A/N: Smut warning at the beginning.

Solona groaned in pain, causing Leliana to roll her eyes.

"If you hurt so much, you can always get healing."

"You know it doesn't work like that, Leli. Even when I heal myself, I'm still stuck with bruising."

It was true. Leliana had seen it. After a fight, Solona would come to bed sometimes covered in bruises, whereas Leliana's pale skin was rarely marred by anything – the joy of being an archer, small, and fast.

"Fine, fine. Lie down, I will rub your back."

"Oh, bless you, you are the most beautiful-" Solona kissed her "-amazing-" another kiss "-wonderful woman-"

"Enough!" Leliana giggled, batting her away. "Take off your shirt and lie on the bed. If I'm going to let your horse toss you, then the least I can do is try to relieve some of your aches and pains."

The arl was returning to health rapidly with Wynne's attention. Since their return several days before, it felt as though Leliana could not get a moment alone with Solona, however. Eamon had declared the two wardens Champions of Redcliffe, and sent invitations for a fete in their honor. Solona hadn't been happy about the delay, but Leliana had explained why it was necessary.

"The Arl must show that Loghain failed," she had explained. "Eamon must show that he is healthy, must show that Loghain failed in his assassination attempt, and spread word of his treachery and your good deeds. It lends credence to the story that it was Loghain, and not you, who was the traitor at Ostagar. The groundwork for the Landsmeet begins here, Solona."

She had then explained that Eamon's gift to them – horses for everyone – would allow them to make up the time. It would be a worthy investment of time, in the end.

There was only one problem with this plan.

"I don't know how to ride," Solona had confessed before looking over to Wynne. "Do you?"

"No," Wynne had answered, shaking her head.

"How do you not know how to ride a horse?" Alistair had been incredulous.

"We didn't exactly get a lot of chances out on an island in the middle of a damned lake," was the heated response.

Leliana, Alistair, and Zevran had spent the last three days teaching the two Circle mages how to ride a horse. Alistair and Leliana were of the opinion that the only way to tame Solona's stallion – a kingly gift, no doubt, but willful, to say the least – was to let them have it out. It had resulted in Solona being thrown more times than Leliana could now count.

Solona had complained that Wynne did not have to learn this way. Leliana had replied that Wynne had been gifted a calm, sturdy mare, who had accepted her as a rider with no problem. The mage-warden had simply glared over at Zevran sitting behind Wynne on the mare, making sure her grip with her hands and feet were correct. And getting as physically close as he could at every opportunity, Leliana did not fail to note.

So truly the least she could do was help Solona relax enough to sleep well.

The mage's shirt came up and off, and Leliana was once again momentarily stunned into inactivity. The sight before her was just so marvelous: the chiseled muscles across her shoulders and down her back, incredibly toned arms accompanied by small but perky breasts. Solona's body, even when she hadn't been all muscle, had always been rather straight all the way down, without a lot of the curves that often marked a woman feminine and attractive. But her tall, proud bearing, coupled with the hint of feminine curvature – even with all that hard muscle – made for a woman Leliana found more attractive than any she had ever been with.

Solona smirked at her, deliberately stretching out as she lay on her stomach on the bed. The bed was large, as was the room – the opposite of what Leliana was granted. They had each been given a room, and when she was led to hers, she found her things had already been delivered. It had been easy enough to simply pick them up – she didn't have much – and tote them over to Solona's room, which was quite large, as befitted a Champion of Redcliffe, apparently. She didn't mind, but she did rather enjoy scandalizing the servants that first morning when they came in to draw a bath and found the two of them lying naked together. Served them right for not knocking.

"Are you going to stare all night?"

She shook herself free of her reflection, glaring at her lover with an amused smirk. She sauntered over, enjoying the way Solona's eyes immediately snapped to her swaying hips. "That's better," she said, her smile knowing. "Now, stay here, I'll be right back."

She retrieved the bathing and massage oil she had requested the first day, which now lived in the small, attached bathing chamber. Returning to the bed, she immediately straddled Solona's thighs, pouring oil into her hands and rubbing them together before beginning to rub the stiffness from her lover's muscles.

The feeling of the oil between the two of them was wonderful, and she got lost a little in tracing the contours of Solona's back. The mage was indeed full of knots, and seemed to be genuinely appreciating having them rubbed out. It was, however, incredibly distracting to have the woman moaning her appreciation, out loud and abundantly.

It did give her an idea, though.

"Take off your trousers."

"Wh- what?"

"You heard me," Leliana answered, moving so Solona could comply. Fully naked, she resumed her position, Leliana once again straddling her legs, though lower this time. Pouring more oil, she began to knead Solona's lower back. She moved down to her buttocks, smirking at Solona's moans of pleasure.

Here was the tricky part, though. "Do not move or speak," she instructed. They had yet to play any games like this, but Leliana had long ago accepted that her sexual tastes were… varied, to say the least. As much as she loved making love to Solona, she missed bedroom play. And she had only ever gotten to be in the dominant role with her meaningless flings. It was high time to introduce it, and she wanted to direct it. Marjolaine had never allowed it. Solona would. They trusted each other enough for that.

"What do you mean-"

"Shh, Solona. I said no talking."

She began kneading the backs of her lover's thighs, but altered her pressur. She teased here, tickled there, but only momentarily. It was having the effect she was hoping for, however: Solona was becoming visibly aroused, her fingers twisting into the sheets, little whimpers escaping her throat as she jumped with each of Leliana's touches.

