Goddess Worship

by: Vema

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, and I'm making no money off this. I'm not sure where this idea came from. I have a thing for weird pairings. :) Reviews and feedback are much appreciated.

Wynne shoveled more dirt onto the fire, wondering how she was the last one awake in the camp. The sounds coming from the Warden's tent had her amending the thought hastily; not the last one awake it seemed, just the last one outside. Sten had turned in early, muttering to the Warden's dog, Sir Wiggles, that he should protect the camp in his stead. Oghren had drunkenly wandered off into the forest a bit, then wandered back and passed out half inside his tent. Leliana had mooned a bit over the romance growing between their leader and Alistair before retiring. Even the distressingly familiar assassin wasn't around, though she was a bit relieved by that. With only the two of them in the night, sitting near the fire, Maker knew what he would try.

Exasperating, that's what he was. Why, she was probably three times his age! Being at the Circle Tower, she had had enough experience with elves to know that they aged at the same rate as humans. Who knew if the legends of the immortal ones were even true? She had to admit, though... Despite the indecency of it all, it was very ...flattering, to be admired, especially by someone who was so...

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she shook her head, flushing Why, he was probably mocking her. How embarrassing, to know that a thing was false and be flattered by it anyway. If she let Zevran know she found him attractive, why -

Wynne stopped herself again, closing her eyes. I need a stiff drink and some sleep to get these ridiculous thoughts out of my head. Where is Oghren when I need him? Well, she had some special concoctions she'd obtained from Owain for the journey. The strongest he had, because travel had to be light. She obtained one of the small amber bottles, walked into the forest a bit for privacy, and took a long pull from the phial.

The burn in her throat didn't do anything to distract her, unfortunately. She took a few more sips and looked to the heavens. The perfect, silver circle of the moon hung heavy in between the branches above her, and she marveled at the beauty of the Maker's world. The forest was so beautiful that it made her longing for the Circle lessen slightly.

Regret swelled her breast. She had wasted her youth on study and scholarship, leaving no time for romance. Now she was old, would not be here save for the spirit which bound her to life. She felt the spirit's energy surrounding her in sympathy, trying to comfort her, and was thankful for it's presence. The chance to help save the world was more than she could ask for, and yet in her deepest desires... she wished she did have someone special to share this with. In her youth, she would have found the Antivan very alluring, despite her moral qualms about his occupation. As if her own imagination were taunting her, she could almost smell the strange mixture of spice and leather that came off the elf. She took several more swallows of the strong liquor, and then moved a few steps back to lean against the tree behind her.

The tree was closer than she thought it had been, and warmer to the touch. Her mind was slow, sluggish from the good Tranquil's potion. The bark felt wrong, too smooth. Or was that...

"Ah, my darling Wynne," said the sultry voice in her ear as strong arms wrapped around her, "Alone at last...and I see you started without me."

"You scoundrel!" she exclaimed, batting at his hands as one gripped a hip. His other arm wrapped around her torso, securing her just below her breasts. "Unhand me this instant!"

"Oh, but where would be the fun in that?"

"Is that all you think about? Having fun?" Despite her harsh tone, she was highly distracted by the feel of his hand massaging her hip, his lips warm and soft on her neck.

A sound somewhere between a growl and a chuckle escaped him as he nuzzled her hair. "I certainly do. I think about it quite often, and in fact, you feature prominently in those thoughts. You're so lovely and persistent."

She felt her resolve wavering as her hand flew to his where it lay on her hip. "It is not polite to tease an old woman this way, Zevran."

" Teasing?" He sounded affronted. "I am not teasing you. You tease me!" His grip tightened temporarily. "You flounce about the camp, wearing robes -"

"I do not flounce!"

"- wearing robes that are skin tight, completely oblivious to your allure, or else completely uncaring. Do you know what that does to me? Do you know how many times I have lain in my tent, tormented by your nearness, left with nothing but my imagination and my own hand?"

Her entire body felt flushed at his words. "This cannot be true. What about Leliana... Morrigan... She bears enough flesh to appeal to anyone."

"And her attitude disperses my desire. I could have her, if I wanted. But you, Wynne, you are a mystery, one I hope to uncover."

She stopped fighting him and leaned back a bit. He was just barely taller than her, which she thought meant he was tall for his race. His kisses fluttered along her neck and shoulder as he began to unhook her fastenings and slide the garment down her arms. "I am old, Zevran," she said finally, defeated. "I am wrinkled and withered beneath this dress, my body is used up. Hardly what a young man like you would find to his liking. You will...you will realize your mistake and dismiss me."

He paused. "Is that why you reject me? You fear rejection yourself?"

She could not answer, though her mind screamed, Yes! Her chin fell as he stroked her arm gently.

His voice was a whisper as he began to remove her clothing again. "I will worship you, Wynne. You will never think of yourself that way again. I will show you the goddess you are." As his lips found her throat again, she felt her dress slip down to her waist. She closed her eyes, no longer having the will to resist. The last clasp came away and he pushed the cloth away. It came to a pile at her feet, leaving her in only her undergarments. "There now, doesn't this feel better?" he asked, pulling her against him again. His hand slipped under cloth, cupping her breast. "Oh, yes, I think so."

