This chapter is probably one hundred percent cock teasing, just so you now. Even though nothing really happens, I still blushed through most of it. To me, being erotic is not just the act of sex, as fun as it can be to write. It's the moments before that really matter, the build up. Characters wanting things without saying it, just letting the moment speak for itself.
There is a lot of it in this chapter, and I swear it was both fun to write, and nerve wracking. I was so sure any moment someone would look over my shoulder and think I was doing something dirty because I was grinning so much.
Enjoy the silly depravity, and remember I don't own Dragon Age. But wow, I wish I did sometimes.
Chapter 3: Maintain Control
By the time Loghain awoke, it was late at night. Darkness and shadow covered the room like shear black curtains, fluttered a little from a source of light. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed and he saw a candle on the nightstand next to his bed, lit with a plate of dinner made of meats and potatoes covered in gravy waiting for him along with some ale and bread. There was also a small note tucked underneath the plate that he picked up and unfolded to read.
'You seemed too tired to wake up, so I had the servants just leave you be. Please enjoy dinner. I sent word to Queen Anora about your arrival. She wants to have breakfast with you so I might not see you until the afternoon.'
The plate was still warm, but barely. He could only assume the food had been left for him about an hour ago or so. He didn't set to eating right away, instead looking up at the moving shadows. At first he thought they had been cast by small candle but they were moving too much for such a small flame. He looked over to the large window that opened up into a balcony, seemingly bathed in light, and moved to inspect it.
The balcony was on the side of the building and right around a corner the courtyard in the back of the manor was about halfway in view. It was alight with a large bonfire in the middle, and in front of it, someone stood. For a second Loghain didn't realize just who it was, until ice began to form over the fire, flakes of snow filling the air and pulled together in the air, forming a little blizzard right above the flickering flames.
Oh, it was Solona. Was she practicing her magic?
The ice grew larger and larger in the air until it was about the size of a large rock. He watched in curiosity as she held her hands out in front of herself. Her fingers flexed and layers of snow wrapped around the ice over and over. Even far away, he could see her tremble slightly. She was dressed in only a light shirt and pants, her hair in a sloppy ponytail and he wondered if she was feeling the heat or if the magic she was casting was keeping her cool.
There had to be a lot of power there, to keep the ice solid, even as the flames licked at it. He didn't see it melt or decrease in size at all. Was she doing that all by herself? It was an amazing feat.
He'd often heard the tales of the power of mages. It was a large part of the Chantry, to keep both magic and mages under control. Like any other man, he believed in the Maker and His teachings, but he'd never concerned himself with the issue often. Magic was to be contained by the templars, and he was certainly no templar.
The power of magic had never truly concerned him before, until she'd faced him. When she'd elected to fight him at the Landsmeet as Alistair's champion, he had scoffed at the little girl in front of him. He'd never believed for a second she could have beaten him.
Her moves had been precise and controlled, like any soldier practicing his swings and moves. She'd formed ice around him, freezing his movements and hurling fire at him when he'd been unable to move. The very forces of nature itself had listened to her, all seemingly from a wave of her fingers. The young woman less than half his age had defeated him and wrestled control of a country out of his grasp. The Chantry was right to fear them, yet she had a grace about her that didn't seem threatening. Solona had no desire to destroy anything, and even less of a desire to rule. She truly did all she did out of a sense of duty. A snap of her thin wrists could probably end a man's life, and yet she did everything she could to preserve it.
He'd always heard that power corrupted so easily, and yet he had never seen it affect her. Did she have no weaknesses at all?
He watched her thrust her hands up suddenly, the ice shooting up into the sky and bursting apart. She laughed a little as she twirled around, the magic suddenly snowing around her. She stopped short though at seeing him watching her, frozen by his gaze as easily as she had once trapped him with her very magic.
Loghain couldn't make out her expression from so far away, but noticed the magic shift immediately. The slow falling flakes suddenly hit the fire, melting in an instant. He knew she was looking at him, even if he couldn't make out the exact look on her face.
She suddenly left the clearing, heading back into the house and he could not see her around the corner anymore. Should he not have been watching? For her to leave so suddenly without acknowledging him seemed strange. He had expected at least a wave or something.
He went to his dinner and ate slowly, wondering what had just happened. He half expected her to come to his room to talk to him, but she never came.
It was oddly disappointing.
#-#
The next morning was warmer than he was expecting when Loghain left for the castle. He'd looked around for Solona to say good morning, but he'd been informed by the servants she was already out running errands. Just what she could possibly need to do so early in the morning that she couldn't send her servants out for was beyond him, but he didn't bother to ask. He would just catch her later on.