After a time, it became clear that Solona was losing her self-control. She was behaving herself, however, not saying a word, not asking for anything, and so Leliana felt it was time to reward her for her good behavior. She shifted one hand under Solona's hip, a gentle pressure getting Solona's hips angled exactly how she wanted them. She let out a soft "ah" when Solona's sex was revealed, already parted and practically dripping with arousal. Making sure her hands were coated in the oil – which she knew from experience was safe to use in this manner – she coaxed a searching finger between the delicious folds now presented to her.

"Maker, Leliana!"

"Shh, love. No talking, remember?"

"I- Oh, Leli…"

Leliana grinned. She added a second finger rather rapidly, keeping her hand under the mage's hip to keep her backside angled correctly. The mage had the sheets bunched in her fists and her feet squirming where they were trapped underneath the bard. She bit back several cries, finally burying her face in the sheets to muffle herself.

"That's right, love. When you behave, you are rewarded." Leliana was compensated for her words by a particularly violent buck up into her hand, causing her to go much deeper than she had been. Solona cried out in answer, and Leliana began to work her in earnest. A third finger was added, and she leaned over further, trailing her free hand into that dark thatch of hair, seeking out that beautiful bundle of nerves she knew she would find right…

"Maker!"

There. It took less than a minute for Solona to climax, incoherent cries escaping her lips. Leliana's hand was coated in her lover's fluid, and she felt her own core pulse with need.

But she wasn't done. Oh no, not yet. She continued to work Solona long past when she would normally have stilled. As Solona began panting and groaning and moaning once more, incredulous cries escaping her, Leliana coaxed a fourth finger inside of her lover. Normally there just wasn't enough lubrication to try something like this, but with her hand coated in oil as it was, along with Solona's fluids from her release, well. Now was the time to try.

"I… Leli… I…"

"Did you have something to say, Solona?"

"Fuck…"

She chuckled, redoubling her efforts, working the mage like she did her lute. She pumped her fingers in and out, her other hand teasing that bundle of nerves. The sight of the mage writhing underneath her, her own fingers disappearing inside of her, the mage's fists clenched as tightly in the sheets as her core was around Leliana's fingers, made the bard almost cry out with her own need. And being in control of this, having the powerful mage under her – an arcane warrior, descended from the backbone of Andraste's Army – surrendering her control… it thrilled her all the way down to her core.

Finally, she relented, stroking Solona hard and fast. All it took was a few strokes for the mage to crest once more, her whole body going rigid as she called out Leliana's name. The bard's body coated the insides of her own thighs as she watched, feeling her lover climax around her hand, hearing incoherent cries fall from her lips.

It took a few minutes for Solona's breathing to return to normal. While she was still recovering, utterly boneless and unable to move, Leliana pulled out of her and quickly removed her own clothing. Climbing into bed next to her lover, she pushed against her. Solona immediately curled into her, giving her a sloppy kiss, murmuring something about taking the oil with them on the road, and burying her face in the bard's skin. She was always like this as she came down from climax, needing to have as much of their skin touching as possible – especially her face.

Her breathing calmed, and Leliana began to get excited, her heart pounding with the anticipation. She was so aroused that she probably only needed a minute of attention before she would experience her own crest. Her body pulsed, her core clenched around nothing. Need filled her. She was so close already.

But then she realized that Solona's breathing was a little too regular.

"Solona?"

No answer.

A gentle shake. "Solona?"

A sleepy mumble as the mage pulled her closer.

She was asleep. Asleep!

"Merde."

Leliana settled in, squeezing her thighs together, wishing she had her lover between them. Accepting that she would just have to have reciprocation tomorrow, she got as comfortable as she could and tried not to focus on the feel of Solona's skin against hers, which was distracting, so that she could fall asleep.

She awoke to deft fingers sliding over her skin.

"Solona!"

She opened her eyes to find the mage grinning above her, her hands now sliding over her more insistently.

"Good morning, darling."

"What- oh!" Leliana exclaimed, one her nipples having just been pinched. "What are you doing?"

"Well," she answered, tweaking one of Leliana's nipples again. "You were so giving last night, and I completely fell asleep on you. I thought perhaps I could return the favor." Upon finishing, she took Leliana's nipple into her mouth, sucking sharply, kneading it with her teeth.

Leliana groaned, arching her back to push her breast further into Solona's mouth, her hands tangling in her freshly cut hair and pulling her closer. Her body felt afire, her skin burning wherever Solona touched it. Clearly, her arousal had not dimmed with sleep.

Solona released her breast with a slight pop, kissing her way down her chest and stomach. Leliana tried to calm her breathing, but her body was overriding her, and she couldn't help but pant and whimper, squirming underneath her lover. Solona reached the apex between her legs, chuckling deep in her throat as she lowered her head.

A knock on the door interrupted her, Alistair's voice sounding through it. "Solona, I need to speak with you."

Leliana cursed. "Maker's breath, you have to be kidding me?!"

Solona looked over at the door with her eyes narrowed. "Can't it wait, like, five minutes?"

Leliana snorted. "If that," she breathed.

"Mmmm, I like the sound of that," Solona murmured, lowering her head once more.

