Loghain leaned on the railing, looking over the city of Starkhaven as the ship – a mere river barge, really – approached the docks. It was, he had to admit, an impressive-looking collection of buildings. Almost all of it stone, both the local golden-beige sandstone, paler limestone from downriver, and every shade of slate and marble and granite imaginable. Impressive in that the use of stone wasn't limited solely to the royal palace and noble district at the top of the long slanted hill the city was built on, but that even the poorer quarters down near the river were built of stone or, at minimum, fired clay bricks.
It had not always been the case, he knew from his studying of the principalities' history. The older and most impressive-looking buildings at the top of the hill dated back to when this had been part of the Tevinter Imperium; that even the slums and working-class homes were of brick and stone was of far more recent occurrence, after a fire had swept through the city a little over a century before, reducing almost everything below the wall of the noble's quarter to smoking ruins, killing almost half of the city's population in the process. The city had rebuilt, and, at the decree of the then-Prince Vael – the grandfather of the current reigning Prince – had been rebuilt of materials that would not be conducive to such a great devastation ever happening again.
A pity the grandfather hadn't been more military-minded, Loghain found himself thinking; such a rebuilding would have been an excellent opportunity to rebuild the lower city so that it was easy to defend. Instead much of it was rebuilt in the same sprawling warrens of almost-indefensible houses, only the barest minimum of internal walls put up, and they simple dividing walls, not defensive structures themselves. Give him enough men and a few siege machines, and he was reasonably certain he could reduce the city in two week's time. Perhaps another week to take the castle at the top of the hill, which did have at least some proper defences.
A good thing for Starkhaven he was here as a mere diplomat, he thought, and smiled in amusement before going below-decks to see that everything was properly packed for their move from ship to inn.
Sebastian leaned back in his chair in the corner, toying with the half-empty glass on the table before him and watching the crowded bar. He'd been here most of the day already, and was already feeling bored, but he didn't feel like making his way back to the palace just yet. Especially not when he knew that he would be in trouble when he did return, his father having forbidden him to visit the taverns and brothels of the lower town.
Not that he cared much about his father's instructions and opinions. He'd heard the rumours, grown stronger since grandfather's death the year before; despite him being a son instead of the daughter they'd hoped for, his father was determined to see him sent off to the chantry, no matter how unsuited he obviously was for a cloistered life. Except, of course, that the more unsuited for it he'd shown himself to be, the more determined his father had become to force him into it. He was, he'd been told quite scathingly, bringing mockery and shame to the Vael name with his licentious behaviour and wastrel lifestyle. That would end, one way or another.
He'd long since stopped caring what his father or older brothers thought of him. Damn them... damn them all to the Black City, as far as he was concerned. They'd made it clear to him his entire life that he was not wanted, not needed, that he'd been a failure and a disappointment from the moment he was born. He should have been a girl, his older brother had informed him; a woman sent to the chantry would in time become a priest, and with a connection to the Vael family and the power they represented, eventually a Mother or Revered Mother, possible even higher. A girl would have been able to properly renew the Vael family's close ties with the Starkhaven chantry, bringing additional power and influence to them. Ties which had last been reinforced when their grandfather's youngest sister had taken vows, eventually rising to be Revered Mother of the City of Starkhaven and under consideration as a possibility for the next Grand Cleric of the Free Marches before dying at an unfortunately young age to heart attack.
A boy... a boy was worthless. At least one that was a mere third son. His brothers were certainly considered worthy enough. Hard to miss how much more worth his father assigned to them, when they received so much more attention, time, gifts...
He signalled to the bartender for another drink, and slouched in his seat, wishing his thoughts had not turned in such dark directions. He'd have few enough nights left to enjoy before he was packed off to the Chantry, there was no sense in making them into a misery on his own.
No.
No. Tonight, he would enjoy himself. He would not worry about his father's disapproval and censure until he returned home the next day, if he returned home the next day. He smiled, thinking of how incensed his father would be if he stayed away for several days again, as he had in the past, especially with some Ambassador from Ferelden due to arrive and needing to be officially entertained... then sighed, and decided against it. Too much provocation would not be wise. One night, then. Surely that much more time would not anger his father all that much more than he likely already was.
Motion near the door caught his eye. Someone walking in, and stopping a moment to survey the room before proceeding farther. A tall man, well-built and muscular, with long black hair, dressed in worn dark leathers that clung to him like a second skin. Handsome enough, in a craggy way. And older; middle-aged, at a guess, in his late thirties or early forties. He walked over to the bar, and Sebastian found his interest piqued by the way he moved; a confident walk, balanced, an aware walk, aware of everything going on in his surroundings. A guard or mercenary, he judged, and glimpsing the sword hung at the man's hip, a plain steel hilt wrapped in leather strips and sheathed in an equally plain scabbard of the same dark brown leather as the rest of his outfit, decided on mercenary. One of the smart ones, who cared more for quality of workmanship and the dependability of his gear than for gaudy flash.
The man, to his delight, moved to sit at an empty table just a couple of feet from Sebastian, flashing a single look his direction out of cool light blue eyes before turning his attention to the remainder of the room. He sat and watched the room, much as Sebastian himself had been doing, though much more attentively, his eyes watching faces, the movement of hands. Listening in on nearby conversations too, Sebastian guessed, by the slight cocking of his head.
The man had very nice hands, he found himself thinking, studying them as they lay quietly, wrapped loosely around the mug before him. Long blunt-ended fingers, the nails cut square, and nicely clean. His hair was clean too, neatly combed, his chin smooth from recent barbering. A fastidiously clean man, Sebastian decided, and smiled. He liked people who took proper care of themselves. There was something to be said for sharing his favours occasionally with some sweaty workman, hands rough and nails grimy and split from hard work, or some sour-scented blowsy dockside whore – if nothing else, he enjoyed it for how much rumours of such ill-suited companions of a night incensed his father – but there was also a certain enjoyment in sharing the pleasures of the bedchamber with someone who was clean and sweet-smelling and smooth all over. Well, perhaps not quite smooth, he though, thinking of how the man's sword-callused hands might feel against his own smooth skin, and shivered slightly before gulping back more of his own drink.
Loghain took another small sip of his ale – a quite pleasant one, almost surprisingly good considering how close to the poorer areas of the city this tavern was – and listened to the pair of merchants at the next table, talking of tariffs and taxes on the river trade. He was cautiously pleased with what he'd heard so far; it sounded like Starkhaven's prosperity was due more to the volume of trade it dealt with than from draconian taxes. A stable city, a reasonably happy populace, a bad history of their own with Orlesians that made them as cautious of Orlesian influence as Ferelden itself was... in other words, potentially a good trading partner for Ferelden to become involved with, though geographically the fit was not as good. Though there were at least a few things that were likely to be worth trading, even over such a great distant. And such goods didn't necessarily have to make the lengthy trip along the Minanter river; there were passes through the Vimmark mountains, and trade could travel north by mules and ox-carts as easily as by ships and barges, assuming they went ahead with trade agreements with Kirkwall and Ostwick, as seemed increasingly likely.
He felt eyes on him, and glanced to the side to find the youth slouched at the corner table studying him. Less than half his age, at a guess; it was possible he was simply a young-looking early twenties, but late teens seemed much more likely. Wearing clothes fine enough to make it clear he was most likely some variety of noble, or of very well-off merchant stock, though wrinkled and stained enough to show he'd cared little for them. Drinking, on his own, and with a look about him that Loghain could only think of as dissipated. He had rather astonishingly brilliant blue eyes, shoulder-length brown hair, and the sort of ruddy light brown complexion that most Fereldens could only accomplish by days of exposure to the summer sun, but which was the norm here in the north, shading to more of a golden-brown in Antiva and then an even darker brown in Rivain.