He had not planned on it, but he wore his Grey Warden armor for the visit. He felt he was there mostly to represent the Wardens. This festival was to mark the end of the Blight after all, which his Order had brought about. It seemed his duty to represent them as best as possible, even if he was sure people would be more interested to see Solona rather than himself.
Anora was waiting for him, and he bowed a little before he sat down with her, servants moving around to pour their drinks and set food in front of them.
"Hello, Father," she said with a smile. "It's so good to have you home for a while."
"Thank you. I wasn't expecting the invitation," he said. "It was a pleasant surprise though."
"Oh yes. I'd heard Commander Amell had asked you to come," she said as she took a biscuit and spread some butter over it. "I'll have to thank her for that later on. I had thought she'd use her invitation to being Nathaniel Howe or something. He's become her second-in-command, you know?"
"I'm sure his father is rolling in his grave," he said with a smirk. "Good for him. I'm not sure why Solona asked me home. I didn't bother to ask her, though I'll admit I was curious about it. I'd just assumed she had asked for my sake, give me a chance to come home for a short while."
"Solona?" she asked. "I was unaware you referred to her as such. What's wrong with Commander Amell?"
"She's hardly my commander," he said. He looked at her when her daughter gazed him with open curiosity. "What?"
"Nothing," Anora said, giving a small shrug. "I'm just surprised. I didn't know you were on first name basis with her. When I heard about you two writing one another, I assumed it was only so she could give you information about the Grey Wardens in the area. Of course, she always called you Loghain, but she's not exactly proper for the nobility around here."
"We have become friends over the time," he explained. "Does that surprise you?"
"Hmmm, I suppose not. She has a charm about her, I suppose. An honesty that seems refreshing at court, although I think half the time she wants to get killed, the way she talks so bluntly," she said. "I can see though how such honesty is appreciated by you. You always did like that trait in people, Father. You aren't going to stat comparing her to King Maric, are you? It seems a habit for those you think highly of."
"No, she's nothing like Maric," Loghain said as he shook his head. "Maybe as honest, but those are the only two things they would have in common. Speaking of Maric though, how is his boy? I take it from the fact the country hasn't burned down, Alistair is able to keep himself from accidentally doing anything too rash."
"He's... proven better at politics than I would have thought," she admitted. "He's a good man, though hard headed. He always believes his way is the best way to do things, and he hardly listens to me. It makes things difficult at times."
"Sounds like you," Loghain said with a bit of a chuckle. "You haven't tamed him like you did with Cailan?"
"Probably because she can't find a treat to make me roll over like my brother," Alistair stated coldly from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest from where he was standing at the door. Some servants immediately went up to him to ask him if he needed anything, but he waved them off.
"Alistair!" Anora gasped as she stood up suddenly. "I thought you were going to be inspecting the guards this morning on the training grounds. What are you doing here?"
"Well the smell of cinnamon toast was too hard to resist," he said with a smirk before it fell to a frown. "That and the stink of treachery."
"Alistair," Loghain said, not bothering to stand.
"Loghain," he answered back bitterly before looking back at his wife. "This is the first time this week when I had an excuse to not meet you for breakfast you didn't throw a fit. I thought I'd come to see why. I guess you had a guest. Did I interrupt?"
"I wasn't trying to hide him from you," Anora said, a bit of anger on the edge of her voice.
"Oh, I never said you were," he replied casually. "Clearly this is the day to parade killers about the breakfast table. You should have informed me, Anora. I would have happily dug up Howe and propped him up next to his friend. The conversations would have been riveting, though granted Howe might have needed a ventriloquist so as not to be left out."
"How long have you been waiting to use that joke, boy?" Loghain asked casually as he drank his juice. "Been wanting to unleash your horrid humor for when you saw me next for a while now?"
"Oh, you have no idea what I've wanted to unleash on you, Loghain," Alistair stated coldly. "What is he doing here?"
"Why do you think, Alistair?" Anora snapped.
"He's here for the celebration? Are we to raise thanks to him? Oh gee, Loghain. Good thing you stopped your civil war that was killing everyone just in time for us to be able to defend ourselves. We owe you so much," he asked his wife mockingly as she glared at him.
"As a matter of a fact, he is," she said defiantly. "He is my father. I have every right to see him."
"So you asked him to come?!" the king snapped. "You really think the people here want to see him? I'm not the only one who believes his head belongs on a chopping block, Anora! He nearly killed us all!"
"I did not invite him! I had nothing to do with it!" Anora replied angrily before actually looking smug at him as she placed her hands on her hips. "As a matter of fact, it was your sweet little Commander Amell who asked him here."
"Solona asked him?" Alistair asked, seeming to falter for a second. "She did? Why?"
"Probably to see a friend," she said with a satisfied look in her eyes. "Haven't you heard? The two have become quite close."