"I'm sorry, but it really can't," Alistair replied loudly through the door. "Arl Eamon wants to speak with us. You should put on something nice." A pause. "I tried to get him to wait, but I couldn't."

Leliana's head hit the pillow. "Do you think he will mind if I gut him?"

Solona laughed. "If you stride out there how you are now, he might not. Nor would he see the dagger in your hand." She pulled herself up, kissing Leliana between the breasts, then moving up further to kiss her on the lips. "I promise I'll make it up to you after whatever this meeting is."

Leliana sighed, resigned. "I shall just have to wait. Go on, put on your blue shirt and your suede breeches from last night – those are probably the nicest things you have clean."

Solona kissed her once more before getting up off the bed, calling out, "I'll be there in five minutes, Alistair," as she wen. She headed over to her travel bag. "Is my vest clean enough, do you think?"

Leliana turned to her side, propping herself up on one elbow. "I think so, yes."

Solona looked up from her bag, stopping dead for a moment. "I can't believe I'm leaving you here like this. You're just exquisite."

Leliana smirked, knowing exactly what she was doing to her lover. She lay on her side, one hip jutting into the air, completely naked, the sunlight through the window just starting to reach her pale skin. "Neither can I," she replied, raising an eyebrow and stroking her hand over her hip. "I may just need to take care of myself while you're away…" Her hand crept down toward the red thatch of hair over her sex.

Solona was on her in an instant. "Please, please don't!" She kissed her roughly, wrapping her arms tightly around Leliana's waist. "I promise I'll make it worth the wait. As soon as we're through."

Leliana giggled. "Yes, yes! All right! Go, before you are late!"

She was released, and she watched as Solona pulled on her trousers, shirt, boots, and, lastly, the vest she hadn't worn since the Tower. Leliana felt a little shiver go down her spine at the sight, and she fervently wished she could take the mage and drag her back to bed. Instead, she got to her feet, kissing Solona tenderly before sending her out the door to meet with Alistair and Arl Eamon. Sighing once again, she turned to wash up in the basin before going to break her fast.

"I sincerely hope she meant it when she said she'd finish what she started…"

It was time for the midday meal when she saw Solona again. They met in the great dining hall, both wardens falling to their meals with gusto. A servant led in Leliana after a morning of wandering the castle. She'd spent some time sitting with Connor, watching Wynne train him in his arts. They weren't yet sure what they would do with him; he needed a teacher, but the Circle was so harsh, and with the new information they'd stumbled upon, both Solona and Wynne were hesitant to advise sending him there. But it was the likeliest place for him to be safe if Wynne or Solona couldn't teach him. His parents had decided to let Wynne teach and observe him while the group stayed at the castle, and abide by whatever advice she gave at the end.

"Bonjour," Leliana greeted, sliding onto the bench next to her lover. She slid one hand up her arm and neck, burying her fingers in the mage's hair, hoping to remind her of her promised afternoon activity. She got only a grunted acknowledgment in return. She removed her hand, eyebrows knit, trying not to feel hurt or rejected. This wasn't like Solona at all. "Is- is something wrong?"

Alistair answered for her. "We had the longest meeting in the world with Eamon. We figured out what to do with the Landsmeet, how long it might take to secure the help of the elves and the dwarves, and we talked about each bann and arl in Ferelden at some length."

"That does sound tedious," she conceded, looking over to the black storm cloud that was her lover. "It must have dragged on for hours."

"That's not the part that has her like that," Alistair countered. "No, at the end of all of it, Eamon asked for our input on what he should do with the prisoner."

Leliana's heart sank. Jowan. They hadn't discussed him much. Solona was angry, but at the same time, the mage understood his turning to blood magic to avoid losing his love, to avoid the mindless existence of the tranquil. She didn't know what should be done with him. Blood mages should be put to death, and yet most of them turned to blood magic out of desperation. Was there no room for rehabilitation in the world of magic? Even murderers could see the error of their ways, reform. It seemed unfair to Leliana that there was no leniency for mages.

"Did you make a decision?" she asked

Solona swallowed her food, turning her head to stare down at her plate. "He's to be put to death."

"Oh, Solona." Leliana reached for her, but she shrugged away.

"I just… I need to be alone for a while. Maybe I'll go talk to him. I'd rather he found out from me than a guard or something." She got up, kissing Leliana's cheek before leaving the hall. The kiss helped, made it clear that she was not unhappy with Leliana at all. Still, the bard couldn't help but be slightly disappointed.

"Well, now I know what it would take to make her leave a meal," Leliana muttered, looking down at the mage's mostly-full plate.

"I'll eat it for her," Alistair said with a wink, despite his concerned eyes, grabbing the plate and moving it next to his own.

Leliana sighed, putting her chin in her hands and her elbows on the table. "This is not how I pictured this afternoon going…"

Alistair cleared his throat. "Sorry for stealing her away like that. Eamon was going to send someone to fetch her. He's not accustomed to being made to wait for anything, and I felt like perhaps now is not the time to assert that she is not under his command. He's still abed, after all."

"I understand, Alistair," she assured him, finally beginning to pick at her own plate.

"I… was actually hoping to speak with you about it," he said, taking another bite of his meal.

"About what?"

"Well," Alistair started, looking away while he gathered his thoughts. "I suppose I should start with the Gauntlet. The only person I've talked to about this has been Morrigan, of all people. But… well, to get out of the flames, did you have to pass some kind of test or something?"

