.2 Bitter sweet

After being sent out to warn Fergus about his premature departure, Elissa retired to her room to think, trying to remember her historical lessons about previous blights and the role the Grey Wardens played in the history of Ferelden. Despite the late summer heat she felt uncompelled to satisfy her curiosity by visiting the library; she felt an urgent need to be secluded, if only in the company of her faithful Mabari hound.

When a soft knock on her door finally reminded her she was expecting company, she stood up from her vanity stool and called for entry, although her voice still sounded more absentminded than she had wished for.

In the door opening stood a beautiful blonde woman, shyly looking her way while straightening her dress. "You expected me, my lady?"

"I did," Elissa reminded herself, breaking her stare into nothing to lay her eyes upon her nightly guest. Then her gaze softened, warming her thoughts with a smile. "Of course I did. Please close the door, Iona."

The elven girl followed suit without a sound and remained where she was, looking rather lost. As Elissa forced a deserving smile on her lips, she gazed at her expectantly. Apparently, the lack of coyness in Landra's lady in waiting had disappeared with the evening sun, while she herself had been the one who had offered to make a visitation at nightfall after some laden remarks.

Yet now she stood there, looking everywhere but at the bed and at Elissa. Forcing some patience on herself, the youngest Cousland waited in silence as she made her eyes wander over the girl in front of her. She wore an elven made dress off the shoulder, embroidered around the hems which made her tunic of fine wool look like a beggar's garment. Her figure was slender and fragile, yet her arms and shoulders hid a soft muscular tone, revealing there was more than met the eye. It was this that made Elissa put more effort in her persuasion, as willing to put as much patience and tact into which the situation might require.

Elissa sat back down on the stool of her modest vanity, only attired with a brush and a hair comb that had recently been gifted to her by a bann's son who's name she ceased to remember. Feeling more determined than silly, she grabbed the brush and started to untangle her hair. Though fine and wavy it was more often a mess than the fall of luscious honey it could be, and she roughly pulled at the strands to comb out the knots the wind had tied in them.

"No, let me," Iona spoke hesitantly as she approached her in a sudden hurry. Elissa presented her the brush with a smile, welcoming the elf's slender hands as she carefully handled the brush. She comfortably cocked her head back, allowing her neck to rest on her shoulders as she closed her eyes and sighed in delight. Although only as for recent, she enjoyed having her hair combed.

When Iona's hand left her hair to reach for the pearled comb on the vanity, Elissa opened her eyes. "No need for that," She purred confidently as she played the tips of her fingers in the palm of the elf's slender hand.

Iona, visibly reassured by Elissa's refreshed mood, smiled impishly. "And have my work be in vain?" Her free hand appreciated a single strand of hair, like only a woman could.

"I was hoping to mess it up shortly." The youngest Cousland confessed with an ease that betrayed her familiarity with the art of seduction. The elf didn't cease to notice and sounded her sweet amusement on the matter, as Elissa enjoyed the tinkling of her laugh.

"I will not mock your work, sweet Iona. If you will not mock mine."

Elissa spun around on the stool of the vanity and urgently pressed her lips against Iona's, who parted them in welcome.

"There's the girl I met earlier today,"

Elissa softly breathed the words into her mouth, tracing her lips with the tip of her tongue. Iona's body trembled slightly and answered her question with a deep passionate kiss, as if to prove Elissa had found not only that girl, but also a woman, familiar with her needs and wishes.

As Iona slowly guided her to the bed, Elissa gently pushed the dress off her shoulders, allowing a marvelous sight at the hills of her bosom. She smiled in appreciation, the more when she pulled the remaining fabric over the elf's slender hips. She then climbed on top of her, drowning herself in the sweetness of her company, to forget her troubles, if only it were for a little while.

Shortly after, Elissa dreamed of fields of sun ripened grain, the scent of summer, and sweat trickling down blonde shoulders. Eventually twilight of her inner eye turned into a red horizon; clouds obscuring the moon as they formed a daunting red sky. The sweet flavor on her lips became a distant memory as she tasted smoke on her tongue, smoke, ash and blood.

Elissa instantly opened her eyes as she found herself awake by her Mabari's fervent barking. Iona immediately stirred, and she stood up wearily. Elissa, used to living under the protection of the citadel, couldn't help but steal a look at the naked girl moving towards the door, swaying her hips with every step.

"Your hound is making so much noise, he seems so angry!"

"I could put him out in the hall," Elissa proposed as she remembered her dream and wondered what it meant. Taking an example from Iona's imprudence, she too stood up without dressing, and rubbed her eyes to force some focus upon herself.

"I thought I heard yelling when I woke up, but now I hear nothing."

Iona looked at the door as the Mabari Hound scratched at it with all it's might, as meaning to go out for a walk. But it took little to realize he never did, not at this time of night.

Elissa stopped dead in her steps, realizing what woke her up and how unforeseen the situation was that had befallen upon them.

"I'm going to see if someone's in the hall" Iona stated, reaching for the doorknob before Elissa was able to open her mouth and speak. As the door flew open a sharp whistle filled the confinement of the bedroom, followed by a dull thud.

Elissa ran to her armoire to grab her longsword, to aid her hound which was audibly repelling their attackers. When she ran into the hall she tripped, smacking painfully to the cold floor. She lay amidst two soldiers, one of them an archer. Both their throats were ripped, and her dog sat next to them, eyeing them for moves they were never again going to make. When she looked over her shoulder to see what tripped her, she met Iona's lifeless stare.