A rich young brat, in other words, and of no particular interest to Loghain. He returned his attention to the conversations going on around him, eventually finishing his drink – one could only nurse a single ale for so long before it would begin to draw the bartender's ire, and he preferred to finish before he became memorable – and then left.
He had not gone far before he became certain he was being followed. Whomever it was, it was no unskilled amateur that was after him; they stayed out of sight, and a casual attempt to lose them failed to remove them from his trail. Not that he could make much more than a casual attempt, being almost entirely unfamiliar with the city. He considered heading back uphill, where there were more guards about... but found himself curious as to who was following him, and why. He'd dressed down sufficiently to not seem a particularly worthwhile target, had not shown more than a few silvers in coin thus far this evening, spoken to no one, and as far as he knew was known by sight to only a comparative handful of people here outside of his own guards. There was, he supposed, an outside possibility that it was Orlesian agents, but a much more likely guess would be some petty thief taking a gamble that he had more money than he'd shown.
An ambush was what was needed, he decided, one by him, not of him, and kept an eye out for a suitable spot. He would likely have only one chance at it before his pursuer would be frightened off. Assuming it was someone sensible, anyway.
A few minutes later, he was standing quietly in a shadowed doorway on a deserted side-street, listening as foot-steps – only barely audible – moved nearer. He held his breath, then at the right moment stepped out, grabbing the figure and swinging them – him – backwards against the wall hard enough to drive the breath from him, knife at his throat, spotting and disarming him of a dagger at his belt in the next moment, letting it drop to the ground. Then took a closer look at him, and swore in disgust as he recognized the youth from the bar.
"You!" he exclaimed, then frowned. "Why are you following me?"
The youth smiled, ignoring the blade at his throat. "Why not? You interest me."
"Interest you?" Loghain asked, frown deepening. "In what way?"
The youth ran his eyes up and down Loghain in a very pointed way, or at least as far down as he could with a knife under his chin, then gave Loghain a look from under half-lowered lids. "Can't you guess?' he asked in what was clearly supposed to be a suggestive voice.
Loghain made a sound of disgust, then decided the youth was no danger and stepped away, returning his own dagger to the hidden sheath it had come from. "Idiot boy," he said. "I might well have slit your throat, thinking you a thief. Go to the brothels if you wish a catamite. Or to be one. I have no interests in either direction."
The boy tugged his tunic straight, chin lifting slightly. "I'd be at a brothel already if fucking some soft little whore was all I was interested in," he said calmly, not even flinching at his own vulgarity, then bent down to retrieve his dagger from the ground at his feet. He was also wearing a bow, Loghain saw, a reasonably well-made one. He had the shoulders for it, Loghain noted, though otherwise he tended to the scrawny side. Just finished a recent growth spurt, he guessed, seeing how the clothes weren't quite as perfect a fit for his length of arm and leg as you'd expect out of someone well-born. Perhaps not as well-off as Loghain had first guessed him to be, though still quite definitely a spoiled brat.
The youth sheathed his dagger as he straightened, then grinned amiably at Loghain, pushing his hair back from his face as he did so. His hand was trembling ever so slightly; not as unaffected by the ambush as he was trying to seem, then.
"Well, now that we've given each other a good scare, why don't you at least allow me to buy you a drink to make up for it?" he asked, and smiled charmingly.
Loghain started to tell him no, and then found himself feeling amused by the boy's manner. It reminded him of how composed Maric would often be, even in the middle of awkward or dangerous situations, only allowing himself to show any adverse reaction once he had some privacy. "Why not," he said, then frowned. "But nothing more than a drink."
"Of course," the youth said, and bowed politely to him. "Might I know your name? My own is Sebastian."
He barely hesitated before lying to the boy. Loghain was not a popular enough name here in the north for it to escape notice, not like in Ferelden where it had sometimes felt as if half the peasants in the kingdom were naming their sons after him. As, doubtless, this youth was named after one of the many Sebastians in the lineages of the local nobility. "Gareth," he said shortly; his father's name.
"Gareth," Sebastian said, and smiled warmly at him. "Do you have a preference about what to drink? You were having an ale at the tavern, I noticed. Though Starkhaven is better known for our wine and whiskey."
"Either would be fine, as would more ale. Good ale, anyway. The one at that tavern was acceptable."
Sebastian smiled again. "I know just the place," he said, and turned and walked away, not even looking back to be sure that Loghain was following him. He was – briefly – tempted to turn and go the other direction after all, but found himself amused again by the boy's confidence. And followed him, instead, to a different tavern several blocks away, higher on the hillside and with a correspondingly higher class of clientele.
Sebastian was clearly known there, exchanging casual greetings with a couple of people and stopping briefly at the bar before leading the way up a set of stairs to a long hallway lined with doors.
"I did say nothing more than a drink," Loghain reminded him.
Sebastian gave him another of those cheerful smiles. "These are booths, not rooms. A little more privacy, and an excellent view of the floor below," he explained, and opened one of the doors to reveal a small room, just a few paces in size, with a table and chairs by a railing overlooking the main floor of the tavern. Loghain hesitated, then stepped in and walked over to take a seat, looking with interest at the view of the patrons below, before glancing around at the other booths within view. Some were empty, some brightly lit, the people in them clearly visible. Others had a dark curtain drawn across their front, blocking the view of whomever was occupying them; clearly different levels of privacy could be obtained.
Their own booth was lit only by a candle in a glass holder on the table between them, the curtains drawn back. It was, he saw, a translucent fabric, and doubtless when drawn and with the candle out could still be seen through from their side of things. An interesting arrangement. He'd have to remember it, in case he met a less obvious and public use of the effect somewhere.
Sebastian leaned his bow in the corner, then flung himself down into the opposite chair, pushing his hair back from his face again as it flopped forward, and studied Loghain with a bright and interested look. "Sword, concealed dagger... with your build I'd taken you for a warrior, but the way you move, and the way you caught me... rogue?"
Loghain permitted himself a very small smile. "I've been both, in my time. Mostly a warrior, these days, though I've kept up my other skills."
"Interesting," Sebastian said, and leaned forward, arms folded on the edge of the table, smiling brightly again. "Pick pocketing?"
"No. None worth picking where I grew up, and my father would have tanned my hide if I've ever done so."
"Lock work?"
"No. Same reason. Poaching was fine, but not any real theft."
"Ah," Sebastian said. There was a soft knock at the door. "Come in!" he called out, not turning his eyes away from Loghain.
A waiter entered, with a bottle and two glasses, setting them down on the table. He quickly peeled off the wax covering the end of the bottle, then extracted the cork, pouring just a small amount into each glass before setting down the bottle, bowing briefly to Sebastian, and leaving.
Sebastian picked up his glass, and smiled toothily. "One of our better vintages," he said, then sipped at his drink before setting the glass back down again.
Loghain picked up his own, sniffing cautiously at the liquid. He'd only had whiskey a handful of times in his life, and couldn't have said whether this was good or bad whiskey. Not even after having sipped it. It was strong, and strongly flavoured, with a taste that made him think of peat fires more than anything else. He fought off the desire to cough after swallowing it, and took a second, equally cautious sip.
Sebastian toyed with his own glass, took another sip, then resumed his questioning. "Mercenary?"
"No."
"Soldier?"
"Of a sort," he said. Not even a lie; as General of the Armies of Ferelden he was technically a soldier as well.
"Of a sort. Are you any good with that sword?"
"Good enough," Loghain said. "And you? Are you any good with that bow?"
Sebastian grinned. "Good enough."
Loghain snorted, and took another sip, Sebastian doing the same. "How old are you, anyway? Seventeen? Eighteen?"
Another toothy smile. "Close. Nineteen. Almost twenty. And you?"
"Forty-two."
The smile widened. "I do so like older men," Sebastian said softly.
Loghain snorted again. "And I care for men not at all, other than as friends."
"A pity," Sebastian said, and leaned forward again, chin resting on one hand. "I bet I could change your mind, given half a chance."