Leliana thought for a moment. "Yes, I suppose you could call it a test. I was… shown my vision, in a different form. I had a realization. Then I was allowed through."

"I had a realization, too." He shifted in his seat, adjusting his shirt. "I heard a voice, sort of, telling me that I was worthy, and then I was allowed through."

"What did you realize, if you don't mind me asking?"

He smiled a strained smile. "That in order to change things – the Circle, the Chantry – I had to take the throne if that's what Eamon wanted. And it is." He sighed. "It's just… it's the only way I can do anything. I've never been able to do anything, Leliana."

She smiled. "I understand. And I'm proud of you, Alistair. But… what did you need to speak about?"

"Well, Eamon is glad I'm open to the idea. Solona is… I don't think she knows what to think, which is about where I am, too. It's hard to picture me as king when I'm a wanted fugitive." He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "But Eamon… I don't think he realizes that he's not in charge of all of this."

She cocked her head to the side. "How do you mean?"

Alistair sighed. "He's ordering us around like we're his soldiers or something. I don't know. Solona will be the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. We talked about it yesterday, deciding that we would make decisions regarding Grey Warden business together, but that if we had to present a command structure, she would be at the top."

Leliana nodded. "Solona told me as much."

He smiled. "Good. As the Warden-Commander, or even just a warden, she is not under the jurisdiction of any ruler, though cooperating is definitely stressed. But the problem is, Eamon is having a… hard time grasping it, I think. Every time she says something decisive, he looks to me for confirmation. Every time he decides something, he looks to me for agreement, and then completely ignores the nod or shake of the head she gives him. He bowls her over as soon as she starts to speak, and just generally…"

Leliana's eyes narrowed. "Treats her like a woman?"

"Yes!" He sagged. "Solona is incredibly frustrated, though I don't think she realizes that it's because she is a woman that he overlooks her – I think she thinks it's because she's young, and a mage. It embarrasses me, but I don't know how to talk to him about it."

She grew thoughtful. "If you are to be king, Alistair, you will need to learn to speak with your advisors, who will undoubtedly be senior to you in age, to correct them and their behavior. Luckily, you do not have the same ideas about women in power as he does, and you have come to me. I know exactly how to get him to see the error of his ways."

"Oh?"

She smiled. "Indeed."

Two hours later, they were seated in Isolde's sunroom. An elven servant poured tea for them, offering biscuits before silently exiting the room. Leliana followed the woman with her eyes, wondering at how she never quite noticed how much like statues the elven servants were treated as compared with the human ones.

"The elves, they make excellent servants, non?"

Leliana's head whipped around to look at Lady Isolde. She was very beautiful, simply radiant now with both her husband and son alive and well. The bard smiled, not really sure what to say in response to that.

"The elf you have traveling with you… he makes a good servant for the wardens?"

Alistair choked on his tea. "Zevran? A servant?"

"I'm sorry, is he not?"

"No, my Lady," Leliana replied, placing a hand on Alistair's knee so he wouldn't say anything else. "Zevran helps us fight against the darkspawn. He is not a servant."

"Oh… that would explain why Wynne was so indignant when I asked him to clear the dishes from the lunch she shared with Connor…"

Leliana blinked. "Oh? How did he react?"

"He cleared the table! It is very confusing…"

"I am sure he simply did what was easiest. It is his way. Besides that, I'm sure it provided ample opportunity to speak with some of the servants."

Isolde knit her brows. "Why would he wish to do that, if he is not one himself?"

"Information, most likely. In his former occupation, information was the most valuable form of currency."

"You seem to know a great deal about this, Lady Leliana."

Leliana smiled. "In my former occupation as a bard, information was everything."

Alistair flinched. "You- you just told her, just like that?"

"Shhh, Alistair, it is all right," she said, placing her hand upon his shoulder to calm him. "I am at peace with it."

"It is all right, Alistair," Isolde said, turning a glare upon him. It had been apparent since their return that, even after saving Connor, Teagan, and Eamon, she still was not pleased with his presence. "I know enough of Orlesian politics to know that the bards are often used cruelly. If he was anything like that, then I can understand his willingness to simply… go with the flow, I believe Fereldens say. And you as well, Lady Leliana."

Leliana squeezed Alistair's shoulder to keep him silent. "Surely such a shrewd woman would wish to help us with a little problem, then?"

"Une problemme? What is wrong?"

"The arl seems to have somewhat… unenlightened views about how to treat Alistair's fellow warden," she explained, again squeezing the man's shoulder to keep him quiet.

Isolde picked up on Leliana's meaning instantly, her eyes narrowing. "I see. He has had problems with this in the past. He has learned not to push me around. Perhaps he needs reminding about other women…"

"It would be wonderful if we could find a way for him to see that it is Solona who is the one in charge of the Grey Wardens."

"It is not Alistair?" Isolde asked, eyes wide in surprise. "I thought he was senior?"

Alistair shook his head. "No, Lady Isolde. Solona and I confer and come to agreements, but ultimately it is she who leads us. When we are able to rebuild our Order, it will be her who is called Warden-Commander."

Isolde's eyes softened a little as he spoke. "You… are a good man, Alistair. I have let my own jealousy cloud my eyes, I think. You will make a good king, to realize that the women in your country are just as clever and capable as the men."

