Chapter 9: A Beautiful Truth

"The very essence of romance is uncertainty."
― Oscar Wilde


The intensity of Elissa's feelings baffled her. All the hurt and resentment that she had been nursing had so quickly shifted into the aching tenderness she felt for Nathaniel as he kissed her and held her so tightly against him. The only sound in the darkened room was the soft clicking of their lips.

At one moment he pulled away from her.

"When must you depart for Highever?" he asked.

Just a short while ago she had been wishing fervently to depart Amaranthine as soon as possible. But right then, in his arms, she wished time would hold still.

"Tomorrow, after the ceremony," she told him.

He gripped her tighter.

"Why so soon?" he puzzled. "I thought…You won't be arriving at Highever Castle until early the next day!"

She looked at him helplessly.

"I had no say in the matter!"

"So this is to be our last night?" He examined her wistfully.

She said nothing, but buried her face in his chest, a surge of emotion overwhelming her.

She did not want to leave.

"Elissa," he began quietly, "may I stay the remainder of the night, then?"

She nodded wordlessly again, embarrassed by how deeply the thought of departing was troubling her.

He grinned impishly, though.

"I took the liberty of planning for this." He pulled the hem of his red tunic up, revealing a second dark blue tunic beneath it. "This way, I can stay with you until the last moment possible and no one will suspect me of spending the night anywhere other than my quarters."

He appeared so pleased by his ruse, she couldn't help laughing.

"I fail to see what is so humorous." He feigned indignation.

"It was a bit presumptuous of you to assume I'd be letting you stay, wasn't it?" she teased.

His crestfallen expression was irresistibly endearing, she thought, still laughing as she kissed his cheek.

"So that's how it is, my lady? You take advantage of me and then cast me aside?"

She put on a calloused air.

"Well, once you've fulfilled your purpose, I see no reason for—"

"Fulfilled my purpose?" he cried out with delighted indignation. "And that is all I am good for? Honestly, your words cut me to the quick!" he went on dramatically.

A little part of her found vindication in his bemusement.

"You don't truly believe I am of a sentimental ilk—" she began coyly.

He languidly kissed the base of her neck.

"…of the type that mopes about, lovelorn—"

Nathaniel interrupted her again, this time seeking her lips with heady need. She found her resistance waning.

"What are you doing?" she asked between kisses.

"Trying to fulfill my purpose—perhaps if I perform it well, you won't be as inclined to discard me?" He arched an eyebrow.


Elissa wanted to lose herself in Nathaniel's caresses, reciprocate his touch, but she found herself teetering between caution and the desire to surrender. Any bolder gesture on her part, such as the hands that undid his trousers, or the way her naked body sought contact against his warm skin, was tempered by thoughts of his earlier indifference— she was suddenly assailed by the unwelcome thought that perhaps Nathaniel had been spending time in a similar fashion with Oleanna.

"What's the matter?" Nathaniel asked her breathlessly.

What guarantee do I have?...How do I know?...her thoughts niggled at her.

"It's nothing," she tried to reassure him.

"Something's the matter," he asserted, peering into her eyes. "I can tell," he continued more gently. "Won't you tell me?"

She hesitated, unsure as to how to reply.

"Are you in any pain since this afternoon?" he wondered with concern, sitting up. "Is that it?"

"A little tender, perhaps," she admitted, relieved to have a distraction.

He stroked her hip pensively.

"Should we stop?" he asked.

She couldn't tell him that the greater discomfort came from not knowing how he felt about her—whether or not she meant more than a good romp to him.

"No," she replied.

"I'll be very gentle then." He pushed himself up, over her, brushing his lips downwards in a trail of small kisses, past her breasts, over her stomach, pausing just below her navel.

She expected him to touch her the same way he had in the hayloft and she closed her eyes— the pleasant throbbing between her legs growing stronger in anticipation. Her eyes shot open again, though when she felt his warm breath against her inner thigh. She sat up on her elbows and glanced down at him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Kissing it all better," he informed her slyly.

Certainly not like this! Not there! She thought nervously.

Before she could react, his tip of his tongue stroked her clit. She gasped, a ripple of excitement coursing through her. Any protests she had begun to utter fell away with each nimble flick of his tongue.

She succumbed to the mounting tension, her fingers running through his hair as she faintly moaned. Her fear of appearing improper, of appearing wanton were all replaced by her heightening pleasure, her brow furrowing from his agonizingly sweet teasing just before she was overcome by the intense pulsing of her release.

