"So, pet, I hear you spent the night with our little peasant."
Fenris had just slipped into his master's study when Danarius spoke. He dropped to his knees in front of the desk and bowed his head respectfully.
"Yes, master."
"And tell me, pet, whatever did she want from you?" Danarius' tone was gloating. Risking a quick glance up he saw that his master looked quite complacent; Hadriana, standing at the side of the desk, wore a scowl.
"A massage, master."
"And that took all night?" Danarius' tone went politely incredulous. It was the tone he used against his fellow magisters, not one he ever wasted on Fenris. This must be for Hadriana's benefit.
"Several hours, master. Then she said I could return to my room."
"Well, well. Not all night, after all, then. What a pity, our little peasant doesn't seem to know what to do with you. Tsk tsk."
"Magister, she was deliberately defying me." Hadriana's voice was level, but her anger was still driving her and she wore a slight scowl. She never would have pushed the point with so little encouragement, otherwise.
"I don't think so, Apprentice. She hasn't the cunning for it. No, it is far more likely that she wants to use my little wolf herself, but isn't quite sure how to go about it." Another quick glance showed that Hadriana didn't look convinced, but that Danarius was. Well, it wasn't anything that didn't agree with Fenris' own interpretation of events. He remained silent.
"Honestly, though, anything that prevents the sort of disruptions we have already suffered through her presence is welcome. Fenris, has she given you any hint that she will try to pursue the point?"
Fenris shivered, fighting down his anger. Anger at Ashara for so casually joining the ranks of Hadriana and Danarius. Anger at his master for being so willing to throw him at her. None of the anger showed in his voice, however, as he answered evenly, "She has said I should return to her rooms each night after you dismiss me, master."
Danarius laughed with delight, but Hadriana's scowl deepened. The magister caught her expression, of course. "Oh, come now, Hadriana. You have other toys, surely you can make this minor sacrifice for the greater good. Go ahead, Fenris, you may follow the little peasant's orders. No one will interfere with you."
Fenris stood and bowed deeply in acknowledgement, before moving to his position behind Danarius' desk to stand guard. His eyes moved in his accustomed vigilance, but his mind wandered. She hadn't treated him any differently on their walk this morning, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He had plenty of time to brood, but not enough information to draw any conclusions.
The next several nights were a repeat of the first. Each night, after Danarius dismissed Fenris from his duties as bodyguard, Fenris would return to his room to change and get some dinner. Then he would go to Ashara's room.
Each night, he knocked lightly on the door, and slipped inside when she called a welcome. Sometimes, she was reading in the large chair by the fire; other nights she was pacing in front of the hearth, hands moving in gestures that held no meaning to him but which spoke of frustration; once, she was sitting at the small desk, writing something. No matter what she had been doing before he entered, by the time he had closed the door behind him, she had put it aside and turned her entire attention to him.
She had a way of looking at him, her head tipped slightly to one side, the corner of her bottom lip caught in her teeth as her eyes moved over him searchingly. He found it disconcerting, and he was always careful to avoid her eyes. She didn't usually try to catch his gaze, but these searching looks seemed to be the exception. After much too long for his comfort, she would shrug, and move to sit on the hearth rug with her back to him.
Over the last few days, new comforts had silently appeared there. A pile of cushions had grown, neatly stacked out of the way. She always offered him his choice so he could be comfortable as he knelt behind her. A new stack of books appeared, as well, books which she could read aloud while he was there.
She seemed to prefer the journals of adventurers who had made long trips across Thedas. They always ran into dire hazards, both natural and man-made, but made it through relatively unscathed. When he dared to grumpily point this out, she laughed. "Well, the ones who don't survive rarely write books about their experience."
He was slowly starting to not hate touching her. She never touched him, never asked him to touch anything more of her than her clothed shoulders and neck. He had to admit that he was slowly forgetting to dread the evenings; more than that, he was starting to look forward to them as much as the morning walks.
Sometimes she sat facing him, and instead of a massage, she just talked. He piled up more of her cushions and lounged in front of the fire, finding the heat comforting even in the mild Tevinter winter. She apparently read quite a bit about current events in the Imperium, and wished to discuss them far longer than Fenris' attention lasted. The only current events he cared about happened in this mansion, and largely to him.
Eventually, Danarius stopped asking for a report of their nighttime activities, and ordered Fenris to tell him when she finally made a move. Danarius found his guest horribly backwards and clueless, but this amused him more than anything else, and the general atmosphere in the manor held less tension than it had for years.
Hadriana was another story.
She fumed at the perceived slight, she hated the magister's guest for denying her Fenris; her anger built, though she hid it from Danarius, until she decided to act.
When Fenris returned to his quarters one evening, dismissed earlier than usual by his master, he found Hadriana waiting for him. He tried to ignore her as he changed, but she blocked his door and only let him get out of his armor before her hands were running over him. Fenris locked his jaw, and informed her as politely as possible through clenched teeth that he was expected elsewhere.
"Oh, come now, Fenris. Surely you've missed our nights together. You must be frustrated, getting no release for so long. She is the most horrible tease, isn't she?"
"She is not. She has said that I must go to her rooms directly after being dismissed. The master will not like it if she is upset."