Leliana smiled. She had been hoping to clear that up, too. She couldn't help but be proud of her ability to orchestrate Isolde's realization. "So you will speak with the arl?"

Isolde sat up a little straighter. "Indeed. I will remind him who saved his son, who walked through the Flames to get to Andraste's Ashes for him. It was not only Alistair." She looked from Alistair to Leliana. "It was two mages, three women, an elf… He is not the only one who has had some assumptions challenged." She smiled. "I assure you: by this time tomorrow, he will understand exactly who is in charge when it comes to this Blight."

"Thank you, my Lady," Leliana said, taking a sip of her tea and allowing the conversation to switch to more mundane, frivolous things. There was going to be a fete the next day, after all.

Solona woke up to lips on her neck, a hand on her breast.

She smiled. "Good morning, love."

The lips pressed to her throat curved into a smile. "Bonjour, mon amour," Leliana replied, tweaking a nipple before moving her hand lower.

"I suppose it's time I finally repay you for your kindness?"

"Mmmmm, yes please," the bard murmured. She slid atop the mage, her kiss long and languid. Her hands explored Solona with abandon, stoking the coals of the mage's desire into a raging inferno within minutes.

Someone banged on the door.

"Incroyable!"

"Solona! Leliana! I need you!"

"Dammit, Alistair," Solona yelled back. "What in hell do you need now?!"

A pause. "I'm going to be the next king, there is a party tonight, and I don't know how to dance."

"Merde," Leliana muttered before pushing herself up.

"What? You're getting up? Surely he can wait ten minutes?"

Leliana fixed her with a sardonic look. "I want you for much, much longer than that, my love. We can… return to our previous activities later this morning, all right?"

Five minutes later, they were dressed and opening the door.

Solona began speaking immediately. "What do you mean you don't know how to dance? Didn't you grow up here?"

"Yes, as a stable boy," Alistair said, frustration clear on his face. "You don't teach stable boys how to dance, even if they're the king's bastard son."

"It is all right, Solona. We will simply teach him some of the more simple moves," Leliana said, a hand on Solona's arm.

"But the party is tonight! He couldn't have said something sooner? And… we had plans for this morning…"

Alistair turned bright red. "Ah! I'm sorry for interrupting, okay?! Please stop talking about bed sport and help me!"

Leliana's grip on her arm tightened. "There is time later, Solona, as I said. Look at him." She smirked. "He's so pathetic."

Solona snorted a laugh before dropping her head. "I know, I just… I abandoned you last night…" She had spent the afternoon speaking with Jowan. They had come to a place of peace, even if she was still angry with him. He had made it clear that none of it was her fault, and asked her that, should she ever see Lilley again, that she let her know he loved her. The warden had sworn it, silently swearing to herself to do her best to find the woman. She deserved to know his fate, even if she, too, was angry.

Leliana had been asleep when Solona had come to bed, however, making it so she still was unable to reciprocate from the evening before. Add that with this morning's and the previous morning's aborted attempts, and Leliana had to be so desperate that she was probably ready to rub herself to release on Solona's thigh. "We will have time this afternoon, Solona. You can repay your debts then, yes?"

Solona sighed. "Very well."

What followed was four tortuous hours of finding out just how uncoordinated Alistair's feet were without a sword and shield in his hands. In the stables. With the beast who usually tried to throw her from its saddle. She swore it laughed at her the entire time, tossing its head and snorting.

At one point, Alistair asked her how she knew how to dance.

"We teach ourselves many things in the Tower," she said, cursing when he stepped on her foot again.

"Sorry!"

"I think it is time for a different tactic," Leliana said then, removing Solona from his death-grip. The bard squared off with him as though they were sparring, his feet instantly taking on the appropriate stance. "Both of you: face me."

"But you'll just put us in the dust, like usual," Alistair said, glancing over at Solona. The mage just shrugged and dropped into a combat stance, as well.

"Just do it and trust me," Leliana said. "And do not attack." Solona smirked. Maker, she wished she could drag that woman off to bed rather than be here, with the smell of horse dung and the heat of the stables. She'd given up on that long ago, however, at this point simply hoping that her clothing wouldn't be too dirty or smelly before the fete tonight.

Leliana circled around them, and immediately Solona could see what she was doing. Her feet had a rhythm, her hips swaying to the inaudible beat, as well. She started to hum a melody as soon as Alistair's feet joined hers, and within a minute or two, Solona placed herself in his arms, continuing the rhythm.

He laughed. They were suddenly dancing. "That's it?! Why did I think it was so hard?"

Leliana smiled, no longer moving, simply clapping the rhythm for them. "Because you built it up in your head. But as you can see, there is very little difference between this and sparring. Just – don't try to spar with any of the ladies with whom you might dance tonight, yes?"

"I don't know," Solona said, raising her eyebrow at him. "That would certainly be entertaining."

She jumped away when he released her, clearly intending to swat her on the arm. Laughing, she swept Leliana up and danced her around the stables, leading her in a rhythm that was much faster than the one they'd been dancing to previously. The bard laughed, following Solona easily, Alistair joining their laughter as he watched.

"You lead and follow so well, my love!" Leliana exclaimed, laughing again as Solona continued to lead her around the stable. She loved hearing those words fall from Leliana's lips. They made her swell to think how lucky she was.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, and I find the three of you locked up in the heat with the horses." Solona stopped, looking to the entrance to see Morrigan frowning from across the doorway. "I have been sent to find you," the witch explained.

