"Technically, Nathaniel laughed, "I don't need to go anywhere to get those darkspawn, Solona."
His unexpectedly casual tone stopped her in her tracks. Solona glanced over her shoulder to see Nathaniel poised against the balcony rail with his bow drawn, an arrow nocked. Holding his shoulders in the coiled way he did when he was aiming, his silhouette seemed to merge more with the darkness for each second he stood motionless. Curious, Solona abandoned her departure and turned to rejoin his side. The darkspawn were far enough out that their presence hadn't yet entered the range of sensation, so Nathaniel could only fire by sight. But there was so little to see, the landscape ahead a changing miasma of black on black in the absence of lightning.
Scanning the hillside, Solona stilled herself, part of her focused on the search for identifying movements in the landscape, part of her tuning deeply into Nathaniel. Careful not to get so close as to touch him and disturb his aim, the intensely focused listening imparted a zen-like effect. All sound seemed to disappear except for the even, intimate rhythm of his breathing.
And then there was light; a flickering bolt from the stormclouds bathed the hills in brilliance, revealing mounds of rising green against a black sky. Nathaniel's breath hitched and held, causing Solona to tense with anticipation. The moment lasted only a fraction of a second before darkness uneventfully fell again.
Solona let out the breath she'd been holding, figuring he'd need a more sustained flash of light in order to hit a target at such a distance. A sympathetic look in his direction revealed him standing loosely, his bow lowered to his side. The next flash uncovered increased movement on the hill, drawing Solona's eye just in time to register a single distant figure splayed upon the ground, and five other shadows scrambling for cover.
Solona laughed, genuinely impressed. She'd not heard the moment he fired, nor seen the movement in the corner of her eye. Her next glance at Nathaniel had him in position again with a second arrow. Her eyes searched the darkness, dilated, waiting for the next brief illumination of the hill. A tingle, a whisper of sensation right on the periphery of her awareness put the darkspawn into place before her, their movement growing clearer with each lumbering advance toward the Keep. Senses cast wide, Solona gripped the iron railing hard as she struggled to discern the details of the darkspawn's rank and power.
Air knocked from her lungs, Solona flew through space, her body whirled off its feet by a strong arm . A furious thunk resounded behind her, an arrow returned from the hillside beyond and embedded deep into the wood frame of the door, carrying with it a whiff of darkspawn death. Magic thrummed in her veins, the scent of darkspawn decay triggering a welcome rush of adrenaline. An attempt to step sideways found Nathaniel's arm still protectively wrapped around her waist, his body positioned startlingly close. Yanked from her place beside the rail, she now rested against the stone wall beside the door. Only inches away, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the familiar warmth of his distinctive scent. A shifting on her feet brushed her thigh against his, igniting a heat that pooled low in her belly. Solona suddenly felt breathless.
Another sharp ping sang out closeby, followed by a crack of glass as a second arrow struck the door.
"Okay," Nathaniel breathed. "We can go now."
The small rooms of the Keep disappeared in a blur behind them. Descending the stairs with adrenaline-fueled speed, they met the still, cold air of a mostly evacuated courtyard. There was little point in keeping stalls populated when the cold had driven most of the residents indoors, many of them now taking shelter within the Keep's small tavern. With windows blazing warmly, the wooden add-on to the courtyard reverberated with the raucous sounds of soldiers releasing tensions after a long day's shift. Solona also detected the presence of three other Wardens inside, none of their movements indicating a reaction to her and Nathaniel's rush through the courtyard. Solona shook her head, mostly unsurprised but not inclined to blame them. It was easy to let one's guard down while safely sheltered by the Keep's walls.
Exiting the small door to the right of the main gate, Nathaniel and Solona stole out into the unprotected roads. Lightning came closer, snapping loose tendrils of white that skittered across the horizon. Thunder boomed over the small bay inlet to the east of the Keep. Lacking a coat, Solona quickened her steps, hoping the exertion would help her body to burn away the cold. Nathaniel kept close, the only evidence of his presence the internal buzzing of their tainted blood. Together they ran the length of the outer wall until the hillside opened up and the roaring of a river split the land in two. The pathway beneath their feet grew rocky, transforming into a stone bridge crossing the river, and then back into a dirt path again. To the right, hills rose up in steeply graded slopes, while to the left the bay inlet flickered. Slowly the fuzzy sensation of darkspawn grew clearer, their numbers still registering as five bodies, probably just another scouting troop.
