Fenris climbed the stairs to his room, feeling exhausted, both physically and mentally. He'd stayed far later at Merrill's place than he ever would have imagined himself doing; it was well past dark, and the walk from the alienage through Lowtown and up to Hightown had been dangerous. It had also been a blur, his mind too preoccupied to pay much attention to his surroundings; he was lucky not to have been jumped. Perhaps that also explained why he had walked well into the room before noticing that Alistair was still awake – awake, and not alone.
Fenris slowed and stopped, staring at the sight of Isabela and Alistair in bed together. They were both naked, on top of the covers and lit by a single candle on the small table near the bed, Isabela slowly riding Alistair. Even as he watched, mouth going dry with surprised arousal, Alistair gave a soft cry and arched back, his stomach sucking in abruptly as his head and shoulders pressed backwards into the mattress, hands tightening convulsively on the sheets.
He should, perhaps, have left – they must have assumed he was gone overnight when he hadn't returned that evening; Hawke's adventures often ran to more than a single day in length. But seeing Alistair and Isabela like that, imagining from his own experience with her what the pirate might have just done to get such a strong reaction from the warrior under her, he was suddenly fully aroused, almost painfully so given the constriction of his clothing. Without considering what he was doing, he moved closer for a better view.
He should have considered how difficult it was to sneak up on a talented rogue; Isabela turned her head to look at him even as she kept up the slowly rippling motion of her hips, a welcoming smile lighting her face. She tilted her head back, turning just slightly and moistening her lips in obvious invitation. An invitation he found himself unable to resist, taking the final few footsteps to stand beside the bed, leaning down to kiss her, one hand rising to card into the strands of hair at the back of her head, the other moving to caress her closest breast. She moaned and arched her back, pushing herself against his cupped hand.
"Oh," Alistair said in a very small, surprised voice. Fenris stopped the kiss, turning his head to look at his friend. Alistair looked startled, eyes wide, an embarrassed flush colouring his cheeks as he stared up at the two of them.
Fenris started to straighten up, meaning to retreat, but Isabela's hands caught at him, pulling him down for another kiss. He could feel a flush of self-conscious embarrassment heating his own cheeks, was sure that he and Alistair must be a matched set now, equally red.
"Stay," Isabela said softly when she ended the kiss. "It's all right. Isn't it?" she asked, turning her head to look at Alistair calmly.
He was even redder in the face than Fenris had imagined he would be, his wide eyes looking first at Isabela, then at Fenris, then back to her. "I... I'm not sure..." he stuttered. "I mean, I've never..." he trailed off.
To Fenris' surprise, the other man sounded more hesitant than off-put or frightened by the idea. Isabela smiled reassuringly at them each in turn, releasing Fenris' head to lean down and touch her hand caressingly to Alistair's cheek, pushing his sweat-soaked hair back from his face. "It will be just fine. Let it be like that first night... just listen to me, and let me guide you. You'll like it... we all will. I promise."
The warrior chewed on his lip, looking searchingly into her eyes for a long moment, then glanced nervously at Fenris. "All right," he abruptly said.
"Good," she whispered, and leaned down, giving him a lengthy kiss. Reward, Fenris assumed, feeling his own initial excitement returning as he watched them. Seeing the way Alistair's hands tangled into her hair, hearing the little sounds they both were making as the kiss went on and on – he suddenly thought he understood the little "oh" that Alistair had made on first catching sight of him. Surprise, yes... but excitement as well.
"Help me undress him," Isabela said to Alistair as she straightened back up, moving off of him with a self-composure that belied the essential ungracefulness of the act. Alistair, of course, flushed darkly again, as Isabela deftly caught up a corner of the sheets to wipe herself dry. He did the same, look far more self-conscious about the act than she did. Isabela moved to the edge of the bed, still on her knees, and began to help Fenris with unfastening and removing his armour, her nimble fingers making short work of the complicated task. Alistair rose to his feet, and stood by uncertainly until Isabela handed him a piece of armour. "Put this away," she told him, smiling reassuringly at him.
