Title: Truth or Dare: Chapter 2

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to BioWare, I'm making no profit.

Author's Notes: So this is it, this story moves to M.

I hate the undies they have in the game. I'm not using those.

Thanks to mille libri and mnomaha for betaing this chapter and bearing with my griping!

Truth or Dare

by owlet

The corridor was dark and empty; a good thing too, so nobody could see a certain mage standing in front of a certain door with her finger curled and raised to knock. Nobody would know in the morning that she had been standing here for quite a while, undecided if she had the nerve to actually make her presence known to the man inside.

To knock, or not to knock; that was the question.

Her heart was going a mile a minute and her stomach did flip-flops – at least that was what it felt like to Ceridwen. She licked her lips nervously. The kiss had been ... extraordinary, and she wanted more. More kisses, more touches, more everything; her entire being seemed to pulsate with desire.

But was it a good idea? Had he meant it or was he just getting her back for the humiliating moment at the celebration? He wasn't exactly a nice man; but then – did she want nice? She rubbed her face with her other hand and took a deep breath. Gathering all the courage she could muster (she hadn't been this afraid of the Archdemon, for the Maker's sake), she knocked twice, very softly.

DA:O

Loghain sat behind his desk and studied the map in front of him. It was a slightly whimsical piece that he always carried with him; a rendering of the borders he would like Ferelden to have. He had shed his armour and was dressed in a simple shirt of fine, unbleached linen and matching trousers, the very last of the layers that usually separated steel from skin. Many would scoff if they knew, but it had never made sense to him to wear expensive, elaborate clothes where no one would see them.

His eyes were on the map, but his thoughts continued to stray to the woman he was waiting for. Would she come? She had seemed eager enough on the terrace, but maybe he had scared her away with his forwardness and careless words. He had come to respect her during their travels, her courage and sharp wit, the way she could talk anyone into anything (even him, no, maybe especially him), the way she handled problems, the way she fought (she was bloody dangerous, but it was so easy to forget) – and somewhere along the line it had occurred to him that she also was a beautiful woman with soft skin and gentle curves.

Loghain was so deep in thought that he almost missed two barely audible knocks on his door.

A triumphant glint appeared in his ice-blue eyes as he went to let her in.

DA:O

"You took your time."

"Yes, well ... I," Ceridwen fumbled for words helplessly, her famed silver tongue deserting her around him as it always did lately. Her eyes were wide and every muscle in her body was taut, ready to propel her back to her own room in a flash (to hide under the bed, or better yet, to dig herself a hole); she felt so awfully vulnerable and he was very intimidating even out of his armour.

He was out of his armour.

Oh.

"Come in," he simply said, taking a step to the side to let her pass.

Ceridwen swallowed hard and cautiously entered the room. It looked lived in, various knick-knacks decorating the furniture and she remembered his grim amusement at finding out that nobody had found the time (or the nerve) to evict him from his rather luxurious quarters after his disgrace at the Landsmeet.

She jumped a little when she felt his hands on her shoulders.

"Shall we continue where we left off," he murmured into her ear from behind, catching her lobe with his lips.

Her knees got weak and she barely managed to turn around without losing her footing.

"Yes..."

Loghain lowered his lips to hers gently this time and Ceridwen's eyes closed of their own accord. His hands travelled up and down her back and hers soon found their way under his shirt to bare skin; he shuddered at her touch and deepened the kiss, hands tangling in her hair now.

He pulled back abruptly and stared at her with a calculating expression on his face.

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage here, my dear. We can't have that, can we?"

"What," Ceridwen asked blinking.

Loghain didn't answer, just started making short work of the fastenings of her robe until it opened; Ceridwen blushed and looked away. She could feel his eyes burning on her skin and could barely restrain the impulse to pull the fabric back over her front and run away.

"But ... a bear is so big, how would I hide?"

"Hiding doesn't solve anything."

How odd to think about her Harrowing now of all times.

He took her chin and turned her face back to his.