Loghain gave him a baleful look. "I do not bet on such things."
"Not even for just a kiss?"
"You're persistent, I'll give you that. But not, however, in the least persuasive."
This time it was Sebastian that snorted, then sat back in his seat, tossing back the last of his drink before picking up the bottle and refilling his glass. He held the bottle up and raised his eyebrows enquiringly at Loghain. Loghain, after only the briefest hesitation, nodded and pushed his glass across to be topped up, surprised to realize he was enjoying himself. It had been a long time since someone of either sex had made it clear they found him attractive. He was too intimidating, he supposed. Despite his own lack of interest in men for sexual gratification, it was... oddly flattering, to have the younger man's focused attention.
"My turn," he said, leaning back in his own chair, arms crossed and glass held lightly in one hand, studying the youth again. "By your clothing I'd assume you're a noble."
"Yes."
"A noble, but one not unfamiliar with sneaking about. A disobedient son?"
"Yes," again, with a wide grin.
Loghain snorted. "A younger son?"
A wrinkled nose, this time. "Yes," with an edge to it.
"An unhappy younger son, then. Does your family expect too much of you, or not enough?"
Sebastian's face went cold and hard for a moment, his hand tightening visibly on his own glass. "Both," he said, and took a large swallow of his drink. "Can we talk about something else?"
Loghain's eyebrows rose slightly. Clearly a painful subject for the young man. "I suppose so," he agreed. "How long have you been using a bow?"
"Since I was a child," Sebastian said, relaxing again, the charming smile returning. "Not that exact bow, of course. My grandfather started me off with one when I was five or six years of age. Have you ever used one?"
Loghain smiled, remembering his own early years, poaching game with his father, and then later, in the Night Elves. "A time or two, yes," he agreed.
Sebastian's eyes lit up. "Perhaps you'd be up for a little target shooting, then?"
"In the middle of the night?"
"Hardly the middle yet. Anyway, I know a few places well-enough lit that we should be able to shoot even at this time of night," he said, then frowned. "Except you don't have a bow."
"I suppose we could take turns with yours; it looks close enough in size and type to what I normally use back home. May I try the draw?"
"Go ahead," Sebastian said, and gestured toward it.
The draw was lighter than he was used to, but apart from that it seemed a suitable weapon. "All right," Loghain agreed. "A few shots, if you can indeed lead us to some place where we may safely take them."
"Excellent," Sebastian said. "I know just the place."
He finished his glass first, as did Sebastian, the boy tossing a few coins on the table and taking the bottle with them, after carefully re-corking it. Sebastian took the lead again, downstairs and back out into the street, then leading them on a twisty path using both main streets and back alleys until he reached a large brightly-lit building. "Coaching inn," he explained as he led the way around to the back of it, as if that explained everything.
There was a stables in back, and a large cobbled yard, as brightly lit as the inn itself. "Wait here," Sebastian said, and walked over to lean in the door of the stable, calling out to someone inside. Loghain couldn't hear the conversation that ensued, but saw money and the bottle of whiskey change hands before Sebastian returned, looking pleased with himself.
"We can use the small yard for a while. It's over an hour until the next coach is due in," he explained, and led the way through an archway into a second yard, not as brightly lighted, most of it taken up by a long open-front shed with several coaches and carriages visible within it. A pair of doors at one end of the yard led into a different part of the stable, and a stable-hand or groom of some sort was just carrying out a bale of hay. Within minutes he'd set up a small stack of them, and from somewhere fetched a pair of lanterns, lighting them and placing them on the ground near the stack, a little to either side, so that the target, at least, was well-lit. He raised one hand in their direction, then disappeared back indoors, the doors shutting behind him.
"We need a more specific target than that," Loghain pointed out.
Sebastian nodded, and produced a handkerchief, folding it in quarters before walking over and tucking one corner into the hay bale, the rest of it dangling free in a shape not unlike an upwards-pointing arrowhead. "The point can be our target," he said as he walked back. "Would you like some practise shots, since you're not used to this bow?"
"Certainly," Loghain said. "Three or four should do it."
Sebastian nodded, handing over the bow and quiver, then stepped back. Loghain took his time, partially drawing and releasing the bow a time or two to get used to the pull of it, before finally taking an arrow out of the quiver, nodding in approval at how finely made it was. He drew and shot, and frowned at how far from the target the arrow had sunk in the bale. He adjusted his aim on the next shot, and again on the third, which pierced the bale within a tolerable distance of the mark, though still far from satisfactory compared to his usual standard. Good enough when working with a strange bow, at least.
They did a few rounds of target shooting after that, each of them shooting three arrows. Sebastian proved to be quite good with the bow, and won the first two rounds. Loghain, growing accustomed to the bow, won the next three.
"You're good," Sebastian said approvingly as they were retrieving the arrows again.
"Comes of regular practice and years of use. I've been using a bow since before you were born," Loghain pointed out.
Sebastian grinned. "Oh? Care to make a few wagers then, old man?"
Loghain's eyebrows rose slightly at that. He snorted. "Depends on the wager," he finally said.
Sebastian's grin widened. "Oh, how about... if I win, I get to kiss you. Just a kiss, nothing more."
"No," Loghain said flatly.
"You don't believe you can beat me, then?"
He frowned. "No, I just prefer not to bet on such matters. As, I'm sure, I told you earlier."
The boy pouted. Actually pouted, plump lower lip jutting outwards, and gave Loghain another of those half-lidded looks.
Loghain laughed at the absurdity of it. "All right. One round. And if I win, that's the end of it, and you never raise the issue to me again."
"Done," Sebastian said.
Sebastian shot first. His cluster was much tighter than in any of the preceding rounds, the second shot very close to the target point, and Loghain scowled, beginning to suspect the boy had purposefully undershot his best before suggesting the bet. Too late to back out now, however, though he frowned at Sebastian as he accepted the bow and quiver from him.
He shot slowly and carefully, making just as tight a cluster. They walked over and stood, staring. After a moment Loghain drew a length of leather thong out of his belt pouch, and used it to measure the distance to the two closest arrows. "A tie," he pronounced. "Or so close to one that I can't measure any difference."
"Shall we shoot again, then? Or do you prefer to withdraw now?" Sebastian asked, giving him a challenging look.
Loghain hesitated, and chewed his lower lip for a moment. "Shoot again. One arrow each."
Sebastian nodded, seeming pleased that Loghain had not taken advantage of the tie to end their bet. "Good. Shall I go first again, or you, seeing as you still have the bow?"
"I'll go," Loghain said, and removed the arrows from the target before returning to the spot they'd been shooting from. He took his time, carefully gauging the shot, carefully aiming and firing. And smiled, as the arrow sunk into the target not even a finger's width away from the point of the handkerchief.
Sebastian cursed, then smiled as he accepted the bow and arrows. "Good shot," he said. He was even more methodical in taking his own shot, rejecting two arrows before finding one he was satisfied with, nocking it, standing and studying the target for a few breaths before finally raising the bow, drawing, aiming... held it a heartbeat, then released.
The arrow sunk into the point of the handkerchief, sinking it deeper into the bale. Sebastian gave a small whoop, and grinned quite happily at Loghain; even more pleased by having made the shot than by having won, Loghain judged. "Well shot," he said, and walked over to the recover the arrows and the bedraggled handkerchief.
Sebastian followed him over. "So, about that kiss...?"
Loghain sighed. "Very well," he said, and help up a finger warningly. "One kiss. No touching below the shoulders."
Sebastian grinned, then stepped closer. He was a little shorter than Loghain, and reached up to cup his hands to either side of Loghain's head, drawing him down.