There was nothing else but Nathaniel. At that moment she felt wanted and desired. How could any of that be wrong?

She thought the same thing when later on she insisted in returning his gesture and noticed the lust in his eyes when she knelt between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. She tentatively ran her tongue over his erection until he eventually pulled away from her and cupped her face, leaning down to kiss her mouth roughly, urgently.

"Not yet, he whispered, "I want to be inside you," he told her as he guided her back into the bed.

He entered her with ease this time and she wrapped her legs tightly around him. She raised her hips, meeting his thrusts, their need for each other raw. She stroked his face, her hands trembling as he shut his eyes and uttered her name softly just before he reached his climax. He gasped, overcome, before they both fell silent, clasping each other tightly.

Nothing else, she sighed, nestling into his arms, his nose nuzzling hers before they kissed tenderly. Nothing… but this love.


She awoke to footsteps in the washroom, her eyes squinting at the bright light pouring in from the window. She turned her head around on the pillow, too tired to even attempt a lucid thought when she sensed him sit beside her.

She moaned faintly in protest.

"Elissa!" he called, shaking her gently. "I have to leave in a bit," he warned her. "I'm supposed to meet with my family before the ceremony."

"Why so early?" she rolled around to face him sleepily.

He chuckled.

"It's not that early. I hope you know I'm forgoing breakfast to spend these last moments with you!" he censured her.

She stretched lazily, grinning at him.

"While I appreciate the gesture, I am sure you will survive…"

He pretended to contemplate her with disapproval before yanking down the covers. She yelped from both the surprise and the sudden chill.

"What are you doing?" she cried out, folding her arm over her breasts and cupping a hand modestly over her sex.

He grinned back at her appreciatively.

"Committing every bit of you to memory," he revealed in a playful tone. One of his fingers gingerly traced the outline of her lips. He grew serious after a moment, his eyes downcast.

"I might not have the chance to speak to you freely again once I leave this room."

She winced, growing disheartened at the thought they would be returning to their expected roles in just moments.

He drew the covers up over her and turned towards the nightstand. He indicated a cup and a small white packet leaning against it.

"I brought you something…Stir the contents into the water," he instructed her. "You will not conceive a child if you take one of these after we've lain together."

She stared at the little packet.

"It's safe—it contains some felandaris, though, so make sure you eat something soon after you take it."

Elissa sat up in the bed, clutching the covers around her, and took the packet delicately. He planted a tender kiss over her forehead.

She tried to eye him gamely.

"So knowledgeable! You could be the apothecary's apprentice!"

He grinned, standing up and heading towards the washroom again.

"So do you get a discount for being such a good customer?" she teased, her fingers smoothing the packet's creases.

He halted, his brow furrowing slightly.

"You make me sound like quite the rake, my lady."

"I can see your luggage for the Free Marches already: one trunk holding a few clothes and personal effects, and a second filled with these little packets," she provoked, despite her inner pleas that she stop. She bit her lip as she peered at him out of the corner of her eyes. He had fallen into that quiet, brooding expression she recognized well.

Ah, I went too far, she realized with a pang.

"Elissa," he began after a moment. "I won't deny that I've had a modest share of …enjoyment. But… I've always been considerate. I've always been frank about the extent of my affections," he told her pointedly.

She continued staring forward, disconcerted, and gathered her courage.

"Does that mean you will be giving one of these to Lady Oleanna, too?"

He glanced at her in disbelief.

"What are you saying?"

"I am wondering how frank you have been with her," she stated, tilting her head towards the door.

"You know what my current circumstances are. I told you my stance on that matter. Why would you insinuate such a thing?"

"You both appear quite…happy together," she quipped.

What is this ugliness? she thought in bewilderment, her stomach sinking at her sharp words.

"I am expected to squire her during her stay. Why is this suddenly a problem?"

"You didn't as much as look my way last night," she snapped.

His expression hardened.

"Do you have any idea of what the consequences would be if anyone were to suspect that we are together? Do you know how many eyes trail after us, trying to read the intentions behind our every action? You are chastising me for fulfilling my obligations? Then I'm afraid you will have to remain cross with me. It is for your own good. I will be in enough trouble once Oleanna leaves without any hint of a future betrothal," he revealed.

He eyed the doorway.