"You were sent to find us?" Alistair was dubious.

"It was not my first choice. But when Wynne and Zevran could not find you, they asked me to help. As my other option was to watch over the boy, who could not be left alone, I agreed instead to come find you myself."

"Well," Solona said, releasing Leliana and going to stand in front of the witch. "Here we are. What is needed of us, and who needs it?"

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. "I believe it is time to get ready for this ridiculous event that is to occur tonight."

Solona took in her reflection. There had been a snafu when she first came to get ready – the servants had attempted to get her into a dress. She hadn't worn a true dress since she was five, some party or wedding or something she'd attended in Lothering with her parents, before she'd been sent to the Circle. She wasn't about to wear one tonight, or ever again, for that matter.

She had sent them away, bathed, and was just despairing of having something to wear that was anywhere near as nice as the dress when Alistair had appeared at her door, looking quite handsome and kingly. He had led her to his room and proceeded to have the servants that had been dressing him pick out something for her. Now she stood in front of his mirror, giving the final approval to the black hose, blood-red shirt, and brown suede vest with matching boots they had selected for her.

Alistair nearly had a heart attack when the servants offered to cover the tattoo on her face for her. Solona laughed at him, explaining to them that she would not be covering the tattoo, that it was a mark of her status. It was not technically a lie – the tattoo indeed marked her status as apostate – but she did not clarify, and they did not ask her to.

As they left, she addressed the future king. "I did not realize quite how elves were treated outside of the Circle."

"It's atrocious, really," he said, his eyebrows knit. "I hope it's something I can start to change, when I'm king." He looked to her as if he'd only just taken in what she'd said. "Wait, 'outside of the Circle'? How are elves treated inside it?"

Solona shrugged. "Shitty. But no different from how the human mages are treated. We do all our own work; we have no servants. Elves in the Circle are mages. Those who come later in life tend to be a bit more bitter toward humans, but it clears up pretty quickly when it's made clear they're not to be servants. I've had more than one person explain to me how it is outside the Circle, but I'd never seen it before. No wonder Wynne was so incredulous on Zevran's behalf yesterday – she's never seen it either, and, personally, if someone treated Leliana like that, I would have words to say."

Alistair snorted a laugh. "I bet you would. Now, come on, handsome Lady," he said, offering her his arm and smiling cheekily at her. "We have a party to greet, as Grey Wardens, and commanders in our own right."

"So," Solona said as they headed down, her arm in his. "What did the more wild members of our party decide to do?"

Alistair grinned. "Well, Morrigan changed into a raven, leaving her clothing in the hallway and flying out the window. Gave the servants quite a fright. But I think Connor is now hers forever."

"She claims to not like frivolity, but she sure does love making a spectacle of herself!" Solona exclaimed, laughing at the image painted for her.

"Agreed. Sten took Max to his room when the kennel master started complaining. Apparently, your mabari has an incredibly high sex drive, and was quite capable of climbing his way into the kennel where all the female hunting dogs are kept. The arl is going to have quite a few litters of half-mabari war dogs."

Solona winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to having to keep an eye on him. He operates on his own when we're out. He's less of a dog and more a companion who can't talk."

"Or won't," Alistair said with a nod, citing the oft-quoted wisdom that mabari were smart enough to know to keep quiet. "I know what you mean. I think we all forgot about him once we got back."

"Do you think we'll have a problem with him and the horses?" Solona couldn't help but be a little hopeful. If he did have a problem with them, she would choose him over the horses with no qualms whatsoever.

Alistair shook his head, however, crushing her hopes. "His old master was a warrior in the army. He would have been trained around horses from the time he was a pup."

Damn. Their time to chat was over, however, as they could see the arl and arlessa up ahead waiting for them to arrive at the entrance to the fete.

The "greeting" was actually Solona and Alistair being introduced to every guest that came through the door. It tried her patience, as she could not even stand with Leliana, but Alistair did at least have funny anecdotes to share about some of the guests. No one truly important was in attendance, but every minor noble from the areas surrounding Redcliffe was there. It was hoped that it would be enough to begin to cast doubt on Queen Anora's regent – Loghain.

Some of the more eligible daughters were introduced to Alistair, all of them giving him a healthy view of their cleavage as they curtsied. Solona teased him, he turned bright red, and suddenly the mage felt a little better for having to stand there with him. At least she could tease him mercilessly. That never grew old.

Finally, it was over, and Alistair led her in a dance. It was a little strange to be so close to him, being led around while wearing clothes usually reserved for men, and, being the kind of person she was, she commented on it. He agreed, but also made it clear that he was most comfortable with her and Leliana, preferring their company over anyone else's.

"You're like a brother – or a sister? – to me," he said. "Yes, it's a little peculiar to be dancing with you, but dear Maker it's better than those children whose parents clearly want me to marry them."

"Yes, that is a little disturbing," Solona agreed as the dance ended. They both bowed to each other, snickering at Solona's utter dismissal of femininity for the evening. "All right, let me go find Leli? I'll dance with her, then let you have a turn."

"The implications of that last statement are a little disturbing," he called after her, to which she replied with a wink that had him both bright red and laughing as she hurried away.

Unfortunately, just as she spotted Leliana's red hair, just hoping to see what clothes she had been provided, she was intercepted by the Lady Isolde.