Murmuring a few low spells under her breath, Solona's palms grew hot, thrumming with the fast accumulation of power. The veil whispered around her body like an invisible web of gauze, pulling tight and thin where it reacted to her efforts to shape Fade energy. Her well of mana sat full and ready; Solona practically skipped ahead, impatient to immerse herself in the focus of a fight. The sensation of Nathaniel fell back and diverted up the hillside. A departure from Alistair and Oghren's tactic of running ahead and directly into the fray, Solona felt unleashed in the knowledge that she didn't have to aim her destruction strategically, nor concern herself with the risks of casting toward a comrade.
Up the hill to her right and heading toward Nathaniel traveled a quickly moving darkspawn. Blinking at the darkness, Solona whispered the words for a crushing prison, throwing it blindly toward the sensation of the spawn's movement. A tense moment of waiting ended with the distant shimmer of purple as the spell landed on its target, trapping the spawn into place for Nathaniel. Up ahead Solona counted four others, one separated out and stationary - likely the archer who'd fired up at the balcony — with one of the group radiating a substantially greater level of power. Toward the closest of the three, Solona threw an arcane bolt, watching as the fast-traveling orb carved a path of light toward the darkspawn, mapping out rocks and divots, a cluster of bushes and the trunks of scattered trees. It landed weakly upon the closest spawn body, much of its power spent covering the distance.
Sprinting ahead, Solona quickly brought herself within optimum range. One by one the darkspawn froze into place, leaving a gap of silence and confusion in their stillness. Mind blissfully empty, Solona gave herself over to the magic, opening her channels to pour power into a blizzard spell. The words of the spell flowed effortlessly over her tongue, whispered in mindless susurrations that came as automatically as breathing. Vibrations rose from her feet, reverberating up her legs and building within her solar plexus. The power contained between her palms brightened to a blinding intensity, doubling and growing with each repetition of the chant. Finally Solona released the spell, sending it forth with a percussive burst. She opened up the channel to the Fade, giving her body over as a conduit for a raging of magic. Her breaths turned to clouds of smoke while wind whipped her hair into her eyes. A quick check on Nathaniel placed him far enough out of the storm's range, while the motionless darkspawn before her remained stubbornly in place.
Curious, Solona pressed forward into her conjured blizzard. With eyes squeezed closed, she stepped hurriedly through the flurry of ice, untouchable to the snowflakes and gale force winds she'd created. Vision obscured by both darkness and her storm, she focused on the tainted sense of the darkspawn, their presence wiggling like little worms inside her brain. She called up a fireball as she closed the distance between herself and the darkspawn, the fire's light confirming the precise work of her fighting partner. Arrows protruded from the top of each blackened boot, pinning the darkspawn into place, leaving their arms flailing freely and teeth gnashing in frustration. But the darkspawn's movements were eerily slowed, the power of the blizzard crystallizing the moisture inside their flesh while snowy gales obscured their vision.
A flick of her wrist delivered a bolt of chain lightning, blitzing from body to body, light bouncing off the swirling snow to imbue the remnants of the blizzard with an otherworldly glow. The explosion that followed as each darkspawn burst into a cloud of particulates impacted Solona with the force of a shove. Scrambling to find her balance, Solona's feet dug hold of the rocky ground just in time to let her turn away from the flying shrapnel. A spray of shattered body parts pummeled at her back before ricocheting off into the windy bluster. The dying wisps of the blizzard spell melted into the very real storm that churned overhead; the caress of blowing snow giving way to hard, fat drops of rain.
Finally the icy dust cleared the air, allowing for a steadying breath. Another fight over too soon, leaving the adrenaline to drizzle out of her system as she stood watching the thin layer of snowfall melt under the growing pelts of rain. Nathaniel's presence resolved itself behind her, coming closer until the pressure of his touch found her arm. He tugged gently.
"Solona, quickly!"
Turning back toward the pathway, she matched Nathaniel's hurried steps, relying on her Warden sense to communicate his position. Cold water dripped down her scalp and neck, pooling at the collar of her robe before seeping beneath, inciting a powerful shudder down her body. All at once the sky broke open, dumping a deluge of rain that quickly covered the ground, sending splashes of cold up her boots with each step. Flickering light revealed an impenetrable shroud of falling water, blocking out any navigable view of the landscape. Cracks of thunder detonated frighteningly close overhead; Solona jolted with an instinctive attempt to dodge the oppressive sound. Nathaniel's hand closed around her arm again, urging her to continue on.