"I cannot believe you would think I possess such poor character after everything that has transpired between us," he stated firmly.

He headed towards the door briskly. Elissa leaned across the bed, seizing his arm.

"I'm sorry!" she cried.

He remained still, unyielding.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, genuinely contrite. "I…" she hesitated. "Come now! You can't expect me to be indifferent to watching you with her after…yesterday. It's not very pleasant for me, either," she protested.

Nathaniel relented; he approached the bed and sat down once more.

"Elissa, are you…jealous?"

She said nothing, but averted her eyes instead.

Inexperienced… and immature, she censured herself.

"I don't think you understand," he insisted, gazing at her. "I'm not…You aren't just a notch on my bedpost," he stated.

"I was that bad?" she ribbed him, trying to lighten the mood between them. "I don't even get to count?"

He didn't laugh this time.

"Don't say that," he asked quietly. "Can't you see?"

She cast him a perplexed glance.

"I've been in love with you since that first afternoon long ago when you first slugged me mercilessly in the courtyard at Highever." He smiled weakly at her, gauging her reaction.

She remained speechless.

"You don't need to say anything," he continued. "But it would not sit well with me if we parted ways and you never knew—especially after yesterday."

"That far back?" she asked faintly, touched by his words.

At her reaction, he took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips.

"Never before –or since— have I met anyone else I could be myself so completely with. When you spent that afternoon with me, it was…" he paused, reminiscing. "I was completely dazed," he said softly. "Although," he quickly amended, "that could've been because of all the waster strikes you landed on my head."

They both smiled. She contemplated him pensively.

"I…I suppose I had always hoped…" her voice trailed away and she turned her head again, feeling suddenly tongue-tied.

"Are you telling me…" His smile broadened and he leaned around her, following her bashful gaze. "…That you feel the same way?"

She nodded timidly, cheeks stinging with a deep blush. She felt his arms encircle her before he fell back into the bed, with her lying over him.

"Maker's Breath!" he uttered, sweeping strands of hair off her face. "It's more perfect than what I ever dared hope for." He smiled warmly.

"What did you think?" she teased lightly. "That I go about Ferelden exploring haylofts?"

He laughed.

"I'd like to be your only companion in such endeavors." He cast her a meaningful glance.

Outside they heard voices in the courtyard. Nathaniel raised his grey eyes towards the window and the offending sound, resentment flashing across his expression.

"What now?" she asked, unsure as to what answer she expected.

He drew in a deep breath.

"I have to leave. I am late as it is: not that it would be unusual…I could hardly deprive my father of his daily rebuke." His eyes returned to stare at her. "The timing is miserable," he sighed. "I wish we were far away from here." He squeezed her arms. "I wish none of this mattered—that it was just the two of us."

He released her hesitantly and smoothed his tunic.

"Write to me. Send me letters in the care of Brother Farlan in Amaranthine," he suggested, smoothing down his dark hair. "He's a trusted friend—he'll proceed with discretion," he decided, satisfied with the solution.

She pulled her nightshirt over her head and walked towards the door as well. She opened the door slightly and poked her head out to examine the hallway. It was empty, despite voices floating down from the stairwell.

"All clear," she whispered, looking back at him.

He pushed her against the wall and gave her a farewell kiss. She was struck by the bittersweetness of the moment.

Found and lost within moments, she lamented.

He rested his forehead against hers, his arms embracing her.

"I'd give everything not to have to leave this room right now."

She said nothing, already mourning his departure before he had even left.

"Know that if I am not glancing your way during the celebration it is because it would weaken my resolve to uphold my parents' pretenses," he assured her. "But…I love you, Elissa Cousland," he told her gently. "Remember that."

She leaned forward, kissing him sweetly.

"And I love you, Nathaniel Howe."

They both smiled shyly, as if they'd uttered a vow to each other.

"Write to me," he pleaded, before disappearing past the door.


Elissa shut the door and leaned against it pensively. She commanded herself to go about her morning routine, reaching for the dress she'd brought for the ceremony.

What have we done? She thought, a feeling of foreboding emerging as she stared at the water in the wash basin. What can possibly come of this? There is no easy, simple solution that would allow us to be together.

She shooed the unpleasant thoughts away, replacing them instead with the memories of the previous night, the heat of his touch, the intensity of his words.

We love each other, she thought defiantly. That's all that is needed.