The Story of Each GuestHe had been dumbfounded when he had first laid eyes on Bella, no, Ardelia as her mother calls her. That the very person who had been with him night after night, the woman with the large sword and calloused hands would be the same woman as the one standing in front of him in the doorway to the library, looking every bit the fragile, sheltered daughter of a nobleman will never stop to surprise him.
Gathering himself had been hard, so very hard because she was looking at him with the same surprise in her eyes, her face otherwise revealing nothing for fear her mother would find out.
Dinner had been awkward at best, though not for the reason Leandra thought.
"Messere Vael, may I introduce my eldest daughter, Lady Arabella Ardelia Hawke."
Sebastian's breath leaves him, his knees buckling and barely holding him up. It's her! It's Bella! It must be a trick of his mind, a dream or a spell. Surely it cannot be the woman whom he's been with in secret for almost every night since his arrival in Kirkwall, can it?
Luckily for him, Leandra doesn't seem to notice anything, her eyes on the elven servant to signal her it's time for dinner.
Bella too, for her part, looks equally surprised, the way her eyes widen and her steps falter as she enters the room.
Oh, how he had wanted to rush to her, to embrace her! His heart soars at the prospect, to think that the woman he's fallen hard and fast for is the one intended for him. That his family would find him a woman so capable, a woman clearly skilled with a sword based on her calloused hands, now covered with silk gloves to hide that very evidence.
Sebastian collects himself just in time. With Leandra watching, he bows in a practiced way, having had it beaten into him by his parents until he perfected how to bow to members of various standing.
He takes Bella's outstretched hand, his lips hovering over the sheer fabric covering her skin. A jolt hits them both at the touch and Sebastian barely keeps his lips from touching the fabric as he kisses the air instead.
"A pleasure, Lady," he says as he straightens, keeping his eyes locked with hers as he sees the affect his rumbling voice has on her. Stopping the smirk forming on his lips as he sees her barely-controlled shiver proves to be equally hard.
"Shall we?" Leandra's voice chimes in, breaking the spell. Sebastian inclines his head and offers his arm to Bella, which she accepts. Warmth seeps quickly through their layers of clothes and this time it's Sebastian who shivers.
The dinner is the most awkward one Sebastian's had to suffer through in his entire life, and that is saying something. Leandra attempts small-talk, Bella is awfully quiet, and Sebastian awkwardly tries to reply to the questions asked him. He's so focused on Bella and trying not to make it apparent that he is, that he several times misses what Leandra says. It seems luck is on his side however, and he doesn't miss any important questions.
"I do hope you will return for dinner again tomorrow," Leandra says as she's leading him to the door.
At first, Sebastian had been surprised by the lack of servants, with the exception of the elven girl. He learnt they had taken in two dwarves as well, but that they were not servants and that they otherwise managed perfectly fine on their own. Despite Leandra growing up rich and with servants and having returned to that lifestyle, she had spent most of her life being self-sufficient and did not require anyone to help her as long as she was still capable of doing it herself.
Sebastian found he admires her strength and the lack of shame at the confession. Surely other nobles looks down on her and talks about her behind her back, he thinks. If only they knew she is stronger and better than they will ever be.
"I would be delighted, Lady Leandra."
Sebastian had quickly learnt to call her Leandra or Lady Leandra rather than Lady Amell.
"We will be family soon enough, so no reason to be so formal," she said, all the while refusing to call him anything but messere. "You were born a prince, and a prince you are. Your social standing is higher than mine, and so I will call you appropriately."
"Good. Lia? Your fianceé is leaving. You haven't forgotten your manners, have you?"
Sebastian rushes back to the Hanged Man after changing out of his finery, hoping desperately that Bella would be back, yet scared that what it will mean if she does turn up. At the same time, the thought of her not turning up is equally scary and when she walks through the door of the room they rent there his heart skips a beat then kicks back in hard and fast.
To Sebastian's surprise, nothing changed. She might be Ardelia to her mother, the kind daughter of a noblewoman during the day, but during the night she would continue to be his Bella, the woman who somehow managed to capture his heart in no time and seemed nothing like her daytime self.
They don't fall into bed that night. Instead they talk about their situation, about what they can or should do.
"I can't tell her, Sebastian. She doesn't know about my coming here to drink. It's difficult enough for her knowing there are days and nights when I'm gone fighting. That I've been here most nights, in bed with you would be too much."
"Then what do you propose?" Sebastian scoffs at his choice of words, and it earns him a small chuckle from Bella too.
"That we keep up appearances. Two sides of the same coin. You come to dinner, we pretend to be barely civilized, then I sneak out, or leave under the pretence of having more bandits to fight, and meet you here. Mother knows the city depends on me, much as she hates to admit it."
