"Bann Teagan? Are you-" Megan broke off, visibly embarrassed.
Zevran couldn't blame her. The last time they had seen Arl Eamon's brother, the Bann of Rainesfere had been a mere puppet, jerked about willy-nilly by a vicious desire demon. It had been painful to watch him dance and caper like a fool.
"I am myself again, thank you, Lady Megan." A small muscle under Teagan's eye was twitching nervously, but he seemed otherwise composed. "And very grateful to you and your companions. But what in the Maker's name shall we do about Connor?"
Megan walked over to the window, gazing out over the lake with unseeing eyes. "We will have to deal with him tomorrow. I need a little rest before making a decision."
"Of course, my lady." Teagan executed a quick, flawless bow in her direction. "You've done enough for one day."
Zevran tended to agree. The fight for the castle had been a nightmare, and Megan had been in the thick of it most of the time, her daggers whirling too fast for the eye to follow. And now that they had finally put an end to the invasion of undead corpses, they still had to sort out how to deal with the Arl's possessed son.
Two quick steps took him to Megan's side. "You look exhausted, my Warden. Exhausted and sad." Slipping his arm around her, he pulled her close so he could whisper in her ear. "Meet me in the Arl's study tonight, and I'll find something to cheer you up."
She didn't reply, but she nodded, almost too fast for anyone to see, a small smile playing around her lips.
It was almost midnight when she finally joined him in the study. The room managed to be both huge and overstuffed with furniture, heavy Fereldan pieces made from dark wood, the atmosphere further stifled by thick curtains. Zevran had chosen the Arl's very own armchair to sprawl in, a monstrosity large enough to serve as a throne with a velvet seat cushion, the armrests carved to look like mabari heads.
"Why here?" Megan threw him an amused glance as she settled in his lap.
Zevran offered her a feral grin in return. "Ah, I'm sorry, cara. Fereldan nobles bring out the worst in me. This room is just begging to be desecrated, don't you think?"
"And what exactly did you have in mind?" She smiled back just as maliciously before meeting his lips in a long, slow kiss.
It had been several weeks since they'd first made love, and she had turned out to be just as talented a student in bed as she was on the sparring grounds. Not that she'd exactly been an innocent before, but he had enjoyed teaching her more refined pleasures. And she was happy to benefit from his experience and his Crow training, curious to find out what he liked best. He sighed contentedly when she caught the tip of his sensitive ear between her fingers, gently massaging it. The sensation went straight to his groin, making his cock twitch in response.
Megan smiled, wiggling closer against him. For once, they weren't wearing armour, just leather pants and shirts, and it was nice, being able to feel the warmth of her body through the thin linen, grinding himself against her with a slow roll of his hips until he was fully hard.
"Maybe you could do something about this?" He took her hand and moved it down to the bulge in his pants.
"Maybe I should," she agreed, sliding downward until she was settled on the floor between his legs, her hands stroking his thighs in soft, steady circles. She was driving him mad, with her full pink lips just inches from his cock, only separated by a thin layer of leather, and she knew it.
"Please." Zevran guided her hand to his laces, and she complied with a low chuckle.
Moments later he was bare, and she was taking hold of his cock, rubbing her cheek affectionately against the smooth skin. "You look good enough to eat."
"Feel free." He grinned back at her. "Just be careful with your teeth."
She winked at him as her lips closed around him, and Maker, her mouth was perfect, hot and moist and… His hands gripped the armrests hard to stop himself from bucking up. Megan pulled back just long enough to place a quick kiss on him and to snake one hand between his legs to cup his balls, then she was back, sucking gently, then with more insistence. He cursed under his breath, trying to decide whether to stop her or to just let her go on. So tempting to just enjoy the way her tongue flicked against him, to lie back and let her take him to a climax that promised to be exquisite…
"This way." Bann Teagan's deep voice, just around the corner, made them both jump.
In a heartbeat, Zevran was on his feet, tucking himself away and looking for a hiding place. Megan was a step ahead, taking his hand and dragging him behind a curtain, biting back a giggle as she did so. Her slim body was hot against his, her scent filling his nostrils. They only just managed to make sure the curtain covered them both completely before the Bann entered the study, Alistair in tow.
They were only a few yards away, and Zevran found that he had a surprisingly good view through a slit in the curtain. Teagan didn't seem bothered by the lit lamp on the desk. Walking over to a heavy armoire, he took out a bottle of what looked to be brandy and poured two glasses.
