours is going to endure," Wynne snapped back. With an audible huff of disdain, the mage turned around on her heel and walked off to her tent, disappearing inside.
Cat watched her walk away, for a moment lost for words. Then she grabbed some bread and two bowls of stew, despite Leliana's protestations that it wasn't done yet, and made her way toward her own tent. She found herself repeating the conversation in her head, getting angrier every time. 'Fling' indeed! Really, the woman had some nerve!
She ducked inside and found herself face to face with Zevran. He was half-undressed, but not even the pleasing sight of his naked torso could banish the angry frown from her face. One look at her told him she was in a seriously bad mood.
"Why so angry, carissima?" His voice was gentle and soothing, his stance cautious, almost wary.
She snorted as she handed him a bowl. "Wynne," she answered grimly, and she saw a flash of understanding cross his face. The old mage had made no secret of her disapproval of him. Naturally, her disdain had provoked him into ever more outrageous remarks. More than once, Cat had had to hide a smile at his breezy impertinence.
They ate in silence, but she was fuming inside, hardly tasting her food. Oh, but she was furious. And she really, really, wanted to get back at the mage for her insufferable smugness. Of course some part of her brain acknowledged she was being childish. But there was no reason to let Wynne get away without a little suffering, was there? Cat chewed her lower lip, deliberating her next move. What to do? What would annoy her most?
A wicked little grin started to spread across her face as she recalled Wynne's words, the prim tone of her voice. 'Half of us aren't getting any sleep, the way you two carry on all night.' Yeah, as if. They had always been careful to keep the noise down. Anything else would have been far too embarrassing in a crowded camp like this. However, if Wynne really found it so bothersome...
She turned to her lover. "Zev, can you do something for me?"
He smiled at her fondly, stroking her cheek. "Anything, my love, as long as it's in my power to do so."
"Oh, I'm sure it is," she purred, leaning into his touch. "I want you to make love to me... and I want us to make as much noise as we possibly can."
Zevran had to bite his lip in order not to laugh out loud. Normally she was so anxious to keep quiet that she'd rather clamp her teeth into his shoulder than allow herself to cry out in pleasure. Not that he objected to the biting... Then again, this should be interesting. "A challenge!" he grinned as he pulled her into a soft, sensual embrace. "Don't worry, dolcissima, I will make you sing, I promise."
Cat sighed happily as she settled in his arms. His lips began to move over her jawbone and down her neck, nipping gently, so soft, so hot... Quickly he removed her armour, then her shift, and so on until they were both naked. He knelt down in front of her, burying his face in her soft curls, inhaling deeply. Then he took hold of her and slowly pulled her downwards, his lips never leaving her body, leaving a hot trail all over her belly and her breastbone. When she was kneeling before him, he kissed her long and deep. He took his time, exploring her mouth thoroughly, nibbling on her lips, making her shiver. When he broke away, she was breathless and panting.
He pushed her gently back onto the bedroll and reached for his pack. A quick forage in there produced a velvet pouch from which he took a long soft white feather. "Close your eyes, my love, and keep still." She obeyed, and for a long moment, he kept her waiting, admiring her slim, supple body. Their wanderings all over Ferelden had left her lean and trim, her arms and legs well-muscled, her belly flat. Yet her breasts had lost nothing of their pleasing fullness, and her hips were softly rounded. Her skin was pale and had a pearly sheen in the dim light.
When he noticed her growing restlessness, he tore his gaze away and began to caress her breasts with the feather, tantalizingly light touches that made her gasp. Zevran took his time, as he let it travel all over her body, until she was moaning softly. He stretched out next to her and with a grin, caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth.
"No need to be quiet, remember?" he whispered in her ear, and was immediately rewarded by a louder sigh. "Very nice," he said approvingly, abandoning the feather and letting his mouth take over, caressing her breasts with light strokes of his tongue.
When she reached out for him, he took hold of her arms, gently pinning them down at her sides. "Not so impatient, bellissima," he growled, not bothering to keep his voice down. "Or do I have to tie you down?"
Cat's eyes widened, but she shook her head. Her whole body felt feverish and hot, and she was only too happy to let him proceed. The touch of the feather had been incredibly titillating, making her skin come alive with a peculiar sensation not unlike the tingling she felt from Morrigan's lightning spells. And now his lips, his tongue, his hands... She writhed under him, trying to pull him closer, moaning louder now, her legs spreading invitingly.
Zevran was enjoying himself immensely. "Tell me what you want from me, cara," he commanded, revelling in her blushing face. "Well?"
She visibly struggled. "Your mouth, here," she breathed, pointing at her crotch.
He cocked his head, an impish grin on his face. "What was that, my love? I can't hear you."
She shot him a dark look, at the same time stifling a giggle that immediately turned into a long drawn-out moan when he sucked hard on her nipple. "Damn it, Zev, lick me, please." Her voice was clearly audible now and he chuckled.