Rain pierced like needles on her face, seeming to fly straight into her eyes from all directions. She worked her legs in long strides, charging forward despite the low visibility. The pull of Nathaniel's grip seemed to have a purposeful direction, so Solona surrendered to his lead, head lowered to avoid the storm's onslaught. The roar of rain grew louder in her ears. A sharp tug in a new direction plunged them into deep shadow and closed out the night's sky, the sudden respite from the rain registering as a welcome shock.
Panting and disoriented, Solona blinked at the darkness to recover her bearings. Feet away the rain continued to fall in sheets, but nearby rushed the river they'd crossed on their way out, with a black, stone arch curving overhead. Standing under protection of the bridge, there was little space separating the supporting wall and the edge of the river, but it was there Nathaniel had pulled her to shelter. She glanced at his shadow to see him hovering close, his hand still clutching her elbow.
With a sigh she wiped the water from her face and pulled tangles of drenched hair off her cheek.
"Damn, that rain came up fast," Nathaniel breathed. Solona shrugged while stifling a spasm of shivers. Mind still blissfully blank in the aftermath of so much stimulus, her skin stung with cold. Nathaniel released her arm and wiped his face, wringing water from his hair. Stepping gently back toward the edge of the bridge, Solona peered up at the sky in the direction the storm had come. Through the dense fall of rain, distant flickers of light illuminated clouds blocking out the sky over the entire horizon. The storm was massive, its end nowhere in sight.
Solona sighed. "We should have just kept going back to the Keep, if we're going to have to run through this anyway," she told him as she turned to retreat deeper under the bridge. "Get it over with."
"Could you see where we were going? I couldn't."
Solona watched her feet with each step, careful of the rocks that peppered the ground along the water's edge. To fall into such fast moving rapids would be to disappear, the speed and depth making recovery impossible. Likely, an unfortunate action would result in being swept entirely out to sea.
Calling up a ball of fire for light, Solona swept her eyes around their little hideout, surprised at the lack of space that had been concealed by the darkness. Nathaniel flinched away from the sudden burst of flame.
"Some warning would be nice," he gasped, taking a quick step away. The fireball died fast in the moist air, but Solona saw exactly what she needed to in the brief moment of light. The stone wall of the bridge was closer than she'd assumed, with streams of rain pouring off the overhead ledge and cutting small rivers into the dirt at their feet. What narrow bank existed was pockmarked and rocky, with pools of water collecting with alarming quickness.
"Will this river rise?" Solona rubbed at her upper arms, trying to ward off the deepening chill. Drenched fabric pulled heavily on her arms, pressing its cold embrace around her body. Her robe must have absorbed several pounds of water.
"Not as long as there are no blockages downstream," he answered. "Add checking that to the list of things to take care of before winter."
"And if there are blockages?"
"Then we'll be swimming back to the Keep," he answered.
"Or just, you know, drowning," Solona sighed. Strangely such an ending held little appeal in the moment. Nerves clenched in her chest as her eyes flicked over to Nathaniel. Even in the darkness his shadow remained regal. Still and tall, the draw she'd felt toward him on the balcony continued to tug on her; an accompanying pang of guilt vibrated below the pull. Squeezing her eyes closed, she turned away. Was there any point in denying these sparks of desire?
Yes, there was. She'd already loved once — no, she still loved another. It had ended in death and pain. It would do so again, but this time the death would be hers. The best ending, the ending which guaranteed so further trauma, was to fulfill her promise of eternity with Alistair.
And yet, her awareness of him was unignorable. Through the roar of rain she detected his breathing, his every little movement. Darkness made the memories of their other time together more vibrant, scenes playing with vivid intensity over the tapestry of black. A flash of muscled, shirtless torso. Of eyes like blocks of ice that somehow burned white-hot.
And that voice, the way her name rolled out of him like a lover's caress. "Solona."
Her eyes searched the corner of her vision, seeking to chart his silent movements. An inhalation turned into a desperate gasp for air, her body suddenly seeming to be starving for oxygen. The roaring silence was cut by the inadvertent chattering of her teeth.
Nathaniel's shadow turned toward her.
"May I give you my coat, Solona?" he asked gently. The rush of rain almost swallowed his words. Solona's body drifted closer to him, a habitual response to wanting to hear him better. His forearm brushed against hers. Heartbeat banging forcefully against her ribs, a shudder radiated out from their point of contact.