Loghain kept himself purposefully impassive, mouth obdurately closed, as the boy kissed him. No brief kiss, either, but a lengthy one, the length of his body pressing tightly against Loghain, fingers knotting into his hair, surprising warm and soft lips against his. Had he been a woman... well. Had Sebastian been a woman, Loghain thought he would have quite thoroughly enjoyed the kiss. And possibly opened his mouth to it, especially given the hungry way Sebastian was sucking and nipping at his lower lip, then tonguing at his lips, trying to force the issue. And possibly he'd even have brought his own hands into play, rather then keeping them safely together behind his back.
Sebastian finally ended the kiss, letting his hands drop to rest on Loghain's shoulders, drawing back only a few inches to study Loghain's face. "Damn," he said softly after a moment, and stepped back further, letting his hands drop to his side. "I was sure that would work."
Loghain smiled at him in unexpected good humour. "Certainly a valiant effort," he agreed. "But as I told you, I have no interest in that direction."
Sebastian grinned. "I hope you don't blame me for trying?"
"Not at all."
"Well, I suppose we'd best restore these hay bales to their rightful place," Sebastian said, and stepped past Loghain, opening the stable door before turning back to lift one and carry it within.
Loghain put aside the bow and quiver, and lifted a bale onto his shoulder, carrying it in with ease. Sebastian was just putting his one down on a stack of bales in a box stall half-filled with them, and smiled warmly at Loghain as he slipped out past him. They soon had everything back where it belonged, Sebastian retrieving his bow and arrows, and blowing out and putting away the lamps while as Loghain carried the last couple of bales indoors. He turned to find that the youth had followed him inside, and was standing in the door of the stall, one arm raised to lean against the frame.
"So where are you from? That's a Ferelden accent, isn't it?" Sebastian asked. Clearly he did not want the end of their target shooting to signal the end of their conversation.
Loghain nodded. "Yes, I'm from Ferelden," he agreed. No sense in denying it.
"What's it like there? I've heard it's cold. And wet."
Loghain smiled softly. "What's it like? Wet enough, I suppose, and cold compared to here, though not if you're used to it. I'd rather have the cold than the heat, anyway... you can always put on another layer of clothing, but there's only so much you can take off and maintain decency."
Sebastian flashed him a brief, amused smile. "And that's important to you, is it? Maintaining decency?"
"I suppose it is," Loghain agreed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. "A man looks a fool for flouting convention without reason."
Sebastian winced. "I suppose that makes me a fool then," he said cheerfully, and moved to sit down on one of the bales of hay.
"Why do you do it?" Loghain asked him curiously. "Surely not entirely because of your family?"
Sebastian frowned, then shrugged. "That was the most of it, at first. But... I enjoy it. Not just the more obviously pleasurable parts of it, like the drinking and gambling and sleeping around, but..." He stopped, frowned, and shifted position, hands clasped in his lap, a thoughtful look on his face. "Meeting people I'd otherwise never know. Getting glimpses of their lives. Dockworkers, whores of both sexes, shopkeepers in little hole-in-the-wall places, unlicensed taverns selling rotgut, apostate mages, sailors, farmers, craftsmen of every guild imaginable and a few I'd never have even thought existed if not for meeting members of them. Did you know there's even a guild for the people who keep the sewers flowing properly?"
Loghain snorted, then smiled, moving to take a more comfortable seat himself. "It sounds like you like people."
"I suppose I do," Sebastian agreed. "Anyway, tell me more of Ferelden. Other than cold and wet, what's it like there?"
So Loghain told him. It took a while; he loved his country, and was able to talk at some length about it. Sebastian was an attentive and surprisingly interested audience, and even asked some reasonably intelligent questions, enough to show that he had a sound grasp of politics and economics, at least.
At one point Loghain found his throat going dry. Sebastian left for a little while, returning with a large ceramic jar of reasonably potable small beer that they passed back and forth, drinking from it in turn Loghain was surprised to realize he was very much enjoying himself, as their conversation wandered from Ferelden to archery, both of them sprawled out on their sides on top of the stack of hay bales now, it being easier to share the jug that way.
Loghain eventually picked up the jug only to find there was just a swallow left. "Well, I suppose that's the end," he said, and yawned. "It's late." Certainly past midnight by now, if he was any judge.
Sebastian nodded, then smiled crookedly at him. "I don't suppose you'd allow me to kiss you again?" he asked, his voice wistful.
Loghain laughed. "Maker, you're persistent. All right, why not. Though it still won't do you any goo..."
Sebastian cut off his words by leaning forward and kissing him, catching him with his mouth still open. Loghain froze for a moment, startled, then chuckled softly at Sebastian's sound use of tactics. Sebastian shifted closer, one hand threading into Loghain's hair, the other moving the jug out of the way so that he could press himself right up against Loghain again.
It was a very good kiss, lengthy and tender, with just enough use of tongue. He felt himself responding physically despite his best intentions. He might have no real interest in sleeping with another man, but his body apparently was entertaining some ideas of its own about just what should follow such a devastating kiss.
Nor was Sebastian oblivious to his reaction. The boy chuckled briefly, hands cupping Loghain's head as he tilted it to a better angle, deepening the kiss. He shifted position slightly, moving so that one of his thighs was pressing against Loghain's groin, a definite hardness of his own against Loghain's thigh. Loghain gasped, jerking his head back. "I'd said no touching below the belt," he pointed out, flushing at the breathlessness of his own voice.
Sebastian grinned. "My hands are still above your shoulders," he pointed out, then leaned forward, pursuing a continuation of the kiss.
Loghain allowed it. He wished he could blame the drink for it... but the ale and whiskey had been hours ago, and no one got drunk on small beer. Not unless they drank it by the barrelful rather than the glass; one small jug certainly wasn't enough.
Drunk on the night, perhaps, which so far had been very enjoyable. Drunk on kisses, certainly, his eyes drifting shut and head tilting backwards as Sebastian moved from kissing his lips to nuzzling at his jaw-line, before kissing his way down Loghain's throat. His breath was coming short now, toes curling tightly within his boots, and his leggings were rapidly becoming rather uncomfortably tight.
"Enough," he croaked out at last, pushing Sebastian gently away.
Sebastian didn't protest, but merely rolled away, and raked a heated look along the length of Loghain's body. "No interest at all? Parts of you seem to be disagreeing," he said.
Loghain snorted, then pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring how it made his leggings pinch a little at tender flesh. "You are a very good kisser, I'll give you that," he said, then began shifting his way toward the edge of the stacked bales. "But still... no."
Sebastian grinned, and shrugged, then rolled over and slipped easily down off the bales, dusting himself off and straightening his clothes. "It's been an entertaining evening, anyway."
Loghain smiled crookedly as he dropped to the floor. "That it has," he agreed. "Enjoyable, too." That won him another of those brief grins from Sebastian. "Even before that final kiss," he said severely.
"Of course," Sebastian said, and turned to lean against the bales for a moment, making a long arm to retrieve the empty jug. "I'd better not leave this here, or one of the grooms will end up blamed for its presence," he said.
They left the stable, back out to the small yard, then through the archway to the larger one, still just as brightly lit as before. Sebastian paused for a moment to open a door and lean into the inn, exchanging a few words with someone inside and passing them the jug before continuing on, taking a few longs strides to fall in by Loghain's side.
"So, in which direction are you headed?" he asked.
"Uphill," Loghain said shortly.
"Myself as well. I'll walk with you, if you don't mind, at least until we reach the noble district; at this time of night, it's unsafe to walk alone outside of it, and only middling-safe within."
Loghain grunted acknowledgement. They walked along in silence for a little while, Loghain lost in thought. The kiss kept returning to his thoughts. How good it had felt; how he'd found himself responding to it despite himself. The feel of Sebastian pressed up against him, the pressure of his thigh against Loghain's groin... an unwise direction for his thoughts, he realized, feeling himself begin to stir in response again. Damn. He snuck a glance at Sebastian, watching him push back his wayward hair again. Wondering... wondering what it would be like, to sleep with another man. He'd heard it was enjoyable, he's simply never been interested. Now... now he found himself wondering about the mechanics of it.