Alistair seemed much happier once he had a task he was comfortable doing, and happily went back and forth between the bed and Fenris' armour stand, hanging up pieces as the two removed them, seemingly not even conscious of his own nakedness any more. Not, that is, until Fenris was equally nude. He came to a stop a pace or two away from the elf, his earlier uncertainty returning, hands moving to cup over his groin.
Isabela smiled warmly at both of them, and held out one hand toward Alistair. He took it, hesitantly, and she tugged on it, drawing him closer, pulling him down for another kiss. She whispered something to him, too; just what, Fenris could not hear. But when Alistair straightened up he was smiling again, an odd little still-partially-embarrassed twist of his lips. Only then did Isabela offer a hand to Fenris as well.
He accepted it easily, let her draw him near for a kiss of his own. She whispered to him, too – "Be good," she told him, bringing a slight smirk to his own lips. Unlike Alistair, he was experienced with both sexes, though it was not an experience he had any wish to share with the other man. Nor, he was sure, one that the other man had any wish to experience. Isabela's words were unnecessary; and yet they had served to remind him that he was more widely experienced than the other man, that Alistair might be finding this whole thing far more worrisome than he himself did, and need more reassurance and more careful handling than Fenris himself would. Perhaps that reminder was all Isabela had truly intended by her words. He gave her a very slight nod, as he straightened from their kiss, then looked at Alistair.
"Now what?" the other man asked, sounding a touch uncertain.
Isabela smiled again. "Now you both come here," she said, moving back towards the middle of the bed, and patting the mattress to either side of her. "And we'll have some fun together."
Fenris walked around the foot of the bed, getting in on her right, while Alistair somewhat nervously got into bed on her left. She leaned over and kissed him first, caressing his face with one hand. It was a very lengthy kiss; she kept it going until he finally relaxed again, before she finally ended it and turned to kiss Fenris as well. Not that Fenris minded; watching Isabela kissing another man that thoroughly was rather... warming. Judging by the expression on Alistair's face by the time she'd finished kissing Fenris as well, the other man also found it so.
They progressed slowly, Isabela having the two of them handle her. They were both hesitant at first, and self-conscious, shying away from anything that might make either of them accidentally touch. But as nothing worse happened than Isabela showing her approval of their first careful, guarded touches and occasional brief kiss, they both began to relax and explore her more fully, their hands sweeping over her skin, kisses turning from brief pecks into longer explorations, eventually gaining enough confidence to begin using their mouths elsewhere on her as well. It was exciting, Fenris found, seeing someone else touching her as he did, seeing her reacting to what someone else was doing, not just himself. Sweeping his hand down her stomach, feeling her muscles flexing under his touch as she moaned, not because of the feather-light brush of his hand, but because of what Alistair was doing at the same time to her breast. Hearing her cry out at his touch a little later, the cry muffled by Alistair's kiss. He was soon achingly hard; Alistair the same, if he was any judge of the matter.
As they became more comfortable with what they were doing, they also became less concerned about brushing up against each other; it was Isabela they were focused on. And they knew they could trust each other, that any touching was accidental, not intentional. They began co-operating in what they were doing, and somehow it seemed a natural thing. One would tease her nipple, then the other would suck and nibble on it; kisses were taken in turn, hands drifted here and there, teasing and toying, drawing louder cries and moans from the woman. Nor was she merely a passive recipient in what was happening; her own hands were roaming too, her mouth as well when any part of them was in reach, drawing sounds and reactions from them too.
When she finally guided Alistair onto his back again, and moved to straddle him, resuming what he and she had been doing when Fenris entered the room, it seemed the most natural thing in the world for Fenris to move behind her, straddling Alistair's thighs as she straddled his hips. Natural to continue kissing and caressing her as she rode the other warrior, her buttocks brushing back against him as she rolled her hips, repeated firm pressure against his length that had him moaning and gasping nearly as much as Alistair was. Natural to be watching over her shoulder, one hand cupping her breast while his other rested low on her tummy, feeling the movement within, when Alistair cried out and came.