"Oh!" She gripped his hand and arched back. No one had touched her like this in years, perhaps even decades. She didn't think she could take it. "I can't... I can't..."

"You can. Just concentrated on the feelings, dearest."

It had been too long. Just his hand on her breast was driving her over the edge quickly. He picked her up and in two quick moves he had spread her robe on the ground and she was resting on it, his knee between her legs and his fingers tickling her nipple. She stifled her loud moans into his shoulder as she came quickly, wetting her underclothes, then collapsed, feeling warm tingling throughout her body.

"See? A goddess." He kissed her mouth for the first time, and she opened it willingly. Wynne was disappointed with herself momentarily; she would have swooned if she wasn't already on the ground. But then, she hadn't felt like this in too long, and couldn't stop herself. He tasted perfect, like a man, and the strength of his arms around her sent a thrill through her body. "A naughty goddess," he chuckled. He rose up and removed his shirt, then loosened the laces on his breeches.

Her fingers fumbled as she tried to assist him. "Not off yet please, just looser," he cautioned. "Let us not rush things."

She laughed out loud as he fell beside her. He kissed her again and again, stroking her lovingly. "You always rush things, Zevran. And now you want to slow down?"

"You do not hastily gulp down a fine wine, you savor it slowly, letting it roll around on your tongue sip by glorious sip." His eyes glowed next to her as he loosened her hair and it fell loose around her head, short but soft and silken. "And so much of you is still untasted."

"You're embarrassing me," she said, burying her face in his neck. She moved her hands up and down his stomach, admiring his muscles. She had never been with a warrior before, and the muscles on Zevran were new for her. She traced the lines with her fingers, feeling him shudder with the feather light touches.

Even in the dim light, the bulge in his breeches was obvious. It seemed incredible to Wynne that she was having this effect on him. She hadn't felt like a real woman in years, and now she was impatient. She reached down and stroked him through the cloth. With a groan, he pushed her hand away. "Let me pleasure you first."

She felt him releasing her breasts from the confines of her breast binder and felt self conscious as he looked down. Then she didn't have the capacity to feel anything but excitement as his mouth lavished her chest with kisses and nips and licks. She felt like she would never get enough of it. As his hand rubbed through the cloth to her core, she bucked up and came again, red and white flashing behind her eyes. She may have yelled his name, but she was much too relaxed to feel embarrassed afterwards.

"Have you always been so easy to bring to your climax, my dearest?" He asked, still gently stroking between her legs.

"Yes...I mean, no... I mean, I have always been...you know... but this is a bit more excessive than normal." She looked up, her brow creasing. "Why? Should I not be?"

"Oh, it is a pleasure to be with such a receptive partner, Wynne, to be sure. I suppose... I had hoped it was my prodigious skill more than a natural inclination." His face fell comically.

"You need no ego stroking from me on that count," she laughed.

He slid down her body and gently coaxed her to lift her hips so he could pull off her panties, then he tossed them aside and spread her legs, inhaling deeply. It seemed like everything was going to make her feel scared of rejection, and she suddenly was worried that she should have bathed. But h ow was she to know this was coming?

Just as she thought she might suggest they go to the nearby river together, he growled and dove down, his tongue entering her folds and stroking her closer and closer to oblivion again. His blond hair tickled her thighs, and she convulsed, more intensely this time. She was going to die from the pleasure of it, her legs shaking uncontrollably.

And then he was kissing her again, and she could taste herself on his lips, and it didn't disgust her like she thought it would. It was even arousing.

His breeches were done away with quickly and then he was inside her. She felt gloriously full, and gripped his rear to urge him forward. It felt so good after so long. How could she have denied herself this? But then, when had it been so wonderful as this?

She came again and again, and he just kept going on forever it seemed. She was below him, then on her hands and knees, then he was sitting with her on his lap. After what seemed like hours, he shivered, his hands tightening on her hips, and looked straight at her. "Come with me, my dear one. Look into my eyes." One hand dipped to her center and she managed to keep her eyes open somehow, looking at him as he grimaced and joined her in ecstasy.

As they both trembled with fatigue, he held her tightly to him. "That was..." she trailed off, feeling a bit silly trying to put words to the experience.

"...The best part of this quest so far," he finished for her.

"Yes."

He smirked.

She groaned. "I should never have said that."

"No, there is no reason to deny the truth. I agree."

Her face found his broad shoulder and kissed it, staying there for a moment. "So, now you know what it's like to be with me. I suppose the curiosity is sated."

His whole body stiffened suddenly. "Excuse me?"

"I mean..." She blushed as grabbed her arms and held her a few inches away so he could see her face. "You don't have to feel obligated to... do this again or anything."

" I don't."

Her heart stopped. "Oh. Good."

"But I enjoy the thought of having another illicit tryst with you, so I plan to anyway." The devilish smile was back again. "As often as possible."

She exhaled and felt her heart start beating again. "You will be the death of me."

"Only if you're very, very lucky, my dear."