Surely some parts would be little different than doing it with a woman; no more different than the kiss had been. The use of hands, or mouth, should be the same. He glanced again at Sebastian, wondering what it would feel like to have those plump, kiss-swollen lips wrapped around him, and flushing in embarrassed arousal at the thought. He tore his eyes away. He tried to tell himself that it was just that it was so long since he'd last had any company but his own hand. True, he's accompanied Maric to brothels more than once, but he'd always stayed out in the main room, nursing a drink, preferring to remain on unofficial guard rather than making use of the whores.
And now... one of the gates through the wall surrounding the noble's quarter was visible ahead of them. It would not be all that much longer until he and Sebastian parted ways, unlikely to ever cross paths again. The temptation would be safely put behind him...
He stopped. "Sebastian," he said. The young man turned and looked questioningly at him.
"Yes?"
For the second time that night, he found himself pushing Sebastian hard up against a wall. Only this time it was not a knife he put to that long smooth-skinned throat, but his own lips, kissing hungrily against warm flesh.
Sebastian gave a short, surprised laugh, then his hands rose and tangled in Loghain's hair, gently pushing him away. He studied Loghain's face, then smiled, looking pleased with himself. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You seemed pretty certain that this wasn't what you wanted."
Loghain felt oddly touched that the man was giving him a chance to back out, after working so hard to get him interested in the first place. Whatever remaining fear he had melted away, and he found himself smiling warmly at the youth. "I'm sure," he said.
Sebastian drew him back down into another kiss, a lengthy and quite heated one. By the end of it his thigh was pressed between Loghain's legs again, Loghain's hands pressed flat against his back. Loghain felt light-headed, and just a little apprehensive. "Where...?" he asked.
Sebastian smiled. "Given that you don't like flouting convention, I have a feeling you'd prefer somewhere other than up against the wall in an alley. I have a place, not far from here... very discrete."
Loghain nodded. "Discrete is good," he agreed.
"Then this way," Sebastian said, and slipped free of him, leading the way at a much faster pace than his earlier stroll, back down the hill a little way and along a side street, finally stopping upon reaching a tall, narrow building. "Another inn," he explained. "I keep a room here."
He produced a key, with which he let the two of them in a side door of the building, locking it again behind them before leading the way up a narrow staircase and along a short hallway, both dimly lit with wide-spread night candles, before producing a second key and unlocking another door. Loghain's earlier unease had returned, little assuaged by stepping into the room to find that a very large four-poster bed was taking up most of the floor space. He stood by the door, looking uneasily around, as Sebastian plucked an unlit candle from a holder on a small shelf by the door, and ducked back out into the hallway to light it. When he returned he made his way around the room, lighting a pair of lanterns on small tables to either side of the bed before pinching out the candle and returning it to the holder.
There was the bed, the tables, a large and well-padded wing-back chair and a smaller plain straight-backed wooden chair near the currently unlit fireplace, and a large rug made of fleeces as the sum total of visible furnishings. There was another door in one wall; open, showing a bit of what he guessed to be a bathing chamber, based on the glimpse it gave of the furnishings within.
Sebastian smiled at him, then walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. "As you're not experienced, I think we should start off very slowly," he said, and patted the edge of the bed beside him. "Why don't you come over here?"
Loghain swallowed his nervousness, and did so, lowering himself to perch on the very edge of the bed. For a moment the two of them just sat, not touching, not talking, just looking at each other.
"I want very much to touch you, Gareth," Sebastian said quietly after a while. "May I?"
Loghain swallowed again, unnerved by hearing himself called by his father's name, then nodded, and flushed at the realization of how shaky he felt. Maker... a good twenty years since he'd last been a virgin, but he felt as shy and hesitant as one tonight.
Sebastian moved slowly, reaching out to rest his hand flat against Loghain's chest, then letting his hand drift lower, fingertips running caressingly along the leather armour he was wearing. Loghain shivered. Sebastian leaned closer, letting his other hand come to rest on Loghain's shoulder, thumb stroking lightly against the skin of his throat. Loghain swallowed, then swallowed again as the first hand made its way back upwards.
"I'm going to undress you," Sebastian said calmly, quietly, and then began to do just that, fingers carefully unbuckling straps, untying and loosening laces, undoing buttons, until with just a little co-operation from Loghain he was able to draw off first his jacket, and then the lightweight linen shirt worn beneath. He paused, looking appreciatively at Loghain, then met his eyes and smiled.
Sebastian ran his eyes over Gareth. What was underneath the armour proved every bit as well-shaped as he'd thought. The man clearly kept fit, and didn't overindulge, his stomach flat, his arms quite nicely muscular. A warrior, he'd said; sword and shield his usual combination, Sebastian guessed, both arms being about equally developed, perhaps just slightly more so on the left. Nice broad shoulders too, and just the slightest salting of grey in the mat of dark hairs covering his chest and stomach, the trail of them disappearing beneath the waistband of his leggings. Forty-two, he'd said? If not for the grey hairs, Sebastian would have judged him younger. Though the hair on his head was an untouched black. He wondered if the man was perhaps a little vain, just enough to pluck out any he found there.
He shifted position, turning so that he was kneeling beside Gareth, and smiled reassuringly at him, before setting his hands on those wonderfully broad shoulders, and leaning forward to kiss him. The man permitted it again; welcomed it, even, his mouth falling easily open to Sebastian's. Though this time when Sebastian withdrew his tongue, Gareth's followed after, slipping into his own mouth, tasting and testing. Gareth's hands rose, one tangling in Sebastian's hair, the other slipping along his side to his back and then up, pressing warm and firm against one side of Sebastian's upper back. Sebastian finally ended their kiss, and then pushed lightly on Gareth's shoulders.
Gareth lay back easily, face calm but a little flushed, those pale blue eyes studying Sebastian's face almost warily, then smiled, and relaxed, the tension draining out of his body. Nervous, but overcoming it easily. Sebastian liked that; liked especially how the man, who'd been so confident and self-assured earlier, was so hesitant now. It was, he'd often felt, once of the best parts of bedding an inexperienced partner; introducing them to the pleasures that could be had, seeing them change from uncertain, even frightened, to enthralled and excited, an active participant. That is was an older man he was getting to initiate made it even better; they tended to be either quite decidedly set in their ways already, as Gareth had first seemed to be before that stunning change of mind, or already quite, quite experienced.
He leaned down, kissing Gareth again, not on the lips this time but on the cheeks, the chin – both smooth earlier, but already going rough with stubble – then down the side of his neck. He lapped briefly at the arch and join of Gareth's collarbones, then worked his way lower yet, first licking and then tonguing at one of his nipples, so enticingly exposed in its little bare patch among the thatch of chest hairs. Gareth's reaction to that was wonderful, the man sucking in air audibly as his neck and back arched, stomach dipping sharply inwards as muscles involuntarily tightened in sudden response. Sensitive there, it seemed, so that Sebastian happily spent a little time on them, lapping and teasing, nipping gently once or twice. He let his hands roam, in the meantime, stroking and petting motions at Gareth's shoulders, arms, sides, catching little glimpses of the flush of arousal spreading down from Gareth's face to tinge neck, shoulders, upper arms and chest.
Finally he reached further down and palmed his hand across the leather stretched taut over Gareth's erection. The man cried out, hips jerking upwards. Sebastian smiled, and sat up enough that he could undo the laces, tug leggings and smalls down enough to expose Gareth down to his knees, the man's erection jumping sharply erect as it was freed from the confining clothes.
Gareth was panting noisily, his hands clenched tightly on the bed clothes, pupils enlarged with his excitement. Sebastian palmed his hand over him again, flesh of palm across softer, velvety skin, drawing a cry and another jerk of hips from him. Sebastian leaned down and kissed him on the mouth again, just a short kiss, a tender one, meant to be reassuring, before he slid down to kneel on the floor by the bed. He quickly stripped off the remainder of Gareth's clothes, then pressed his legs apart with a hand on each thigh, just above the knee, before shuffling forward and leaning down enough to close his mouth around the tip of the man's erection.