"Alistair. I believe we need to talk." He took a deep sip, handing the second glass to Alistair, who nodded, looking wary and vaguely uncomfortable.
Teagan motioned to two chairs near the fireplace, picking the larger one for himself. "It's about the poor dear Cousland girl. Much as I'm relieved she's still alive, I have to confess I was horrified to meet her under such… violent circumstances."
Alistair looked confused for a moment. "The poor- Oh. You mean Megan. But surely, if you're worried about her, you should talk to her, not to me."
"And I will, don't you doubt it." The Bann looked grim. "However, I thought it might be wise to discuss it with you first. You are of course aware that in the absence of her brother she is the rightful heir to the Cousland fortune?"
To Zevran's surprise, Alistair shook his head, standing up straight, though it was obviously not easy for him to confront the Bann. "Beg your pardon, ser, but that's not true. Megan is a Warden now. Besides, Arl Howe has seized all her family's assets."
"Yes, yes." Teagan waved his hand dismissively. "As soon as Eamon is better, we'll have to see what can be done about Howe. And of course, we'll have to deal with this Warden business. Surely you see that this cannot be allowed to continue. The Cousland family is one of the oldest in the country, and if it were to die out-"
Alistair's face took on a curious expression, something halfway between stubborn and defiant. "I'm sorry, ser. But the process of becoming a Warden is irreversible. Besides…" He took a deep breath. "We need Megan. Ferelden needs her. Without her, we might not be able to stop the Blight. And if we fail-"
"I'm well aware how catastrophic that would be, Alistair." Teagan was rubbing his jaw, looking displeased. "Still… Ah, well. Maybe Lady Megan will be more amenable to reason than you are."
I wouldn't count on that if I were you. Zevran was glad that his grin was hidden by the heavy curtain folds. Next to him, Megan inhaled sharply, and he pressed her hand tight.
"Either way," Teagan continued, "she must be made to see that her current behaviour is not acceptable for a lady of her station. Is it true what I've heard about her and the Antivan?"
"I don't know, ser. What have you heard?" Alistair's face was a picture of innocence, but Zevran knew him well enough by now to detect the growing tension in his posture. He doesn't like this any more than I do.
"That he's her lover." Teagan looked positively disgusted. "Maker's balls, Alistair! What is the girl thinking? To throw herself away on an Antivan assassin, an elf to boot – if we're very lucky, we can keep the news from spreading, or she won't have any marriage prospects to speak of, once this is over."
Alistair sighed. "Look, you really have to talk to Megan about this. I don't think she'll listen, though, to be honest. And as for her marrying and carrying on the Cousland name…" He bit his lip. "You'd better pray that her brother shows up again, is all I'm saying."
Teagan responded with a resigned sigh, but seemed to be willing to let the topic rest. The two men stayed a few minutes longer, exchanging inconsequential gossip, but then they finally left.
Zevran exhaled deeply once the door closed behind them. Next to him, Megan almost snorted with relief.
"What a load of tripe." She made a face, trying to disentangle herself from the curtain. "Teagan really needs to mind his own business."
Megan's chest felt tight, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the lack of fresh air in her hiding place, or because of Bann Teagan's patronizing manner. Poor dear girl, indeed. Without her, they would still be huddling in the chantry, waiting for the army of undead to finish them off.
"Wait." Zevran carefully lifted the heavy fabric so she could step out into the open again. "I don't know, my Warden. Maybe I was too obvious with my affections. I apologize, and I will be more discreet in the future."
"What?" Megan shook her head, irritated beyond belief. "You mean, because of Teagan? He can stuff it, Zev. I'll sleep with whomever I damn well please."
Teagan's words had made her furious, not just because he thought she should behave like a proper noble damsel, but also because of the way he had talked about Zevran. Even though she'd only known him for a few months, Megan had become incredibly close to the assassin. Zevran and she were alike in so many ways, and they had so much fun together, in and out of bed, that she honestly didn't care about his past any more. He was one of her merry band of misfits now, and whoever wanted to attack or criticize him would have to go through her.
"He is correct, though, isn't he?" Zevran was obviously doing his best to sound reasonable. "Once this is over, you will have to marry and carry on your family name."