"But of course, my sweet, you only have to ask." When he bowed down and let his tongue rasp along her hot wet opening, she cried out, a single high-pitched cry that he answered with a low groan. With one hand he held down her hips while the other reached up to her breasts, gently pinching her hard nipples.
His tongue never left her heat, painting soft circles, flicking against her sensitive nub, teasing her until she was chanting his name. "Zev, Zev, Zev!" The sound of it on her lips made him more aroused than he could afford right now, and he quickly moved up, silencing her briefly with a kiss, before he pulled back.
"What now?" he demanded. "What do you want?"
Her face was flushed with desire as she looked up at him. This time there was no blushing; she spoke freely, her voice clear and high. "I want you, Zev, inside me. Deep inside me."
He laughed triumphantly, and gripped her hips firmly, flipping her around with a swiftness born of long practice, positioning her on all fours. "Like this?" he growled, burying himself in her heat without further warning, both hands on her firm, rounded buttocks.
"Yes!" she cried out, pushing herself back against him, her head thrown back, her eyes closed in ecstasy.
He forced himself to keep still. "Again?" he panted.
"Yes!" Her cry was answered by another deep thrust, then he stopped again, waiting for her.
"Oh Zev, please, yes!" she cried again, and he pounded inside her once more.
They quickly settled into a rhythm, alternating between her cries and his thrusts. Cat felt herself go dizzy at the intensity of it, some small part of her still embarrassed by the racket they were making, with her screaming and the loud slapping of flesh against flesh. Yet she couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop, and as he kept up the insistent pace, the last barriers fell and she found herself no longer caring about the others, forgetting they even existed. There was nothing but the fire inside her, spreading, washing through her, overwhelming her.
With a final hoarse cry, she threw herself back against him, arching up high. His hands reached out for her and he pressed her body hard against him, held her tight as he felt her muscles contract around him over and over. He groaned and she felt him go limp against her back, shivering, trembling, just as spent as she was.
Exhausted and sated, she curled up on the bedroll. Zevran settled behind her with his arms around her, his hand resting lightly on her hip. She had been very vocal indeed. He smiled inwardly, picturing the faces of their companions when they would emerge from their tent the next morning. "Now, my sweet, what exactly did Wynne do to make you so... aggressive?"
Cat frowned deeply. "Really, that interfering old hag!" She hissed angrily at the memory. "Maker, Zev, you should have heard her. She sounded just like my mother. The way she talked about you! 'It seems he only ever has one thing on his mind.'"
Her imitation of Wynne's pompous tone was spot on and Zevran grinned from ear to ear.
"Well, she's mostly right, I won't deny that. Still," he pouted provocatively. "I'm hurt. You think your mother would not have liked me? What's not to like about a handsome Elven assassin from Antiva?" His voice was dripping pure sarcasm now.
Cat laughed sardonically. "Yeah, I am sure she would have appreciated your many fine qualities. You're just the son-in-law she was always dreaming about."
He propped himself up on his elbow to look at her, serious now. "Ahhh, cara, don't be so bitter. She was your mother. You don't think it would have counted for something that I am making her daughter happy?"
Cat looked into his eyes, and what he read in hers made him flinch. "Not to my mother, Zev. To her, happiness just didn't come into it. I doubt she believed in its existence at all, outside of romantic novels. All she cared about was duty, family, the neighbours' opinion of us. And an advantageous match for me, of course." She shivered and Zevran put an arm around her shoulder. "'A Cousland doesn't run away from her duty, no matter how unpleasant it may seem'," she quoted in her mother's haughty, icy voice. "She would have done everything in her power to make me marry Alistair. To make me the Queen of Ferelden. A perfect match indeed... who cares whether there is any love involved. After all, we could always pretend to be happily married." Cat shuddered. "What a hypocrite she was!"
Zevran tried to pull her closer, but she pushed him away, her hands gesturing passionately, her gaze intense, willing him to understand. "Maker knows, I tried to talk to her, more than once. I told her that I needed my freedom, that I had to follow my dreams and be true to myself, but to her, that was just so much romantic nonsense." She finally allowed him to embrace her, kissing him back fiercely.
"Zev, I won't be like her! I won't live a lie. You're the one I love and I want to be with you."
Zevran shushed her gently, patting her back. "Shh, my love, you will be with me, if that's what you want. But there'll be a price to pay. It won't be easy."
"There's always a price, Zev. I know that." She looked at him, her expression sad and tired. Then she shook herself like a wet dog, chasing away the sombre mood. "Enough about this!" With a lithe, sinuous movement, she slid down along his body, her hands moving over his stomach, down to his thighs, softly stroking until he felt his cock rise again. "Now, my lover, we will see if we can make you scream as well."
Her hands reached between his legs, playing with the soft, loose skin of his balls, while her tongue ran up his length, soft and insistent. When her lips closed around him and he felt her tongue twirl around his tip, Zevran sighed a deep happy sigh. "I think..." he gasped, "...we can arrange for this, cara."