Loghain cried out in shocked pleasure as warm, moist heat enveloped him, hands knotted so tightly into the bedding now that it was making his fingers ache. Though not as much or as sweetly as he ached further down, painfully erect in his excitement. Sebastian mouthed and tongued at him, then drew back again, mouth coming free with a faint pop. Loghain found himself making a brief needy sound, a sound of loss. Sebastian's right hand squeezed his thigh, then his mouth returned, not around the tip now, but lipping at the side of the shaft, Sebastian's tongue tracing ticklish little circles against his skin. He moan at the sensation.
He's been sucked off before, but never had he felt so exquisitely aware of the sensations of it. At least not since the very first time, so long ago now. He cried out again as Sebastian licked wetly up the underside of his cock, at the warm wetness of it, and again as he tongued at the sensitive area just below the head, then at the slit in the tip before once again closing his mouth over the end. Sebastian lowered his head further, taking in more of his length, then drew back his head again, sucking as he did so, tonguing at the end before lowering his head again.
The sounds he himself was making were embarrassing him, and yet he could no more have stayed silent now than he could have stayed still, hips jerking as Sebastian's mouth worked over him, only the firm grip the noble had on his thighs keeping him from thrusting outright into that mouth. And then Sebastian shifted position, rising up off his knees, head dipping even lower, until the head of Loghain's cock pressed against the back of his throat. Surely, surely that could not be at all comfortable... but Sebastian did not gag, instead swallowing as his head dipped even lower, and to his astonishment Loghain found himself sliding deeper into his throat, Sebastian's head lowering steadily down until his nose was pressed into the nest of curls around the base of Loghain's erection.
Sebastian swallowed, the muscles of his throat tightening around Loghain, then he slowly withdrew his head, cheeks hollowing as he sucked, tongue working against the underside of Loghain's shaft. He breathed in deeply through the nose, and then lowered down again, swallowing at just the right moment to maintain a steady glide over Loghain's aching flesh. And swallowed again, and again.
It was too much. Loghain felt his balls tighten, Sebastian quickly pulling his head back, sucking strongly again. He gave a sobbing cry, and came, shaking and jerking with the force of it. Sebastian kept his tip enveloped, sucking rhythmically, Loghain's orgasm going on and on for far longer than he'd have thought possible. He stilled, eventually, cock going limp, then slipping wetly from Sebastian's mouth as the youth sat up, smiling even as he wiped at his mouth with the back of one hand, lips swollen and reddened and wet.
"How was that?" Sebastian asked after a minute.
Loghain laughed, softly. "Stunning."
Sebastian smiled, and rose to sit on the edge of the bed again. Loghain was content to just lie there motionless while the youth looked him over. Then frowned; here he was, entirely naked and quite, quite spent, while Sebastian was still fully dressed, and judging by the bulge at his crotch... not at all taken care of yet. "Shouldn't this be reciprocal?" he asked, and made a small gesture with the fingers of one hand to indicate what he was referring too.
Sebastian grinned, looking pleased. "Yes. Though you'll need at least a brief rest before we go a second round."
"A second round? I most certainly will need a rest, and I'm not entirely sure I can."
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Doubting my skills? I do know a trick or two or three to raise flagging spirits."
Loghain gave a short bark of laughter. "I'm no spirit. Though definitely flagging at the moment."
"I'll fix that in a little while. For now... how would you like a massage?"
Loghain's eyebrows rose. "I suppose I have no objection."
"Over on your stomach then," Sebastian said, rising to his feet. "All the way on the bed. You might find it most comfortable if you put one of the pillows under your head or upper chest."
Loghain nodded, and managed to sit up, and move so that he was stretched out face-down on the bed, one of the pillows placed where his upper chest and folded arms could rest comfortably on it. He turned his head to find that Sebastian, meanwhile, had stripped out of most of his own clothing, leaving him dressed in a just a pair of tented and noticeably damp smalls. Loghain hastily turned his head away, left with an impression of a fit if somewhat skinny body, archer's shoulders, a trim waist, and lots of light brown skin, just a shade or two paler where it had been covered by clothing.
The mattress sagged and dipped as Sebastian crawled up onto the bed as well. There was a faint popping sound, as of a cork being removed from a container, and then a line of cool liquid was drizzled down his back, making him start.
"Sorry," Sebastian said quietly. The bed shifted again as Sebastian leaned to one side – by the sound of it, putting down the container on one of the tables by the bed – and then moved to lean over Loghain, his hands moving to spread out the oil. He shifted again, moving to massage Loghain's neck and shoulders, and Loghain sighed in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut.
At some point he must have dozed off, or at least entered a state of mind where he was drifting, no longer paying attention to anything but the deep sense of relaxation he felt as Sebastian slowly worked his way down Loghain's back and up again. It was rather reminiscent of that heavy feeling he sometimes had on first awakening, on days when there was no need for him to immediately get out of bed. A weighted lassitude, so that he had no desire to move, but instead was quite satisfied to just lie there and wander back and forth between not-entirely-awake and not-quite-asleep.
It was only some time after Sebastian had moved to straddle his legs, working his way from thighs down to ankles and back up, before shifting to work on his shoulders and neck again, that Loghain dimly realized that at some point the youth had removed his smalls as well. And that there was a rather definite something pressing against his buttocks, rubbing back and forth as Sebastian's weight shifted.
And just like that, he found himself hardening again. And very much awake.
Sebastian chuckled softly. "Back with us?"
Loghain snorted, turning his head to try and look back over his shoulder at him. "Yes, and apparently in functioning order after all. Now what?"
"Now you're going to turn over, and I'm going to do a little bit of rather specialized massage, and then you'll see," Sebastian said, sounding more than a little smug as he moved to kneel beside Loghain again. "Make yourself comfortable, you'll be on your back for a while.
Loghain grunted, then turned over, shifting himself and the pillows around so that he was reclined with his head and shoulders raised a little. He watched with interest, and just a little apprehension, as Sebastian poured a little more oil into one hand, then rubbed his hands together, liberally coating them with oil. He reached out and closed one hand around Loghain's beginning erection, and began to work his hand up and down, coating him with oil while making him harden further.
His other hand... Loghain stared wide-eyed as Sebastian arched backwards, his other hand reaching down in back of himself; preparing himself, he realized. Sebastian had a look of concentration on his face. His erection flagged briefly, then he gasped and twitched, and it slowly firmed again. For a couple of minutes the only sounds were the slide of oiled flesh against flesh, and the little gasps and bitten-off sounds Sebastian was making as he stretched and oiled himself. Loghain flushed bright red, as much from fascinated embarrassment as arousal.
Sebastian finally withdrew his hand, taking up the container of oil one last time to drizzle a little extra over Loghain's cock, then moved to straddle him again, giving Loghain as crooked smile as he carefully positioned Loghain's erection and then slowly lowered himself onto it. There was just a brief resistance, and then Loghain found himself sliding inside of the youth. Dryer than a women, even with the aid of copious amounts of oil. Tighter, as well, and surprisingly hot. Sebastian's erection dropped to half-mast, the youth biting his lip and looking pained for a moment as he settled lower and lower. Finally he stopped, and just held himself still, bracing himself upright with his hands pressed flat against Loghain's chest. And smiled at Loghain.
"Just a little uncomfortable at first," he explained a little breathlessly. "But it will feel very, very good shortly... for both of us."
The heated tightness eased off a little, Sebastian's muscles relaxing around him. Then Sebastian gave a little roll of of his hips, drawing a gasp from Loghain. Sebastian grinned. "Like that?"