His coat. Warm and smelling of him, it was a powerful offering she had no will to refuse. Though it would only be soiled by resting upon her soaked clothing. Though it had probably kept him warm and dry during the run, it was already too late for her.
"Let's just get back to the Keep," Solona countered. She turned to face the hillside, her mind already forging ahead, scrambling back up the hill toward the path. Over the bridge, follow the road, left at the fork and then continue on until we hit the main gate. It could be done if they kept their eyes at their feet and trusted the pathway.
Ready to surge forward, her first step toward the open air landed not on solid ground, but on something soft. A flutter of panic gripped her throat as her foot slipped and kept slipping. An attempt to recover her balance was met with complete disorientation; the surrounding blackness providing no hold for either eyes or mind to right itself. Space careened darkly around her, the lurch of motion flipping her stomach.
She fell back hard against something solid and the tipping of the world stopped. Leather coat, firm arm tight around her waist. Of course it was no surprise Nathaniel had caught her.
"You seem to like doing that," she uttered without thinking. The racing of her heart continued unabated. Though no longer in danger of falling or slipping into the river, the body against hers registered as a different kind of threat.
"I suppose I do," he said simply.
A long beat of silence stretched on. Caught during the act of turning away, her back now rested firmly against his chest, his arm circling under hers, palm flat against her belly. Behind her left ear the soft whisper of his breath. I suppose I do. Her head rolled back, coming to rest on his shoulder. The warmth of his neck radiating onto her cheek plunged her into almost immediate relaxation.
Solona sighed tiredly. The constant war of thoughts, fighting impulses and desires was exhausting. And what had it ever gained her? Nothing. But the nothingness was there regardless. The nothingness usually smothered the desire. For so many months it had been easy, too easy to ignore everything and everyone. All feelings got swallowed up in the vacuum of grief and sadness, an ever-present, hungry abyss that preempted all wanting and laughter and hope and connection. There'd been no fight except to stay alive, at least until recently. Death seemed the natural state of things. Living, and living under the constantly repeating memory of Alistair's death, seemed a macabre distortion of everything natural.
Still, she had a purpose. A promise to the Wardens. A need to exact retribution against the darkspawn. And somewhere along the way the battle had migrated inward. Her body still had needs, needs reawakening after a long slumber, and it was necessary to take care in how she satisfied them. To leave this world having carved a path of pain in others was never in the plan. Hurting Nathaniel was not in the plan.
As nicely as she fit against him, remaining there was a very bad idea.
A very, very, very bad idea.
And yet, her body was turning, moving almost against her will. As though she'd thrown off the reins and allowed it freedom to follow its own lead. Nathaniel's hands sliding warmly around her waist, her own palms finding the flat plane of his torso, sliding up. It was all happening anyway, and she desperately wanted to let it.
Stop this. Stop this before it gets out of hand.
"Solona." His voice traveled in waves of shivers through her body. In her mind she conjured up his face, the strange beauty revealed in flashes of lightning, the fullness of the lips she'd barred herself from noticing. Those lips now so close. Nothing he'd said or done indicated he wouldn't welcome her kiss.
I won't do it, I'm just resting here for a moment. Just a moment.
Oh, to be kissed again. To be kissed the way Alistair used to kiss her, pulling her into him as though desperately trying to meld their bodies together by sheer force of will. To open her mouth and accept him inside her, to taste, to explore, as intimate and satisfying as making love.
In a slip of motion that felt as natural as breathing she found herself pressing against his chest, belly to belly. His breath hitched in her ear as his head bowed toward her, sending warm breath down her neck, a stubbled chin scraping softly against her temple. Palms dragging up his chest over curves of muscle landed on a heart pounding just as fiercely as hers. How perfectly she seemed to fit in his arms. How perfect it felt to have arms around her again. She breathed in his scent, her face reaching toward his collar. Each languid movement deployed as though through intoxication, her body compelled to follow some course charted outside her own will. Something inside her was seeking something inside him. A heavy hand pressed up her back.
But Alistair!
This. This was precisely the sort of thing Alistair would worry about. The intrusive thought made her flinch. There is much to worry about here.
The lure of his lips tugged at her mind, the desire to lose herself inside him was as powerful as any wish for death she'd ever harbored. It was the same in a way, wasn't it? To drown your awareness in an other, to lose oneself to something bigger, something separate?