"Not going to happen. You see…" Megan threw a quick glance at the door, to make sure no one was listening. "Technically, I guess I'm not allowed to tell you, but you have as much right to know as anyone. Wardens can't have children. It's a side effect of the Joining." Zevran's face plainly showed his surprise, and she quickly went on. "I stopped bleeding shortly after Ostagar, so I went to see Morrigan. I was actually afraid I might be pregnant, but no. It makes sense, you know. You wouldn't want to fight darkspawn with a baby in your belly."
"Still, you're so young…" There was an odd inflection in his voice. "Does this happen to every Warden?"
"Yes." Megan nodded. "Not equally fast, apparently. Sometimes it takes a little longer, especially with the men. But as a general rule, Wardens don't have kids. End of story." Noticing the look on his face, she rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that. I've never really wanted children all that much, Zev. I'm fine." And it was true. Though, maybe with the right person… She had to pause for a moment when the memories rose to the surface, of Nathaniel, of their plans to get married. But she chased them away as quickly as she could. "Anyway, Alistair is right. If we don't stop the Blight, we'll have far bigger problems to deal with than the loss of the precious Cousland bloodline. Besides, Fergus might still be alive. My brother is tougher than most people think."
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she glanced over at the armchair. "Now, I believe we were in the middle of decidedly more pleasant activities when we were interrupted. Care to pick up where we left off?"
He hesitated barely a moment before his lips were on hers again, and she moaned happily, glad to be distracted. Zevran's kisses were like nothing she'd ever experienced before, skilled and teasing, but at the same time so very intense, so full of genuine, deep enjoyment. Whenever he kissed her, she lost track of everything else. Before she knew it, she was half naked in his arms, the laces of her shirt undone to bare her breasts. He laughed softly, taking a nipple between his lips, his hands already tugging at her pants.
When Zevran dropped back into the chair, dragging her with him, she straddled him eagerly, whining with delight when his hand found its way between her legs to caress her. He always knew how Megan needed to be touched, as if her body was an open book to him. She'd actually asked him how he did it, during one of the first nights they had spent together.
He'd just shrugged. "It all comes down to being observant, cara. Watching your responses, adapting my touch. It's a skill to be learned, like many others."
Megan disagreed. To her mind, there could be no doubt that he was particularly gifted when it came to making love. His hands were lighting a fire along her skin, making her burn with need, and already she was so wet and hungry for him she couldn't wait, fiddling impatiently with his laces.
He seemed to agree that it was time, quickly freeing himself from the constricting material. His cock was hard and hot in her hands, the taut skin smooth like the finest silk, a tiny drop of liquid forming at the tip.
"Zev. Tell me you want me." Her throat was almost too tight to say the words.
"I always want you." The passion in his voice made her tremble. "Come."
He carefully aligned her, gripping her hips tight as she slowly sank down on his cock, and he felt so good inside her, filling her inch by delicious inch. So marvellous. He was shaking with desire, too, and it filled her with incredible joy to be wanted, to be needed. Just her, not the heiress to the Cousland name, not the Warden who would save them all. Just the woman. Just Megan.
There was a world of affection in his gaze when he paused, once he was fully lodged inside her, to check on how she was doing. "All right?"
She nodded, unable to speak, and he smiled happily, leaning back to allow her to move freely. "Go on, cara. I'm all yours."
Instinctively she tightened around him, receiving a broken moan in response. Encouraged by his reaction, Megan rolled her hips in a slow circle, then picked up speed, using the chair's arms as leverage to ride him harder. Zevran seemed to love it all. He completely abandoned himself to her, let her do whatever she wanted, tease him, rub herself against him, take her pleasure from him any way she wanted.
She could feel the growing tension in him, though, almost imperceptible at first, but then more pronounced, until he felt as taut as a bowstring under her hands, making her wonder how he kept control. It was so utterly beautiful to see him like this, and even better when his control finally snapped and he grabbed her hard by the neck, pulling her into a punishing kiss, stealing the breath from her lips. His hips snapped up once, twice, and he felt so good inside her that without further prompting she was coming, right along with him, their bodies joined as closely as they could be. For one fleeting, glorious moment it was easy to imagine that what the bards sang about was true, those pretty lays about a one true love that would never end, about finding the perfect mate and never letting go.
And then it was over, and she met his eyes, fluttering with sudden exhaustion, and Megan knew with painful clarity that it was just an illusion, that they could never be that for each other. As much as she liked him, as much as she adored what he was doing to her body, it would never be him. They were friends, nothing more, friends who took care of each other and gave each other a moment of peace and happiness.
Nothing more than that. But it was enough for now.
A huge thank you to suilven for her help with this.