Loghain could only nod, his hands lifting to grasp Sebastian's waist as Sebastian began a slow rolling movement. The youth shifted his position slightly, then shifted it again, and gave a soft gasp of his own on his next roll, his cock twitching visibly as it began to harden again. Clearly this was something that was as enjoyable for him as it was for Loghain, though Loghain couldn't begin to imagine why. It became even more enjoyable for him as Sebastian sifted position again, then began to ride him more energetically, face contorting in pleasure and little cries escaping him. Loghain began thrusting in counterpoint with him, to aid the slide of flesh within flesh. Not the best of positions for it, at least until he bent his knees a little, setting his feet flat on the mattress, giving himself much better leverage for thrusting upwards. He was soon bathed in sweat and gasping for air, and making more than a few loud sounds of enjoyment himself. It no longer embarrassed him to do so, or at least not as much; not when Sebastian was making it very vocally clear just how thoroughly he was enjoying things.
He could only stare as Sebastian arched backwards, his pace picking up even further, face contorting in pleasure and flushed red with arousal, sweat visible from the exertion of his movements. Loghain knew he was drawing near his own peak, his fingers tightening bruisingly on Sebastian's hips as he rocked up into him, thrusting hard.
Sebastian took his own erection in hand, pumping into his closed fist even as he pumped himself against Loghain. Every thrust drew an outcry from him, and then he arched even further backwards, calling out hoarsely as semen spurted out across his hand, and Loghain's stomach and chest. The feeling of Sebastian clenching tightly as he came made Loghain cry out, near to coming himself, though not quite there.
Sebastian slowed as his own orgasm ended. Loghain growled in frustration, then shifted his grip on Sebastian, and moved, rolling the two of them over. Sebastian co-operated, his long legs locking tightly around Loghain, smiling and giving a weak laugh as Loghain struggled to find the right angle, then obligingly curled himself up a little and tugged on Loghain's shoulders, guiding him into the right position. Sebastian gasped and moaned as Loghain pounded into him, then pulled him down into a heated kiss. That did it. Loghain moaned and ended the kiss, quickly moving to bite down on Sebastian's shoulder to muffle his own outcry as he too came at last, collapsing limply on top of the younger man as he finished.
Sebastian laughed; not a mocking sound, but full of delight, his arms wrapping tightly around Loghain, hugging him hard. "Tired?" Sebastian asked.
"Oh Maker, yes," Loghain said into the curve of his neck.
Sebastian squeezed him again, then began to wiggle out from under him. "Rest a little," Sebastian said, his touch gentle as he moved them apart, Loghain slipping free of him with an obscenely wet sound. "I'll look after you."
Loghain snorted, but was feeling too dazed – too tired, too sated – to argue. He slumped against the bed, returning to that almost-sleeping state he'd been in during much of the earlier massage, only barely conscious of the sounds of Sebastian rising, of water being poured, of the sounds of the other man washing, the scent of fine soap.
He felt the bed sag as Sebastian sat down beside him, then a cool, damp cloth being run over his skin, and sighed in contentment. He lay there limply except when Sebastian quietly urged him to turn over, once so that he could wash his front as well, and then a little later so he could strip the stained top sheet from the bed. Then a third time, rolling him onto his side, Sebastian hands running over his skin afterwards, warm and dry, exploring the shape of him.
"You've lived a hard life," he said, fingers tracing a deep scar along Loghain's side.
"I suppose I have," Loghain agreed, and yawned, wanting only to sleep.
Sebastian's hands continued moving over him, gently, entirely unlike the earlier massage, though equally as pleasant. Long, soothing stokes along side and back, down the length of Loghain's legs and up again, then gentle pressure in back of the knee of his uppermost leg, until he folded it up and to the side. And gasped, as Sebastian's hand next slipped between his legs, fingers brushing across the sensitive skin in back of his balls, before closing around them and massaging gently.
"What are you..." he began to ask, then broke off to gasp again as Sebastian's other hand reached around his thigh, closing on his length and beginning a slow stroking motion. "You're mad if you think I have a third time in me," he growled. "We're not all as energetic as randy teenagers, you know."
Sebastian laughed, then leaned down to brush a kiss over the skin of his upper arm. "Leave it to me; you don't have to do anything. Anyway, it's me that has a third time to go," he added, voice low and husky, and more than a little smugly.
Loghain snorted, but forbore to protest further. The careful manipulation did feel good, even if his flesh was so far almost entirely unresponsive to it. Sebastian moved away after a while. He heard the scrape of the oil jar against the table again, the soft glugging sound as a little of it was poured out. Then Sebastian was back, though rather than returning to his previous ministrations he touched Loghain further back. Touched, and pressed, a single finger questing inwards. Loghain gasped and stiffened in surprise.
"Shh," Sebastian said, his other hand stroking soothingly along the thigh of Loghain's bent leg. "I promise you, this too will be good."
Loghain wavered in indecision, hands clenching on the bedclothes, unsure of whether to protest, to end this now... and remembered the look of pleasure on Sebastian's face as he'd ridden Loghain. Loghain knew how that had felt to him... but how did it feel from the other side? By Andraste's flaming hair, he'd done so much already tonight that he had never dreamed of doing; that even a few hours ago he'd have soundly denied the likelihood over ever doing. In for a copper, in for a gold... he forced himself to relax, to unclench his hands, to nod. "All right," he rasped out.
"I'll be gentle," Sebastian promised, a note of humour in his voice that brought an involuntary smile to Loghain's lips. Their previous activity had not exactly been gentle. Quite aggressively wanton, if anything.
But Sebastian's hands remained gentle, as he left his finger slip deeper inside, then withdrew it partway, then pressed in again. It felt merely intrusive at first, and then oddly pleasurable, even more so when Sebastian crooked it forwards, drawing a surprised gasp from Loghain. For a few minutes he did nothing but that, the slow, careful movement of his finger almost hypnotic, Loghain relaxing more and more as it continued. When a second finger joined the first, it was not uncomfortable, just a feeling of greater fullness, and a strangely enjoyable feeling of pressure, of stretching.
After a while Sebastian moved to straddle Loghain's lower leg, then put his free hand under Loghain's bent knee, lifting it a little before sliding his arm underneath and lifting upwards, so that the leg was hooked over the crook of Sebastian's elbow. Sebastian shifted closer, moving his other hand out of the way, and then there was pressure again against Loghain's entrance, and then an intrusion, larger than the fingers had been, the stretch required as it pushed inwards producing a sensation somewhere between pain and pleasure. Loghain cried out, going tense, and Sebastian stopped. "Relax," he said quietly, and began rubbing circles on the small of Loghain's back with his free hand. After a few harsh breaths Loghain managed to do so, relaxing enough for Sebastian to push in further.
The sensation, when the younger man finally stopped, was nothing Loghain had imagined. He felt so full, and yet as the slight pain of the entry faded, as his muscles slowly relaxed, there was a feeling of pleasure too, a pressure reminiscent of when his balls tightened before orgasm. And then Sebastian slowly withdrew a little, and pressed back in again. Loghain's cock, quiescent until now, stirred slightly.
"Maker!" he gasped, and Sebastian chuckled softly, then did it again, moving slowly and gently, and the last of the pain vanished away, replaced only by a steadily increasing pleasure at the feeling of Sebastian's cock sliding back and forth inside him. There was one place in particular, as the flared head slid back and forth... so good, and yet almost frustratingly not quite enough. He shifted, rolling a little more to one side, and then gasped at how much better the next slow stroke felt as it rubbed more firmly against the right place. Another change in angle and then by the old gods, he had to muffle his cry of pleasure by shoving his forearm into his mouth.
And then Sebastian picked up his pace, still gentle, but with just a little more force and urgency, and everything stopped being important, everything except the feeling of being fucked by another man, his cock hardening for the third time in one night, which it had been years since had last happened, and which he'd have sworn he was physically incapable of at his age.