She lifted herself off Alistair smoothly, turning enough to grip Fenris' arm and urge him to the side. "Lie down," she told him. "Your turn now." And then it was him on his back, and her lowering herself onto him, hotter and wetter than she'd ever been, her hips resuming their rolling movement. He cried out, hands lifting to steady her hips as she rode him, too. He looked to the side; Alistair was still lying there, chest heaving as he caught his breath, watching the pair of them avidly. Their eyes met, and Alistair suddenly smiled, then tiredly heaved himself upright, moving to take the same position Fenris had had before. It felt good, lying there under both of them, watching Isabela respond to Alistair's caresses, feeling her respond, muscles clenching tight deep inside, whenever Alistair did something she particularly liked. Seeing both of them looking down at him, brown eyes and amber, both widely-blown.
Isabela came first, arching back against Alistair, the warrior's strong arms supporting her as she trembled and cried out and rode out her crest. As close as Fenris had been even before she mounted him, it was enough to tip him over the edge as well, his cry even louder, his movements more frenzied, though at least lying down as he was he didn't have to worry about his own balance.
Then they were tumbling together in a pleasantly exhausted pile, chests heaving as they all three caught their breaths, Isabela still in between the two men. After a few minutes, as their excitement ebbed, Alistair sat up and yanked the end of the already-soiled sheet free, and began wiping Isabela clean. That seemed to signal a general re-arrangement, all three of them sitting up and shifting around to get the sheet out from under them. They each claimed a corner of it, and dabbed and wiped at each other, until they were all towelled more-or-less clean and dry again, then Alistair wadded up the sheet and tossed it into the corner.
Isabela sighed contentedly, then chuckled, throwing her arms wide to wrap around both of them. "That was magnificent," she declared. "We should do that again some time."
Fenris and Alistair exchanged a look. Alistair cracked first, grinning and then laughing softly. "It was pretty good. Sure," he agreed, blushing darkly.
Fenris just smiled, then nodded. "All right," he agreed.
Isabela grinned, then gave them each a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek in turn, first Fenris, then Alistair. "Good," she said, then sighed again, followed by a yawn as she let her arms drop back to her sides. "Magnificent, but tiring. Sleep?"
"Yes," Fenris agreed. They lay down again, squirming around to find a more comfortable position. They ended with the two men on their sides, facing inwards, each with an arm draped over Isabela between them. She made a contented sound, wiggling a little more, then they lay still.
Fenris was drifting toward sleep when his stomach gurgled. He tried to ignore it, but a moment later it gave a second, embarrassingly loud rumble.
Isabela laughed softly. "Hungry?" she asked, sounding amused.
"Actually, yes," he admitted, and sighed, moving to disentangle himself from the two of them and sit up. "I didn't eat earlier," he explained, and slipped out of bed, padding bare-foot – and bare-arsed – across the floor to the tin pantry where the food was stored.
Alistair was propped up on one elbow now. "Why not?" he asked, frowning slightly, looking puzzled.
Fenris frowned too as he opened the pantry, taking out some cheese and a handful of dried fruit. "I was visiting Merrill and my sister. I was in no mood to eat."
That had both of them sitting up and watching him. "Visiting them? Whatever for?" Isabela asked, sounding perplexed.
"What did she have to say for herself?" Alistair asked, a more to-the-point question.
Fenris frowned again, then turned away. He put the handful of food down on a plate, then abruptly opened the pantry and took out more cheese and fruit, and a handful of hard biscuits, adding it all to the plate; a good-sized snack for three, not just enough for him. He picked it up in one hand, and a bottle of wine in the other, before turning and walking back over to the bed.. "Here," he said, holding out the plate. "This is going to take a while, and I'm not going to explain on an empty stomach, or without any wine to hand."