She squeezed her eyes shut and called up that vision that always righted her: Alistair, bloodied, dying. Her love, fading out of the world before her very eyes. It was an image hard to hold onto; her body shouting its needs much louder than her mind.
A thumb on her cheek, cold and moist. Caressing the way it had done once before, by another shore on another dark, dangerous night.
"Solona," he said again.
Heat smoldered between her legs, her breaths never seeming to satisfy the need for air. Distantly she realized how firmly she was clutching at his waist, her fingers smarting with the force of her grip. More than a thumb at her face now. His palm slipping under her jaw, pulling gently upward, urging her to look, to blink at the darkness separating their faces. Breath left her, her lips parting, ready.
A new flash of Alistair. Not during his death but when he was full of life. His eyes, deep and gold and brimming with love, love so intense, so all-encompassing it lanced painfully through her gut. A surge of desperation clawed at her insides like a wild animal. A need to see him again, to see that again, that love that they shared for such a short, tumultuous, spectacular year. Why had the Maker given her something so beautiful, only to steal it away?
Outside the cacophony of her thoughts, her body continued to react. Breath on her lips, a whisper of a touch. Nathaniel smelled nothing like Alistair. He smelled warmly of leather and wood, a mesmerizing scent she wanted to drown in. Nathaniel was taller, leaner. Older and more experienced. His eyes weren't brown, but they blazed with a raging internal fire, a fire that promised to consume her just as soundly.
With a jerk, Solona looked down, removing her face from the threat of a kiss, heart blaring wildly in her ears. Her stomach soured, bile stinging its way up her throat.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
She had no idea who she was apologizing to.
Nathaniel shifted on his feet as he stroked her hair. His fingertips trailed lightly down the side of her neck, slow and lingering. Solona shuddered, a breath coming almost as a sob.
"I'm sorry." The words repeating in her head spoke aloud. But no, it wasn't her who'd said them. "Solona," Nathaniel continued. "I've no desire to push you. But you… You must know…" He trailed off. A heavy, shaky breath in her ear. "How often I think of you."
Solona's head lowered further. A leaden heaviness settled over her. She waited for the ground to swallow her up. It was not the reaction she wished she could give him.
Shame silenced any reply, shame that she'd allowed this, that she wasn't strong enough to resist, to keep things simple, to not leave a huge mess behind. Was it too late? Was it already inevitable that she would hurt him, no matter what else happened? How could she stop it? She should stop it, immediately. Put an end to all of this. She'd already let herself get carried away. Every second she stood pressed against him was only making things worse.
And yet his arms, solid and steady, seemed the only thing holding her up. His hands pressed, caressing, massaging at the small of her back. The strength to remove herself from his embrace couldn't be found. Her forehead brushed his shoulder. She gave in and let her head rest against it, nestling into the nook of his neck. Her body followed its lead, settling in closer. It was exactly what she shouldn't be doing. Damn it, Solona!
His arms tightened, their bodies braced against the other. Every breath he took, every beat of his heart resounded through her bones, galloping wildly, confusing its rhythm within her own. The excitement of his heartbeat spoke an answer to her fear. Yes. It was already too late.
She almost expected him to ask what Alistair had once asked. Do you think you might ever… feel the same way about me?
Blessedly, he posed no such question. Only the sound of rainfall prevailed, until Solona groaned unexpectedly. Maker, he was warm and the sensation of his body against hers seemed an answer to all the hunger that had been wracking her body for days. Nathaniel shifted again, his head coming to a rest on her hair, his thighs brushing tantalizingly against hers. Ripples of desire ached between her legs. The next image came unbidden: her body lifted, back pressed against a wall, his mouth at her throat, her legs parting, inviting him between them. Leathers discarded, flesh bare and steaming.
She felt herself moving, seeking the crevices and recesses of his body. The way he responded, the way their bodies seemed impossibly compatible in size and position was irresistible. Leather under searching hands, long hair brushing her cheek… something about it all so familiar…
Solona straightened, pulling back to study him. A puzzle piece fell unexpectedly into place.
"That was you in my bed," she declared. She barely knew what she was thinking until the words left her mouth. "A few weeks ago."
Slowly, Nathaniel's shadow nodded.
"You asked me to," he said.
Solona blinked at him. It was a shock, not an unpleasant one, but certainly a confusing one. Confusing for reasons she couldn't seem to comprehend in the moment. Nathaniel clutched her waist, his grip tightening, adjusting.
