On my way back to my tent I heard a slight shift of footing just inside and knew then that I was not alone anymore. Whether it be one of my foolish camp mates come to sneak into my tent while I was away or some stray creature, I decided I would have a bit of fun with them before bed.
Playing the fool, I boldly entered the tent and glanced only once to assure myself it was not some filthy creature crawling inside, but rather the slight outline of a figure hunched beside my trunk. Now who could possibly gain to sneak into my bed at this hour? I immediately ruled three of my party members out - Sten, Alistair, and Wynne. Leliana's precious and flowery Maker-driven ethics should exclude her also, though I wouldn't put it past her thieving little fingers to filch my jewelry. Morrigan had no sense in sneaking about when she knew I would wake at any hour to chat with her. That only left one possible answer of someone willing to sneak about my tent in the middle of the night - my would-be loyal assassin, newly aligned in my service by the weight of my coin and threatening party. A company fast asleep and unwary of the danger now perched alongside my messy trunk still strewn with smallclothes. Oh what a clever and stupid little elf he was.
I was busy fumbling to pull my nightgown over my head when I felt the cold steel of a knife to my back. I slowed then, and gently let the rest of the fabric slip over my head and fall in a heap in front of me. Certainly, he didn't feel like wasting time. The cold prick against my bare skin chilled my naked torso, and caused me to breath in sharp and quick through my nose. I tilted my head ever-so-slightly to catch a glimpse of his predatory gaze over my shoulder, and smiled.
"Much in a hurry, are we?" I purred. I should have expected him to wait until I was at least pretending to sleep before he tempted his prize. I felt his iron grip on both of my arms loosen in the slightest, then twist anew. His weapon sharpened against my spine.
"I say rest when I am dead," he chuckled, low and throaty. Oh, he certainly was enjoying himself, wasn't he? I had picked up on that sadistic charm over the past few weeks as his leg steadily mended and he found himself once again able to cloak himself in the dark and move behind the trees. I could sense his blood no matter how far he hid.
The sneaky little brat thinks he's clever, darling. That's cute.
For once I agreed with my cynical spirit companion. By playing the dull and uninterested he had taken both myself and my company as fools. How wrong I wanted to prove him, though that would have to wait for the moment until I could twist his filthy arrogance right back around in his face. I tried to hide the begging snarl under a smile, though it was failing terribly.
I breathed in deep and slow through my nose to calm my throbbing pulse, then shut my eyes to focus. If I lost control, then I would surely spoil my prize. The steady hum that had built around my nerves to tear open the Fade fell quiet, then released the tension in the air as I loosened my shoulders. I shifted back to straighten myself (despite the sharper prick of his knife - he hesitantly pulled it away so I would not pierce myself, the courteous and foolish man) and noticed his arms were bare.
I leaned further back until my head pressed against his shoulder, and breathed beside him. Warm, firewood scented skin. He wore no tunic, or perhaps like myself he wore nothing but smallclothes. I myself began to notice the chilly night air prickling my bare breasts. By his slightly wandering eyes, I assumed he noticed as well. I grinned again.
"Enjoying the view?" I tested in a throaty, daring growl. He must have taken my tension for interest, for I felt quite suddenly a tell-tale bulge brush me from behind as he spread his knees outward and pushed himself closer, resting his mouth against my neckline.
"To say the least," he breathed. His voice was husky and full of primal lust, though I wondered if he were the kind to act solely on that desire or perhaps lull it from his victims through so-called charm. He struck me as the latter, though the former would never surprise me. Nonetheless, I kept my right hand prepared and legs tensed the closer he drew.
Draw closer, assassin. I'll show you what you want.
Despite my senses warning me of danger and muscles tensed for attack, I couldn't help but ease into a heated brush against my shoulder. It felt warm and inviting - something I had long expected of my foolish elven assassin. I did not hide myself from the idea of bedding the man; he was, after all, deceptively handsome in a sultry sort of manner that begged from half-lidded bedroom eyes.
Morrigan and I had indulged on several occasions the method in which he would approach the situation, sometimes jokingly as being the sort of bed with all smoke and no power. From the solid form and texture of his body pressing steadily into mine, however, I was quickly conforming to the idea of a hard and passionate lover. A blush spread up my neck the further down his tempting mouth drifted, and suddenly I felt like forgetting my revenge for a little while - maybe.
"So tell me, assassin," I started in before I lost my footing in the conversation completely. He leisurely tilted his head with a smile, then removed his weapon from my back to place it under my chin. My throat tilted back; exposed, white, and open. "Have you achieved what you came here for?" I dared. "Or will you ever stick your blade where it belongs?"
It took only a flashing moment - a grip on his arm, and a quick twist of my body to clip him under my thigh. By the time my disorienting spell wore off, I had mounted the foolish man and held him by both wrists high above his head. His stomach felt warm against my legs, though I ignored it for the moment in favor of enjoying the change of pace. Leaning over him, I twisted my body and bared a vicious smile.