"Oh, don't worry, she'll never know. Danarius dismissed you early, after all. There's plenty of time for some fun before she'll be expecting you." Her voice changed from cloying to harsh. "I've waited long enough. Get on the bed."
Seeing no escape, Fenris did as he was told.
Being short on time, Hadriana was more brutally direct than normal. She poured magic into his markings, gleeful when he writhed in pain. She had learned long ago which spells to lay into the markings that wound around the length of his cock to keep him aroused. She did so now, watching with delight as his body responded against his will. She didn't waste any time, mounting him quickly as he lay on the bed.
Every muscle in his body tensed with the pain of the magic she poured into his markings. She wreathed her hands in raw magic, and dragged them over his skin. She would be worn out after this, using her magic so recklessly, but he knew she didn't care. He tensed against the pain, his whole attention on controlling the markings as she poured more power into them. If he phased now, Danarius would punish him for wasting the power of the lyrium brands. Hadriana knew this, and delighted in pushing him dangerously close to losing control. The fact that his attention was so focused on the markings meant he had none to spare for the more natural reactions of his body; he wasn't able to hide these from Hadriana, which delighted her.
She rode him through two of her own orgasms, though the magic she had set into the lyrium veins around his cock both ensured his erection and denied his own release. Usually, she let the magic fade after she was done with him and left him to see to his own release while she watched. Sometimes, the show inspired her to re-cast the spells and start over. Tonight, she smirked at him as she put her clothing back in order.
"That was very nice, little wolf, thank you. I have missed you so much, and it was lovely to feel how much you had missed me, too." She ignored him as he shook his head in a denial he didn't dare to voice. "I know how much of a hurry you're in to go attend that ignorant peasant, so I won't keep you."
Fenris looked down his body to his still-rampant cock, horror dawning as he caught her meaning. Hadriana's laugh was full of malicious delight as she stepped out of his door.
"Don't worry, the spell won't last all night - just a few hours. Do go and see if you can convince the peasant to help you with that. Perhaps she just needs a little encouragement." She had left the room before Fenris could start begging her for release; though he would have, if it meant he didn't have to face the shame of going to Ashara's room in this state.
Fenris lay on his bed, trying to force his body into obedience by sheer willpower. It didn't work, and he could hear the slaves moving around in the hallway, letting him know he was now later than usual in going to Ashara's room. Reluctantly, he rose and dressed, trying to disguise his condition as much as possible.
He knocked on Ashara's door, trying to convince himself that she wouldn't notice his arousal, or the persistent color embarrassment had put in his cheeks.
She was sitting in the large chair near the fireplace, reading, when he slipped into her room. She was already closing the book and looking over at him with a smile, when she suddenly went very still. Her eyes flicked over him, once, then she carefully opened her book again and set it in her lap.
"I just need to finish this chapter, Fenris. Please do make yourself comfortable while you wait." She didn't look at him, her entire attention focused on her book.
Fenris crossed the room, carefully keeping his back toward her, and arranged the cushions he usually chose in front of the fire. He didn't understand her sudden interest in her book, but he wasn't about to argue the point.
Fenris settled himself on the cushions in his usual sprawl, before realizing how exposed the position left him in his current state. He huffed with frustration, turning to lay on his side. This was more concealing, but much less comfortable. He flopped over to lay on his stomach; this was the worst option, putting pressure on his erection. He moved hurriedly into a crouch, glaring at the cushions as if they were somehow at fault. He sat for a moment, knees drawn up and hunched forward, but this was uncomfortable as well, and he wouldn't be able to sit this way for very long. As he tried to come up with a position that was both concealing and comfortable, he heard Ashara stir behind him, and froze.
"Sitting on the floor would probably be more comfortable with something to lean against. You're welcome to use the front of this chair, if you like."
Her voice was quiet, and disinterested. When he looked back, he found she hadn't even raised her eyes from her page. His constant motion must have been distracting her. However, the chair she sat in was large enough that her legs - settled off to the side as she leaned into the corner of the chair - left plenty of room for his back.
Cautiously, expecting her to look up and discover his shame at any second, he moved a cushion back to the chair, and settled on it. With his knees drawn up, and his face turned toward the fire, he felt safe from any notice she might take of his condition. Leaning against the chair was more comfortable. To his surprise, he found that being this close to her was relaxing.
When had he stopped seeing her as 'not a threat' and started seeing her as a comfort instead? How had the slight physical contact of nightly massages made him as comfortable with her personally as he was with her careful, quiet demeanor? He shifted, and the brush of material over his erect cock had his breath catching in his throat. Could he even trust these feelings, while still in the grip of Hadriana's spell?
When a slight shift of her position brought Ashara's left leg closer to him, Fenris didn't stop to wonder at this new desire; he simply leaned over the small amount necessary for his shoulder to press lightly against her knee. He let his arm lay along her calf, and leaned against her slightly. His breath caught in his throat, Fenris waited for her reaction to his boldness.
There was no reaction. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire, and the quiet swish of pages turning behind him. She didn't move away, though, so Fenris stared into the fire and remembered to breathe. He didn't move away, either.
