Anders had never been to a wedding, let alone had to organise one before. Neria… well Neria seemed to actually have some idea of what needed to be done, although where she'd managed to gain the knowledge he had no idea, although he suspected Felsi and possibly even the Queen had had something to do with it.

"We need to invite people," she was saying one evening, sitting on the bed in their quarters surrounded by papers.

"We need to what?"

'Invite people."

"Why? Everyone we know lives here. They're going to come anyway."

A muscle worked in Neria's jaw and he realised he was skirting along the edge of a precipice that probably had large amounts of pain at the bottom. She looked up and fixed him with dark eyes that he hoped were twinkling with humour and not… malice.

"I was thinking Caron and some of the mages from Orlais might want to come. And Gaspare and the Antivan wardens too. Not to mention Dianora from the Free Marches. And surely you want Maeve and Jairo to come from Highever? Maybe Fergus and…"

"Maker's breath Neria!"

"You promised me a party, Anders," she said, cocking an eyebrow at him. "In any case, Sigrun was thinking of having a meeting of the wardens in Spring, it's not like they weren't going to be here anyway."

Humour. They'd been twinkling in humour. "Well, if they're going to be here any way, of course they should come," he said, smiling and breathing a sigh of relief. She grinned at him.

"You actually thought I was going to send out wedding invitations, didn't you," she said.

He bit his knuckle. "Since I have no idea how one does this…. I really didn't know what you were going to do."

"Says the man who has already been married…"

"Sweet Andraste, woman, stumbling into a Chantry at two in the morning with a drunk for a witness does not a wedding expert me make." Her laughter rippled through him and he stopped mid-rant. He pointed at her with a shaking finger. "You are enjoying this far too much."

She looked back down at her papers. "Of course I am," she said. "That's the whole point."

He crossed the room in two steps and grasped her shoulders, pulling her up to him and planting his lips on hers. Papers scattered across the bed and off. She resisted for a second, before melting against him and letting out a small moan.

This, this was why he was happy to go through with the teasing, the constant jokes from Oghren and lewd comments from Zevran. The feel of her, under him, around him. The fact that she responded like this when he touched her there…"You," she said, between gasps, "are trying to distract me…"

"Yup," he said, licking a slow stripe up one deliciously pointed ear. "Is it working?" He worked his fingers down her front, undoing buttons, brushing soft skin.

"Yes," she whispered. "But you can't do this all the time, you know…"

"Watch me," he whispered back. He slid her robes off her shoulders and pulled them down to her waist, trapping her arms by her sides. He dipped his head and tasted the skin just above the scrap of cloth that bound her breasts.

"Anders," she whispered, her low voice sending heat to his groin and making him repress a groan. He was in control here, he told himself, no need to let her get the upper hand by doing things… she managed to move her arm enough to brush against him… like that. He paused for a second, breathing deep, before continuing to nip and nibble, working her robes lower, to her hips, freeing her arms to come up and cup the back of his head.

He continued to work his tongue and teeth over her skin, enjoying her sighs and moans. Once he'd freed her from her robes he backed her onto the bed, lying her down without taking his lips from her skin. She was panting a little now, and he smiled to himself as he completed the task of undressing her, slipping his fingers under her smallclothes and working them off. She was looking at him now, her dark eyes even darker, if possible, black with desire and feeling. It was all he could do not to strip himself naked and plunge into her immediately, but there was no way he wanted it to end that quickly and he settled himself between her thighs instead, letting his breath tickle the hair there before pressing his tongue into her wet heat.

The gasp that she let out was like a jolt of electricity to his groin and he moaned into her as he worked his tongue, taking his cues from her increasingly frantic movements and noises. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling it free of its tie and he felt her strong fingers digging into his scalp as her hips bucked frantically against him. He held her hips down as he worked faster, drunk on the sound of her voice and the feel of her skin and the smell and the taste of her arousal. Power started to crackle in the air and he knew she was close. He used two fingers to enter her and press upwards just so, targeting a small spark of magic at the same time and she shrieked his name, clenching around his hand hard. The air went hazy as she lost control of her power and languor settled on his limbs despite his urgent desire.

"Best pull that in a little, my love," he whispered as he stretched out beside her on the bed. She had her eyes closed and her mouth, soft and relaxed, open, still panting for breath. "Unless you want people wondering why it takes twice as long to get down this length of corridor. She gasped a giggle and there was a snap in the air as she sucked her miasma back. "I do wonder sometimes, why you default so readily to entropy."

"I like to slow things down," she said, reaching out a hand and lazily trailing it down the front of his robes. He captured it and kissed it, but she tutted and pushed him back, swinging her leg over his waist and settling down on his extremely obvious and now agonisingly trapped behind the cloth of his clothing erection. She started to rock back and forth on him.

"You're… going to.. ah… ruin my robes," he gasped out.

She stopped abruptly and he let out a groan. "I'm terribly sorry," she said. "Should I get off then?"

He growled and tried to grab at her shoulders, intending to pull her off him so he could at least get himself free, but there was a flare of power and he was frozen, the white rings of paralysis trapping him stretched out on his back with his hands in the air. She grinned wickedly at him and started working on his buckles, slowly, oh, so slowly, her small breasts swinging as she occasionally leant forward to nip at his neck or kiss his ear.

It was torture.

He loved it.

She eased his clothing off with a bit of difficulty that had her catching her lower lip between her teeth in concentration. He wished he could laugh, or kiss her, or do something that would ease the overpowering ache of wanting her, but there was something delicious about being helpless where he was as she moved over him, little brushes of her smooth skin against his, feathery touches of her fingers and occasionally her lips and tongue and teeth that had him shouting internally.

When he was naked she straddled his knees, and dipped her head down to capture him in her mouth. For the first few sucks he remained frozen, but the edges of the spell unravelled as she worked him. When his arms were free he buried his fingers in her hair and let his eyes drift closed. When his hips were free he had to fight not to buck up into her mouth.

She clambered up him, grinning, and positioned himself over him. He grinned as she sank down, then gasped as she started to rock her hips again. Slowly, ever so slowly, but he was on such a knife edge of desire and denial that he didn't need speed. She closed her eyes and tipped back her head, her skin shiny with sweat and flushed with heat and he shouted his release as it overcame him, clutching her hips hard and throwing his head as far back as it could go.

She flopped forward onto his chest and he stroked her back, heaving a sigh. "I'm going to ask Wade to help me design the dress," she said after a moment. "But you're not allowed to see it until the wedding day. Just so you know."

He pinched her bottom and laughed helplessly.