"Perhaps in your own heart," I hissed while conjuring the abandoned weapon by magic and tilting it to aim at his chest. It floated there, taunting, as I waited for his response. He surveyed me from leisurely half-lidded brown eyes, and spread a slow and appreciative grin over his lips.
"You know, I am certainly one for kinky foreplay - but perhaps this is a bit much, no?" he tried in a light and chuckling tone. My smile disappeared.
"Cute, but you should have tried that five minutes ago," I warned while forcing the blade more until it cut a thin slice into his chest. He winced, though only slight, then smiled again.
"My apologies," he rasped. "I-I should have known better. Perhaps you could punish me in a less… mutilating way? Bindings and whips are greatly encouraged!" Though his attempts at steering the conversation away from who-leaves-the-tent-alive were amusing, I would not quickly forget my irritation over disturbing my evening. I narrowed my gaze and removed the floating weapon before letting my bare chest rest against his. He breathed in sharp and quick, unsure of what to think of this new position I'd placed him in.
"Can I assume all is forgiven, or shall I fetch Wynne for another broken leg?" he jested. Now his jokes were irritating. I wanted to shut him up.
I gestured with my hand and forced his body to sit up, still under my control. I re-adjusted to sit comfortably on his lap - ignoring the indecisive erection still pressing against my thigh - and bound his wrists behind his back by the same magic so I could freely move my arms.
"Now," I cleared my throat, wrapping my legs around his waist and leaning into him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and waited, unsure. "Assuming that you meant to kill me with that pathetic attempt on my life, I won't return the favor so quickly as you failed to do," I frowned at him, silently scolding him over his lack of professionalism, then continued.
"Perhaps I was not clear enough," I twirled my finger and used a spare bit of nearby rope to weightlessly circle around his neck and jerk tight, "when I said were you to step a single foot out of line, I shall tear your limbs off." I twirled my finger again, tightening the rope until he began to cough. Veins emerged from his neck, and as I breathed in I could sense the beat of his own quickening pulse. She invited me tauntingly, though I knew he didn't deserve that measure of theatrics.
Oh please, my pretty pet. He would bleed so beautifully.
"Just so I can be perfectly clear," I sneered, still tightening the rope, "if I should ever catch you sneaking into my tent again, I will rip off what you value most." My free hand gripped harshly to his groin, and with satisfaction I witnessed a sputtering whimper try to conform from his strangled throat. He looked far less attractive in that respect, so after a disgusted snort I released the rope and allowed him to breath. He gasped in ragged and throaty wheezes, then slowed after a few breaths until he could control himself again. His face was a little less red when he finally addressed me.
"As beautiful and ferocious as the day I met you, my Warden," he smiled while reaching up a newly-freed hand to rub his throat. A weak cough escaped again, then burrowed under a grimacing smirk in attempts to hide the pain. He was not one for asphyxiation, it seemed.
It was only after a few moments I realized I had yet to remove myself from his lap. Perhaps it was out of some unconscious desire to remain there, but my arms were wound about his neck as I straddled his waist. Despite everything, I noticed a re-emerging hardness still valiantly brushing my legs. I commended him on the effort.
I was still exhilarated by the feeling of using my magic, of the thrill to control another so easily and comfortably. My heart was pounding, my blood was pumping, and my spirit burst to life from the sudden connection to the Fade. Cool, refreshing water rushed through my chest and to the tips of my extremities. I breathed in and, releasing my final hold on him, shut my eyes and felt my entire body shiver with liberation.
Perhaps he took this as an invitation, or perhaps I didn't really care how he viewed it. Regardless, I found my thighs suddenly tight around his waist and a tongue exploring my mouth. He twisted me over in one fluid movement and placed me on my back before grinding up against me.
Oh Maker, it had been far too long since I'd felt a man's touch - strong hands on my back, warm stomach against my own, and a hot, inviting mouth melding with mine. Very few of the fumbling tower boys were competent enough to know how to handle a woman, much less please her. There had been a few, truly enjoyable little trysts I remembered, though most were a disappointment. The fact that Jowan had been amongst those few capable didn't say much, and even more so distressed me to the point I had even tried out a few of the templar boys, only to be disappointed more by their… short running time with any female in the tower.
Oh, but this elf knew what he was doing. The little clothing still on our bodies was removed expertly and effortlessly, and from there it was the natural warmth of flesh against flesh, bodies entwining around one another as serpents. He did not rush into it as I expected, but ran confident fingers over my figure until he discovered my most sensitive spots.
I was trembling from the electric chill of his fingertips by the time he finally found his prize. Placing two middle-most fingers into his smiling mouth, he rested beside me and slipped his fingertips between my thighs. I tensed up at first - even Jowan was never confident enough to perform the task - then relaxed with a throaty exhale and allowed him to part my lips. As if summoned, he met my hungry mouth, all the while wielding his fingertips as expertly as a painter, easing in with every stroke and making my body warm with liquid fire.
