Nightmares
Leonie stared across the room at Duncan, unable to hide the grin on her face. She could tell from the ruddy patches on his cheeks that he was being teased by the other wardens. He glanced over at her, an eyebrow raised and she saw the hint of a smile twitching at his lips. A promise that he would pay her back, she was sure. She winked at him and then turned back to resume her conversation with the Commander of the Grey of Orlais.
"You realize that you will not be staying here in Jader, yes?" Montran said, his voice unctuous and overly solicitous.
Leonie felt a sinking sensation where her stomach had just been. She hadn't realized any such thing. Several fathers and sons were stationed at the Jader compound, several others at various other Orlesian Grey Warden compounds. She could feel his eyes boring into her and she fought to meet his eyes, wanting instead to push her chair back and leave him, the gloating, pompous nightmare of a man. She would not give him the satisfaction, now or ever.
"Of course, Warden Commander. I await my assignment." Her tone was calm with just enough deference in it to ensure he knew it was false.
His grey eyes narrowed slightly and he smiled, a vulpine smile that made Leonie more than a little uneasy. But she did not lower her eyes, hoping that any unease would not be noticed. With a man such as Montran, self indulgent and conceited, she doubted he would notice anything less subtle than the sharp stab of a blade. And the image of her doing just that made her smile ever so slightly.
"We shall talk of it more tomorrow. Tonight is your night to celebrate, little one. I will not take that away from you," he replied smoothly and reached out to cover her hand with his.
It was all she could do not to jerk away from him. There were undercurrents that she did not completely understand and it only made her unease grow. But his sexual overtone was glaring and alarming.
She looked down at his large, pale hand as it covered her. It was entirely too smooth for a Grey Warden. Even mages within their ranks had calloused and hardened hands. Soft and weak, just like him. Leonie looked up and met his eyes head on, her own eyes narrowed slightly.
"I think that you should remove your hand, Warden Commander. It is not welcome," she told him coolly.
He smiled again, leaning toward her and bringing his lips close to her ear. "It will be one day, little one," he assured her and she could not prevent the shiver that his words and actions caused. He leaned back, his smile smug. He truly was a walking nightmare.
Casting a glance in Duncan's direction, she saw that he was still talking to Riordan and Ceres. Look at me, look at me and rescue me. But he didn't even glance her way. She realized then that if she wanted to be the adult she claimed she was, she needed to act like one now and not rely on help from Duncan. She took a steadying breath. Perhaps fighting fire with fire was called for.
Leaning into Montran, Leonie made sure her silk clad breasts grazed his arm. She fluttered a soft breath along his neck before bringing her lips close to his ear. She heard his breath catch, saw his eyes half close, could almost smell his arousal.
"If you touch me again, Montran, I will happily take out my boot knife and stab it into your shallow little heart," she whispered in a silken voice. His eyes widened and she saw red creeping up past the collar of his shirt, suffusing his neck.
Without another word, she stood up and walked away, not stopping until she was outside, surprised to find herself standing in the garden. She sank onto a bench, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. She imagined her assignment would be to the back of beyond now, perhaps the tiny outpost in Churneau or even worse, the Nahashin Marshes.
It was a cheap thing for her to do, using her femininity against him. She should feel ashamed as she had always prided herself on not using feminine wiles to get what she wanted. Seeing his look had made it worthwhile and she could not feel any shame about it at all. There was even a bit of pride with herself for handling him on her own. There was also, deeply below the layers of her other emotions, a very real fear that she had made a mortal enemy of Montran.
Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. The garden was awash in blooms, the light breeze fragrant with the scent of marigolds and roses and lavender. Far in the distance she could hear the howl of a wolf, the whisper of night wings. She felt her calm return as she sat in the darkness.
"Leonie? You are the guest of honor, you can't leave yet," Duncan said quietly from behind her.
She startled, a small cry escaping her lips. Sneaky rogue, she thought, trying to calm her heart and steady her voice.
"I just needed some fresh air."
She felt his hand rest lightly on her shoulder. She reached up and took it, turning it over and dropping a light kiss on the palm before pressing it against her cheek. Here was a man with Grey Warden hands, hard and calloused but surprisingly gentle.