He came again, after a while, shuddering out his climax with Sebastian's hand wrapped around him, Sebastian's cock still buried in him, able to do nothing but lie there limp and exhausted as the more energetic young man finished himself off with a last few thrusts. Felt Sebastian pat his shoulder, heard him say something about cleaning the two of them up again, and then he was gone, too exhausted to remain awake even a breath longer.
Sebastian tugged the hem of his tunic straight, and glanced at the early morning sunlight streaming in the window, then at the man still sprawled asleep in his bed. And couldn't help but smile. It had been a very pleasurable night, in several senses of the word, and he was heartily glad that his and Gareth's paths had crossed.
He considered just leaving quietly, letting the man sleep on – it had been very late, just shy of dawn, before they'd finally slept – but decided in the end that that would be doing Gareth a disservice; he might have commitments of his own that he had to meet this morning. Things that he might already be running late for, at that.
"Gareth, it's morning," Sebastian called, and then when that drew no response, leaned down and grasped his shoulder, shaking it. "Gareth!"
The man started awake, tensing immediately, eyes sweeping the room, only relaxing once he realized where he was, with whom, and why. "Good morning," he rasped, pushing himself partially upright with his weight on one elbow, and rubbing tiredly at his eyes with his other hand, then winced as he looked toward the window. "Damn. What time it is?"
"Early morning still. But I have to go, and I thought I'd best wake you first, in case you had things you needed to do."
"Thank you. And yes, I do," Gareth said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting upright. "Where are my clothes?"
"Over there," Sebastian said, gesturing to where he'd draped them over one of the chairs to get them out of the way.
"Good," Gareth said, and rose to his feet, scratching unselfconsciously at his stomach for a moment, then gave Sebastian a sideways look. "Thank you for last night," he said, blushing just slightly, then strode across the room to the chair, and began redressing himself.
Sebastian grinned. "No, thank you," he said. "I have not had such an enjoyable night in some time. I am saddened that it could not be longer, but... I must return home," he said, and grimaced. "My father will not be pleased about my absence. Knowing him, I may end up confined to my rooms for a few days in punishment. But... if I can get away... would you like to meet again?"
Gareth looked up, seeming faintly surprised. "I am, unfortunately, only here in Starkhaven for a few days, and I expect my business here to keep me rather thoroughly occupied for the remainder of the time I'm here."
"Oh," said Sebastian, crestfallen, and couldn't help but wonder if his words were truth, or just a convenient excuse, and started to turn away, head lowering.
Gareth, to his surprise, seemed to guess the direction of his thoughts, and dropping his jacket back down on the chair, closed the distance between them, one hand closing around Sebastian's forearm and squeezing it reassuringly. "I almost wish I could tell you yes," he said quietly, eyes looking searchingly at Sebastian's face. "I doubt I'll ever purposefully seek out a man's company, even though I did enjoy last night considerably more than I'd have ever believed I could. But... I don't regret it, not at all," he said, and then leaned forward, other hand closing around Sebastian's chin, tilting his head up to meet an affectionate kiss.
Sebastian was feeling much happier afterwards. "Thank you," he said, and smiled warmly at Gareth. "I should go. Don't worry about locking the door when you go; the housemaid will see to it once she's cleaned the room."
Gareth nodded, and returned to putting on the last few pieces of his leather armour. "Good-bye, Sebastian. And thank you again, for a most memorable night."
Sebastian grinned, and left.
Loghain felt almost entirely human again after having returned to the inn in the upper city where he and his men were staying during their visit, and having eaten a hearty breakfast followed by a hot bath and a change into formal court clothes. Thankfully he wasn't due to present his credentials at court until shortly before noon, after which, he'd been given to understand, there'd be an informal luncheon with Prince Vael and his family, followed by a much more formal ball of welcome the next evening, with guests from throughout Starkhaven and the surrounding Free Marches present.
That was just the froth on the beer, of course; all the really important things would happen over the course of lengthy talks between himself, Prince Vael, and some selection of the Prince's advisers. It would, he hoped, lead to an eventual agreement between Starkhaven and Ferelden; not only the public one concerning trade, but a more private one concerning mutual defence, based on a mutual dislike of Orlesians and their acquisitiveness. Though his visit here was merely to begin the process of making such an agreement, not just here but in several other parts of northern Thedas. If he was successful it would at some point oblige either assorted heads of state to visit Ferelden, or for King Maric to travel abroad for some little while, to see everything formally signed and sealed. Though that a future worry, it being likely that it would take some time for negotiation of the terms of such agreements to take place.
He arrived at the palace with his guard in good time, and was shown to the small receiving room where he was to be formally presented to the Prince, before a small audience of local nobles and dignitaries. They exchanged only a few words, carefully formal, Loghain handing over the thick ribbon-tied bundle of papers that contained his credentials, a formal message from King Maric to Prince Vael, and a few documents having to do with the preliminaries of the trade discussion, which had already been broached at a lower level some time before Loghain's departure from Ferelden.
Prince Vael accepted the bundle graciously, passed it off to his personal secretary, and that was the end of the formalities, at least for today. Loghain bowed and was permitted to depart the room, after which a servant led him to the small dining room where he'd be lunching with the Vael family. He had to wait briefly in the corridor, only being shown into the room once Prince Vael and his family had arrived.
Loghain walked a few paces into the room, and bowed deeply to Prince Vael, then thanked him for his invitation to dine. As he spoke, he ran his eyes along the line of people gathered there to be introduced to him. The Prince's wife – not a Princess, having come of noble but not royal stock, so merely a Consort, normally addressed with the catch-all title of Lady. The eldest son, looking almost a twin of his father, though rather meatier in size, and his recent bride, who was a Princess already, having come from one of the many surviving offshoots of the Antivan royal family. And likely quite happy to be safely out of Antivan politics, given their cutthroat nature. The middle son, still unmarried, a military man by all accounts, slated to someday be his brother's General. And... Loghain's eyes stopped briefly, and only years of experience at concealing reactions prevent him from staring or otherwise reacting too noticeably.
By the Maker. Sebastian.
He'd spent the night with the Prince of Starkhaven's youngest son. The wastrel, by reputation, and apparently by demonstrated fact as well.
Thankfully Sebastian was maintaining as calm a visage as Loghain himself was, and kept up his disinterested demeanour as the two of them were formally introduced to each other a little time later. It was only much later, after the meal, when the women had left and the men were standing around with drinks and talking, that Sebastian briefly cornered him, well away from the others.
"How surprising. A pleasure to meet you, Teyrn Loghain."
Loghain flushed slightly, covered it with a sip of his drink. "Gareth was my father's name. I'm sure you can understand why I did not wish to share my own?"
"Of course. Though I do hope you're not regretting our informal meeting earlier?"
"Not at all," Loghain said, and smiled. "As I said before... a most memorable night. And I would hope you understand why it cannot be repeated?"
"Of course," Sebastian said, and smiled, then shrugged. "Not that there would be much chance of it; I'm confined to my rooms for the remainder of the week, apart from mandated gatherings like this, and then, I am told, I am to be packed off to the chantry. Not even the local chantry," he added, expression briefly darkening. "I'm being effectively exiled, sent off to Kirkwall."
"Ah. I am sorry," Loghain said quietly.
Sebastian smiled again. "Why? It is nothing you have done. And perhaps I'll use the opportunity to find out what the pious Sisters and devote Brothers wear under their robes, hmmm?"
Loghain snorted, lips twitching into a brief smile. "I'm sure you can try."
Sebastian grinned. "I'm sure I'll have fun trying. And who knows, perhaps I'll even succeed, as I did with you. And now... my loving father is glaring at me and coming this way, doubtless fearing that I'm being inappropriate, so if you'll excuse me..." He bowed to Loghain.
"If he asks, I'll say we spoke of Ferelden,"Loghain said softly as he bowed as well.
Sebastian flashed him that smile again, the same brief bright one from the night before. "It's not even a lie," he said approvingly. And left.