"I think you may be right, a stor. My parents also need to be kept in the dark. One more mistake and they send me to the Chantry. It failed the first time, but there's no guarantee they'll not try again. If they find out, they will send me away again, to somewhere else, someone else."
She finally looks at him, into his eyes and he feels like he could get lost in them. He's always been praised for his own eyes, for the vivid blue; royal blue, as his parents proudly called the colour. As though he chose the colour. But Bella's eyes are the pretties Sebastian's ever seen; green with specks of light brown, almost like honey.
"I should go," she suddenly says, rising from the bed. "I told mother I would only get some fresh air to clear my head. She'll worry if I don't return soon."
"Shall I escort you? I see you left your sword this time." Bella looks surprised, as if she noticed only now that she left her weapon at home.
"I…" she seems to hesitate, to wonder if it's a good idea. "I would like that."
They stop in a small alcove, sheltered from prying eyes and Sebastian kisses her. He's wanted to do so for so long, so he pours all his feelings into the kiss. Bella's arms wrap around him quickly, holding him close.
It doesn't take long for Sebastian's body to react to having her in his arms, up against a wall as they've so often been. He regrets letting her leave the Hanged Man, wishes he'd talked her into staying, contemplating if he can convince her to return with him now, when a door opens and Leandra's voice calls out for her daughter.
They jump apart, both looking around to see if anyone's spotted them or is passing by, but they're lucky once again.
"Shit. I need to go."
Sebastian nods, then kisses her again, doing his best not to let the kiss linger. He knows she needs to go, but letting her do so is not easy.
"Tomorrow, after dinner?" he asks, and Bella nods in reply.
-
Sebastian takes her again the next night, again and again and again through the dark hours.
Her body bruises under his firm, capable hands, as does his under her small, yet strong hands. She feels warm in his embrace, warm in a way that has nothing to do with the heat of their bodies together, but the rush of emotions, of what they are only allowed in the night.
He teases her, brings her almost over, so close, Sebastian, please, Maker, yes yes yes…
Her fingers rakes down his back, long red marks that almost but not quite makes him bleed, but she doubts he would care.
In return he leaves marks on her breasts and inner thighs – careful to not make them visible lest her mother notice them.
During the days, Sebastian comes to their home, both of them pretending to be barely civil, pretending they want nothing to do with one another. But at dinner things are different. Their legs tangle, his hand lifting up her dress to stroke the soft skin on the inside of her thigh that he marked only hours before. Her hand circle his upper thigh, the back of her gloved hand brushing against his member, feeling it twitch, out of his control.
It makes Sebastian choke on his words, makes it harder for him to tell stories from his homeland and of his family – tales and legends he's grown up with and stories from he was a child. What must Leandra think of him, not able to speak properly?
At night, they flip the coin. Gone are the civil conversations, the clipped words and the barely controlled restraints keeping them apart.
Sebastian slides in and out of her body, slick with her want. Bella cries out his name, leaves marks on his body barely concealed by clothes. They embrace, kiss, touch, and learn the body of the other person.
Bella tells him of her friends and comrades-in-arms, the rag-tag family she's built and their adventures. He learns not all of Varric's stories are exaggerated and that he needs to stay clear of the dwarf lest he gives away certain aspects of their relationships. Sebastian tells her stories of the wild side of his upbringing, the stories he can't possibly tell her at the dinner table with Leandra present. He tells her of his older brothers and their strict upbringing and expectations, and she tells him of her brother and sister, of growing up free but fearing their father and later on sister would be found out.
"They are both safe now. Carver is looking forward to taking his vows, and Bethany thrives in the Circle. She used to be scared, but it seems she's found her place in the world, taking care of the younger members and learning magic openly rather that in secret and under constant fear of being discovered. I just hope they'll never have to face one another in a battle or uprising."
"My family was never tight-knit. My brothers received the proper training for ruling, while I was left in the dark, so-to-speak. With the heir and the spare, they had no use for me. My grandfather took me under his wing and taught me archery. I still have his bow."
"I learnt how to use a sword from my father. He was never that good with it, but as the eldest child, I had to learn how to protect mother, Carver and Bethany should anything happen to father. He trusted me to kill him should he be possessed."
Sebastian can hear the sadness in her voice, so he decides to stop the talk of sadness and loss.
"It's alright, a stor. Let us cease this talk. Come now, leannán, let's think of something else. "
"Do you have something particular in mind?"
"Oh, I have some ideas," he whispers, his voice dropping low, rumbling, as he starts kissing his way down her body. "I'm sure I can make you think of something else entirely."