"You're lovely," he said earnestly, kissing her again, trailing his fingertips over her newly revealed skin. They were warm, part of her was a little surprised; he had always seemed so cold to her. The robe fell to the floor and he pulled her close; Ceridwen gingerly rested her head against his shoulder. She felt safe, safe and warm, which was somewhat at odds with her racing pulse. Loghain pulled the pins out of her hair and undid the braids, then fiddled with the cloth that she had bound her breasts with; it came undone and slipped to her hips. When he brought his hands between them, gently touched her nipples and then cupped his hands over the soft mounds of flesh, she moaned into his mouth when he claimed hers again.

Loghain broke the kiss and picked her up, walking the few steps to his bed and deposited her there. Ceridwen looked at him nervously as he lay down next to her. Doubt assailed her again, but it didn't last long into the next kiss. This time she was the one to pull away.

"Now you have me at a disadvantage," she said tugging at his shirt, "And we can't have that either, can we?"

He chuckled and drew his shirt over his head, casting it aside.

"No, I think we can't."

Ceridwen took a moment to study him, his solid, muscular physique (well, he did wear plate armour every day) and the marks his life had left on him. She reached out to trace a particular vivid scar on his right shoulder; it was long and puckered, white with age.

"A souvenir from the previous owner of my armour. Not all healers are as competent as your friend Wynne; and after the battle of the river Dane they were very busy indeed."

"I can imagine," she said, pointing to three white dots on her upper torso, "Arrows. Flemeth patched those up; but I guess she wasn't much concerned with aesthetics either."

"Ah yes, I see. Ostagar," he said, his face darkening.

Ceridwen cursed herself and grabbed his head looking into his eyes resolutely.

"That's not what I meant. Past, forgotten. The only one who died there that I really cared about was Duncan; and I've spent a lot of time cursing him because he didn't tell us anything that a Warden needs to know. I only pointed these out to you because I think they're ... not pretty. And they have a strange texture."

Loghain seemed to relax and turned them over so he was on top of her.

"Hm, let me see that..."

He traced the first of the three scars (near her collarbone) with his tongue, then the second (her shoulder) and the third (on her right breast).

"Nothing too interesting there, I think. Well, but this on the other hand..."

Ceridwen gasped and stared at the ceiling wide-eyed when his lips closed around her nipple.

He moved to the other one; she trailed her fingertips over the nape of his neck. He hummed in pleasure, feeling pleased she did it again and didn't protest when he pulled back a little and got rid of the rest of their clothes.

His hands wandered down her body and his eyes never left hers as he slipped one between her legs, gently exploring, finding slippery wetness there.

"Are you sure?"

Ceridwen swallowed and closed her eyes, unable to bear his penetrating gaze any longer.

"Yes ... yes, please."

She wasn't a virgin, of course the apprentices to the Circle experimented – watching Templars or no. It was something of a bonus, actually, forcing them to bear witness to lovemaking that they were forbidden to experience.

He entered her and it felt wonderful, even more so when he began to move languidly. Wonderful but not quite enough.

"Loghain, I'm not made of glass. Just ... let go."

He kissed her and sped up, his strokes becoming harder, deeper. Ceridwen began to mewl and pant, clinging to him. She was close, so close...

He suddenly stopped, deeply embedded in her.

Opening her eyes and looking at him in confusion she asked, "Loghain, what..." and then saw his devilish smile.

"You're a fiend," she complained raking her fingernails over his shoulders.

Loghain snorted and retaliated by biting her neck, sucking sharply at her skin.

"As if you didn't know that before."

Ceridwen made an unarticulated sound of frustration, scratching him again for good measure.

"Dammit ... move!"

She felt him chuckle silently, but he complied. It didn't take long for her to climb to the edge again and this time he took them both over it.

Catching her breath she opened her eyes to darkness; the candle on Loghain's desk had died sometime in the last minutes.

DA:O

Loghain withdrew from her, rolling to his side and taking her with him. He was quite grateful for the sudden darkness, else she would see his face. He was shocked at the depth of feeling that overcame him; he had been so sure that he was no longer capable of the like. Maybe it was just the situation: he had often almost felt like he loved his wife just after he had lain with her after all. He drew the blankets up from beneath them and wrapped them around himself and the woman in his arms. She sighed contently and snuggled up to him, resting her head against his shoulder. Maybe everything would sort itself out in the morning.