"Warden! May I presume to ask this dance?"

Solona smiled. "Of course, Lady Isolde. Shall I lead or follow?"

The woman giggled. "I would prefer to follow."

She took the woman in her arms, making an apologetic face toward Leliana, who had just spotted her, and began moving the arlessa through the dance floor. "I wanted to let you know, Lady Solona, that you should no longer have any trouble with my husband."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Leliana and Alistair came to me to let me know that he was dismissing you because you are a woman. I have… handled him."

She turned the woman under her arm, pulling her back in and moving around once more. "I had no idea that was the reason. I thought perhaps it was because I am a mage…"

The arlessa shook her head. "No, it is because I unfortunately married a rather stubborn, old-fashioned man who forgets that women are just as capable as men. I am sorry that he treated you so."

Solona shrugged as best she could while continuing to lead Lady Isolde in their dance. "It is quite all right, my Lady. Truth be told, I am somewhat out of my element. The hierarchy within the Circle is quite different – based on merit and age, rather than sex or status at birth."

"Well, you have good friends to look out for you. I am glad to see Alistair with someone who is so clever and cunning. She will serve him well as king. And they make such an adorable couple. It is almost too bad they cannot marry if he takes the throne."

Solona stopped dead in her dance for a moment. "Alistair and… Leliana? I'm sorry?"

"Are they not together?"

Solona began to move again, shaking her head. "No, my Lady. They are not. Leliana is…" She felt her cheeks heat. How did she claim Leliana without actually claiming her like some object? "I am with her. We are… an item."

"Oh…" Solona turned Isolde once more, pulling her in.

"What, uh, gave you the impression they were together?"

"The lady's room has been empty. Of all your companions, Alistair seemed the most likely to me to be the one whose bed she shared. And when they came to me about you together… I suppose I simply assumed. I apologize I took their friendship for something more."

Solona grinned. "No apology necessary, my Lady. I think we'll all get a laugh out of it, truth be told."

They finished their dance amicably, and when the music ended, Solona escorted Isolde off the floor like a proper gentleman. She made a passable bow, and when she straightened, Leliana was next to her. The bard looked absolutely stunning in a deep blue, satin dress, with matching shoes much like the ones she had described to Solona that one night, weeks and weeks ago. "If you do not mind, my Lady, I would steal the warden away for myself."

"Yes, of course, Lady Leliana. I should check on my husband…" And she wandered off, carrying herself with a grace that Solona was sure she herself would not be able to pull off in that dress.

Leliana's hand found hers. "Dance with me, my warden?"

Solona smiled, struck momentarily speechless, looking down into those deep blue eyes. The look on Leliana's face… She nodded, leading her out onto the dance floor.

Their dance was… almost scandalous. Leliana kept pressing very close, her hand sometimes wandering to very suggestive places. Solona only ever saw her in this mood when they were both naked in their tent. She liked it, though it was disconcerting in this context.

The dance over, Leliana took her hand and immediately began leading her away. Solona followed, enjoying the view of the bard's retreating form. When they left the party altogether, however, entering the castle from the courtyard, the warden spoke up. "Leli? Um, where are we going?"

Zevran rolled the dice again. He had decided that it would be easier for everyone if an elf didn't attend the ball as a guest. He had made his way to town instead, not even having to talk himself into this game of chance. The townspeople remembered him, and the free drinks had come in a steady stream all night.

The door to the tavern opened, causing everyone to look up. Zevran took advantage of their lost attention, spying the loosely-held cards of his fellows. He cursed to himself when he saw that his neighbor had a better hand than he did. But at least that meant that he could fold, not roll the dice again, and not lose any more coin to the pot. Or perhaps he could bluff the man into folding himself…

He finally looked up to see who had come into the inn. His heart skipped; it saw Wynne standing by the door, absolutely radiant in a dress of green silk, looking almost naked without her ever-present staff and rucksack full of herbs and other supplies. She was standing just inside the door, looking around for something. His heart sped back up, slamming hard into his chest, when he realized that is was he that she searched for.

"I fold," he said without preamble, picking up his mug of ale and downing the rest of it before leaving the table, ignoring the disappointed calls he got from his fellow card-players.

"Wynne." He spoke her name as he approached, coming to stand before her, unable to keep a smile off his face. "You look absolutely stunning. Why are you not at the party?"

She smiled, taking his hands. "I stayed for a little while. But there was some very important company I was missing. Why did you not come, Zevran? I had to ask a servant where you had gone."

He shrugged. "I figured it would be best if we did not have every single noble asking me for a drink all night," he answered, wondering inwardly at how he had been able to escape this treatment in Antiva. The arm of the Crows was long, indeed, if it had spared him this treatment.

Wynne narrowed her eyes. "All the more reason to stay, make them see that you are not just one step above a slave."

"Please, Wynne. I am at peace with it. I have no desire to spend my time that way anymore." He sighed. "In truth, parties remind me of my time as a Crow, and that is not what I want to be reminded of while I am at your side."

Her features softened, and she reached out a hand to cup his cheek. "I am sorry. I hadn't even thought of that."

He took her hand, suddenly aware of how quiet the common room had become. He was new to this, but he knew he did not want this side of himself, being vulnerable for a woman, tainted by the hollering men tended to do when in a group. "Come, let us find somewhere more private."