"My sweet, fiery minx," he breathed into my ear. "Are you enjoying yourself?" I paused amidst my squirming and arching torso and gripped his waist, turning my burning gaze on him with a half-parted mouth.
"Maker's breath, where did you learn that?" I hissed in a low and husky voice unaccustomed to myself. I shut my eyes and tilted my head back when he slipped further inside, then drew his fingers out, hot and wet. He chuckled at my pleasure.
"The boys from your so-called tower did not treat you very kindly, I see," he murmured into my neck, then removed his hand to adjust himself so that he could rest his body atop mine. I could feel he was fully-aroused now, though he still resisted in light of torturing me further. I hated to admit I loved it.
While grinding up against me, he breathed into my ear.
"Did they not please you, my Warden?" he murmured. His voice was like silk against my throat, and prickled the hairs on my neck. I arched my back and dug into the flesh of his waist, trying to pull him in. He pressed hard against me, though he would not enter. I groaned in frustration. He laughed.
"Did they not excite every part of you?" he growled, then opened his mouth wide and bit my throat and sucked at it. I let out an unexpected yelp of thrilling pleasure, then wrapped my legs tighter around his waist. He threw himself against me, still taunting, though by chance barely slipped inside then pulled away again.
"Because you deserve to be pleasured, dear Isthalla," he said, then finally plunged deep inside between my legs and caused me to cry out in rapture. "I'd love to hear you scream for me, my fiery elven jewel," he finished with a throaty growl against my jaw, then grabbed my face and pushed my mouth open fervently with his own before drawing out and sliding effortlessly back inside with a single, firm thrust. His hand stroked the side of my face, then trailed down my throat as he leaned back and pulled out entirely again.
"Oh, please let me hear you scream, my little minx," he grinned, then gathered my body in to his arms and thrust hard into me, pulled out, and rhythmically repeated this process until friction gave way to slick, wet fluid between my legs. I arched my back and screamed for him, I screamed until my voice became hoarse.
No amount of child's play fumblings in the closet or secret meetings in the library at night in my youth could account for what that assassin did to me. I counted each release - once, twice, three times - then lost count as the evening went on and I moved between hazy, ecstasy-thrilled bursts and hot-heavy breathing between slick, moving bodies. It was during a short break to catch our breath that he was delighted to find out my Wardening also included infertility, and was free to continue without pause.
After he was assured I had been pleased to the point of exhaustion, I felt his own body began to throb and shiver with the desperate ache for release. He had lasted a commendably long time - much longer than any other man I had bedded. In fact he was quite possibly the best lover I'd had the pleasure of bedding in my 19 years.
Shortly before I thought he might burst from the build-up, he flipped me over on my stomach and sent me back into another round of hot, white pleasure that forced guttural moans from my mouth. He thrust relentlessly until I could hardly keep up with my shaking breath to accommodate the sensation wracking my body. Triggered by my orgasm, I felt his entire body tense and throb before spilling into me - further driving my own release into an unexpected shriek of blinding pleasure.
I swear to the Maker I saw spots when he finally pulled out and fell down beside me. I decidedly stayed where he'd left me face-down with a steadily-hot liquid staining my sheets between my legs. We both spent the better half of the first few minutes after catching our breath, then when I finally looked over to him - hair tangled and sweaty, face distorted, eyes nearly shut - I smiled.
"I should have done that much sooner," I breathed while closing my eyes and grinning. When I opened my eyes he was looking curiously at me, almost in a child-like manner. His brow raised.
"You mean to say we could have been enjoying one another's company like this weeks ago?" he smirked. Settling more on to his back, he crossed his arms behind his head and sighed. "Maybe I should have tried to kill you sooner," he joked.
I laughed for what felt like the first time in years.
"Don't test your luck, assassin," I shoved him in the arm and rolled over, pulling my knees under me. I frowned when I looked at the wet spots all over my bedroll. "Lest we need new sheets every time," I snorted, then grabbed a nearby tunic and did my best to clean up the mess.
"A clear sign of a good time, no?" he pleaded with a curt smile. I gave up on the stains and laid back down beside him, resting my head on his chest. He felt warm.
"Not for those that must clean the linens," I lightly scolded before sighing deep and wrapping an arm around his waist.
He breathed slow and steady until I was lulled into comfort by the sensation and soon fell asleep. Sometime in the night I felt him shift in the slightest to pull a blanket over us both and kiss my forehead. It had been a long time since I'd fallen asleep in someone's arms, but it was perhaps one of the best nights of sleep I'd gotten in what felt like ages. I only woke once when the stars were still out to find him wrapped protectively around me from behind and buried in my hair. I pulled his hands up to my face and held it to my chest, letting his fingertips brush my lips.
For the life of me, I never expected an assassin like him to be so comforting.