"I'm sorry. Nothing happened. I only held you," he said. "I can explain everything."
His words came tinged with worry, but Solona shook her head. It was a mystery solved, one she'd written off as a dream. She considered her reaction, unsure what was the appropriate response. Her fingers twitched with the desire to touch, to reach up to Nathaniel's face to caress his cheek, to soothe the audible concern. The surge of tenderness swelling her chest was overwhelming. Instead of letting her body act, she forced herself to remain still. Things had already gone too far this night. The raging urge to pull him to her mouth, to wrap her legs around him and drown her mind in his body was proof enough of that. This new revelation changed nothing. Or did it?
Space. Space to think. Or not to think. Or to just relieve herself of this complication. That was what she needed.
Mindlessly, Solona extricated herself from Nathaniel's arms. Somehow the shock had given back her ability to act.
"It's fine," she reassured him flatly. "Really, don't worry about it."
He stood silent and motionless. Solona was glad she couldn't see his face. She was certain she was disappointing him, she was doing the opposite of staunching his worry. She was increasing it. He didn't understand, but he was too kind, too worried to ask her to explain herself. All these things she knew with absolute certainty, though nothing in the darkness communicated it. And yet her body, still seething with desire, moved of its own accord. This time in the right direction, instead of falling back into his arms.
"Let's get back," she said. She couldn't explain anything anyway. Everything was too jumbled up now. She needed to separate out the strands of her thoughts and feelings, and figure out what the right course of action was. If there was one.
Before she could say or do anything more, Solona sprinted out into the rain.
Back in her room, exhaustion warred with a new burst of energy. Solona lit the fireplace and stripped away her soaked robe before wrapping herself in a blanket. She had the nagging certainty that she'd done exactly everything wrong. Kicking at the rug, she recounted all her failures. She shouldn't have held him, and allowed herself to be held like that. She knew that! She knew it then and she knew it now. She shouldn't have done most of those things she did. She let him think she wanted him, gave him hope for some kind of… something.
Because I do want him!
Pacing nervously, a thousand different impulses and sensations coursed through her body. If it had felt like that just to be held by him, then kissing him, fucking him would be a whole new world of trouble.
But is that really so bad?
Solona shook her head at the thought, casting it away. The answer to that question, if it was what she was afraid it was, changed everything. It meant saying goodbye forever to Alistair. It meant committing herself to life in this plane, to remaining a Warden, to rebuilding and leading an army. It meant more pain, more loss. It meant waking up every morning wondering if that day was the day her love might be taken from her again.
What could be done to stop this? Permanently?
The first answer that came to her had her throwing a fresh robe over her head and breezing out the door of her quarters. Each step down the hall she felt the ache between her legs, still fired up and demanding satiation. Even if what she was about to do clarified nothing, at least it would quiet the insistent urge that was driving her to distraction. Turning a corner, she heard herself speaking aloud again, admonishments that she was glad no one else was around to hear.
Who fucking cares. None of this matters anyway. At least this way he'll know… he'll know…
Flashes of his eyes, the feeling of his palm on her face, his breath, his voice drove her steps faster, harder. She needed something to drown it all out again. Something that was louder than her memory, something close to the death that continued to elude her.
Facing Anders' door, she heard laughter within. He already had a visitor for the night, of course. Before she had time to change her mind, Solona turned the latch and entered.
Anders was on his knees in front of the fire, before him a young, dark-skinned girl who moved quickly to cover her exposed breasts. Anders pulled his face away from her belly and eyed Solona with an amusing lack of surprise. His brown eyes sparkled, a brow raising questioningly.
"Excuse us please," Solona said to the girl, her tone leaving no room for argument. The girl paused dumbly, and then nodded and grabbed a tunic off the bed. In the time it took for the girl to depart, doubts clouded Solona's resolve. This wasn't the man she wanted. But this man would satisfy this hunger in her body and put a stop to the thoughts twisting up her insides. Or so she hoped. While it would surely remain as meaningless as what had transpired between them before, it would still kill Nathaniel's hopes were he to find out. Maybe it would put a stop to everything, let her continue along the path to Alistair that she'd already committed herself to.
She wasn't sure that even made any sense.
Anders sat back and wiped his lip. "Commander?" He smirked at her and nodded toward the door. "She could have stayed, you know. Three times the fun."
"Be quiet," Solona sighed. "And take your clothes off."
Anders' smirk widened. "Yes, Commander."