"Room in the back's available," the innkeeper told him quietly as he passed. "Free of charge. I remember what you and the wardens did when the town was bein' attacked."

Zevran nodded his thanks. He winced when someone whistled, a lewd comment following them as they made their way to the back of the hallway.

"I apologize," he said as he opened the door. "I forget how unseemly men can be when they are all together like that. Hardly appropriate for a lady of your caliber."

He turned around to shut the door, but found it taken from his hands, the mage shutting it behind her, the most intense look he had ever seen upon her face. He opened his mouth to say something, but she placed a finger over his lips, continuing to stare into his eyes. He simply looked back, his heart suddenly racing, his stomach jumping in a way he had never experienced before.

She lowered her hand from his lips, placing it on his chest. She fingered the material of his homespun tunic, her eyes following her fingers. He still couldn't read the look on her face. Her free hand came up, paralleling the other already on his chest, now feeling the muscles beneath his shirt, travelling slowly from his shoulders to his collarbone, then down to his chest. He was tempted to take her into his arms, kiss her, but something told him to stay still and let her explore a little.

Truth be told, he was incredibly nervous to be alone with her like this. He both hoped that she would come to his bed this night, and yet also hoped she merely wished to talk more. He was getting good at it; she knew most of the good things about him, and even some of the bad things.

He knew how to make love to a woman, knew how to make her feel good, knew how to be a strong man who could provide what she needed. But he did not know how to love, or at least not how to show it. Looking upon her body filled him with lust, and yet it was different; her body made him want to speak of love, and life, and to simply hold her against him, feeling her skin touch as much of him as he could manage. He had simply never done this with someone with whom he was being honest about how he felt, and he found it quite terrifying.

After a minute or so of setting his body ablaze with her touch, Wynne spoke. "It has been… a long time." She looked up into his eyes once more, inching a little closer. He was stunned by how clear the blue in her eyes was.

"Since…?"

"Since I was with someone who was more than a convenient friend."

He smiled a self-deprecating smile. "That is also true for myself, Wynne."

She nodded, conceding that to him. "I fear I do not know how to start," she confessed, continuing to finger the material of his tunic, setting his skin ablaze with the heat of her hands, her crystal-blue eyes staring into his.

This was the moment. Did they do this now? Or did he act the coward, back out and sit and talk the rest of the night, taking care of his lust on his own at a later time?

Making his decision, he placed a hand on hers, stilling it, stepping closer and placing his other hand on her waist. "It usually starts with a kiss," he whispered. "Un pequeño beso."

"That's it, is it?" she said, a slight smirk touching her lips.

Zevran nodded, drawing her closer. "It does not have to be more complicated than that, I think." He paused, cocking his head to the side as he looked into her eyes. "I think it can be this simple: do you want this?"

Wynne was very close now. He could feel her breath on his lips. She nodded. "Yes. I want this. I want… you."

He smiled. "Te quiero, también. Me gustas tu, Wynne." He closed the distance between them, covering her lips with his own and pulling her flush against him, feeling her heartbeat thudding against him in a delicious counter-beat to his own. She gasped a little, a small whimper escaping her, her body tensing for the briefest moment before relaxing, melting to fit his shape. He groaned a little to feel her breasts press against him, even through all that fabric.

He didn't know how to handle her. He wanted to cherish her, not manhandle her. But what if she liked that? Damn this uncertainty! Zevran Arainai was not a man who was unsure of what women wanted!

Fingers wended into his hair, undoing the leather thong holding it in place. He smiled into their kiss, doing the same for her – grateful for the direction, in fact – running his fingers through her hair as he ventured his tongue out to taste her mouth. It was a taste he had become addicted to with their first kiss, a taste he always wanted more of. They had had some passionate moments in the woods, but he never let his restraint fall, always fearful of somehow disappointing Wynne with to much enthusiasm. He did not wish to be seen as the lustful man who did not care for more than that. Not any longer. Not by Wynne.

But now his heart swelled with an emotion he could not yet name. He took this woman into his arms, leading her to the bed in the corner, expert fingers finding the laces in the front of her dress and deftly loosening them. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on tightly, pressing her body to his in a desperate embrace. It was as though she could not get close enough.

He could fix that, however. He deposited her on the edge of the bed, not hesitating in pulling his shirt up over his head. He then sat next to her, enjoying the feel of her fingers on his skin as she explored his hairless chest. He leaned over, sampling the skin of her neck, enjoying the sounds she made, sounds he never thought he would hear coming from her. Her skin was warm, soft, and held a hint of the same taste he found on her tongue. It was simply intoxicating.

His nervousness was gone, replaced by a deep excitement.

His hands strayed upward again, and he began to unlace her bodice in earnest. He stopped abruptly, the uncertainty returning briefly when he felt her hands leave his skin, felt them join his on her dress. Pulling back a little, he looked down to find she was helping. A few tugs, and the front of her dress was open, displaying an absolutely perfect set of breasts: pale-skinned, only slightly wrinkled with her years, full and heavy with their weight, and yet with nipples still perky enough to look right back at him.

"Oh, Wynne," he murmured, looking into her eyes for permission.

She smirked, her hands on his arms now. "Are they everything you have been dreaming of?"

His eyes flashed. He wrapped his arms around her waist, turning her and pressing her onto her back. "There is only one way to find out," he answered her, before finally, finally, diving into those marvelous bosoms.