"I don't suppose I can talk you into taking me to bed right now?" she asked lightly.
He laughed, an unexpected sound that warmed her in wonderful places. "I think you may be able to, actually."
He bent and she felt his lips light against her neck. She shivered again, her breath hitching as the heat of her blood spread through her like molten honey. Would his touch always have such power over her?
"Of course, first you'll have to tell me what that discussion with Montran was all about."
Leonie chuckled. "The problem with loving a rogue and a thief is that they are far too observant," she said with a wry smile.
Duncan pulled her up and into his arms. "I would not mind hearing that again."
"The part about being observant?" she teased, staring up into his deep brown eyes.
He didn't answer, just bent down and captured her lips in a kiss that seemed to go on forever, soft and sweet and full of the things he couldn't bring himself to utter.
"Now, about that conversation?" he said finally and somewhat reluctantly, it seemed to Leonie. To her delight, his breath was as ragged as her own.
"He was just reminding me that as a new Grey Warden I should expect to get an assignment," she replied glibly.
"Of course, as I have made him a terribly angry, I suspect it will not be a particularly good assignment," Leonie admitted with a rueful laugh.
"And he felt compelled to whisper that information into your ear?" Duncan asked, his tone dry.
"Perhaps he thought he would not be heard over the din?" she supplied hopefully.
Don't push this, please. You'll get angry and do something rash and it will only make things worse. Of course she couldn't really say that. And she had wanted his help earlier.
"That explains why you felt compelled to return the gesture," he responded and there was a hint of steel in his voice.
Is he jealous? Really? That seems entirely unlikely. But it pleased her to think so.
Leonie flushed, but returned his steel in kind. "I was merely making sure he understood both my answer and my meaning."
Duncan stepped back and she knew he was searching for the words that would defuse and not enflame.
"Then there is no need for further discussions about him," he replied and tucking her arm into his, he led her back to her fellow Grey Wardens, staying at her side until the gathering broke up for the night.
And when they went upstairs, she took his hand and pulled him into her room, a teasing smile lighting her face.
"Warden business," she said, closing the door behind them.
She awoke with a start, gasping for breath, bathed in sweat. A nightmare? Oh please, Maker, let it be a nightmare. She felt strong arms around her and a soft murmur in her ear. Thank the Maker.
"I wasn't expecting them to seem so real," she said with a shaky laugh.
She had been warned. She had heard about them first hand and yet in the throes of the dream, the nightmare, she had forgotten, or been arrogant enough to think she would not have them.
Turning and twisting through the dark tunnels, all around her the skittering, guttural noises of thousands of things brushing against her, tangling underfoot, tripping her until she fell on the hard surface, trampled by them as they continued on, the smell of death and decay and the foulest of creatures choking her. Hands reaching out to tear at her flesh and razor sharp teeth biting into her.
She shuddered, clutching at Duncan's shoulder as he cradled her in his arms and just held her, reassuring noises flowing from his throat into her ear.
"Such dreams will come and go, Leonie. You will master them just as you did the taint," he reassured, his deep voice reverberating in his chest. She could hear his heart, steady and calming.
Dawn was chasing away the last vestiges of darkness, making a clear path for the sun's approach. She should get up and get ready for her meeting with Montran but she was too content, resting in Duncan's arms. She would be content to rest there forever, given the opportunity, but reality was a bitter bite, reminding her that their time together was finite, determined by the poisoned blood that coursed through their veins.
She saw it then, clear and inescapable. Their lives would be forever controlled by the taint of their blood and the darkspawn and the miles that separated them. Would she have given him her heart had she understood the sacrifices they would both have to make? Leonie sighed and burrowed even closer, wishing to crawl right into his skin at that moment, because she knew in her heart that come what may, it would be worth it for these moments of pure and unfettered happiness.
"I love you, Duncan," she murmured into the downy softness of dark hair that covered his chest. She did not expect him to respond in kind. Duncan was not a man given to voicing emotions and feelings easily. She knew that and accepted it. But his hand stroking her back stopped briefly and then continued and she heard his heart's rhythm increase. She would be content with that. For now.