"She knows how I feel about him," he muttered. "She wouldn't have rubbed him in my face like this."
"I told her she could have a guest when I wrote out her invitation. She was the one who chose my father," she sniffed haughtily. "Clearly she doesn't care as much about your feelings as you seem to think she does."
"Anora," Loghain cut in as he stood up. "Don't fan the flames, darling. I'll see myself out."
"But, Father," she protested, but he cut her off.
"I am not wanted here, and I'm not going to press my welcome," he said. Actually, he just didn't want to sit there and listen to the pair of them argue about the magic user. He was starting to suspect he could see where the problems between the two were, and he had a feeling he had little to actually do with it. Solona was dear to him, but Anora was dearer. He'd hate to think she was coming in between the two. He'd feel the urge to do something about it, and he was trying to keep to his no interference policy.
From the way Solona had spoken about Alistair, he'd often wondered if she loved him. Perhaps the marriage had left her feeling like the other woman, the odd one out while Anora had the prize of the bastard prince turned king. He'd felt sympathy for her, being in such a situation. If it was revealed to him his poor daughter also feeling left out, losing Alistair to another woman he had a feeling he wouldn't be so kind to Solona.
It was honestly just best for him to keep out of it. The three of them could work out their own affairs without his interference, especially since he seemed to be a point of contention between Alistair and the two young women.
"I'll be taking my leave now," he said, kissing his daughter on the forehead. "I will see you later."
The door wasn't even closed before they began to yell at each other and he rolled his eyes.
"I hope you're happy! You drove my father out of my own home!"
"Oh! I'm ecstatic! Every time I see him walk away, free from his crimes, I do a little jig!"
Oh Maker. Loghain rubbed at his temples and left, shaking his head. He was so happy he was too old to be pulled into nonsense like this.
#-#
Solona was back by the time he reached her home. She was in her study, several parchments on her desk that she was standing over, scribbling on with a quill, her fingers a little stained with black ink. This time, she was not dressed in some fancy gone, instead robes of a the Circle, a long white and light purple thing with a hood tossed off of her head and cascading over her shoulders.
"Hard at work?" he asked her, causing her to look up.
"Loghain. I wasn't expecting you back so soon," she said. "Did you have a good visit with the queen?"
"I did, until her husband showed up," he informed her honestly and she winced a little.
"Did they fight?" she asked.
"I'm surprised they didn't start throwing the plates at each other," he said. "It seemed wise to come back early."
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," he told her. "The things I did are what I have to live with, no one else. There will always be those that think I deserved worse than I received. It was foolish of Anora not to warn him I was coming."
"She... she didn't tell him?" Solona asked him in confusion.
"Apparently not."
"I would have thought... I mean she..." she muttered before sighing. "I swear, sometimes it seems like she enjoys pushing his buttons."
"This happen often, I take it?" he asked.
"Who knows?" she replied before shrugging. "I haven't spoken to the king in... I don't even remember how long ago it was. It's hard to approach him when he loathes me so."
"What?"
"He's made no attempt to hide it," she explained. "I imagine it was the talk of the court for a while, our falling out. Not that it matters now. I receive my orders from my superiors, my king and my queen. That's all I really need. He's a good leader. That's what matters. Why go to him when he would probably just glare at me and not say anything?"
That was not the impression he'd seen when the king had spoken about her, but he didn't mention it. Again, he had to remind himself that it was not in his place to pry. He especially didn't want to start telling the woman he theorized loved that oaf he certainly didn't seem to hate her as much as she thought. It might just be the opposite actually.
Oh yes, that would do wonders for the marriage.
"It's better that I keep myself occupied than worry about that kind of thing anyway," she said as she turned the parchment she'd been working on to show him. It was a map of Vigil's Keep. "We're still rebuilding. It might take years to get it back to the way it should be. We have temporary defenses of course, enough for the directionless darkspawn, but it still needs work. I want to try to rebuild it better this time too. The dwarves have some marvelous ideas for the stonework, and I've been thinking about perhaps asking the Circle for enchantments."
"Why not enchant the keep yourself?" he asked, making her laugh.
"Loghain, I'm just a single woman. I couldn't cast and maintain the charms all by myself. Even long lasting spells need maintenance to upkeep. You honestly think I could handle all of that alone?" she asked him.
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "You're more powerful than any woman I've ever met. I've seen you accomplish much more than things like that."
Solona flushed a little as she looked down on the papers. He watched her wipe at her hands with a nearby clothe, trying to clean them.
"I... thank you," she whispered. "It means a lot to me, to hear such praise from a man like you."
"Like me?" he asked. "You defeated me once before, you know."
"You say it like it was easy. I can assure you, it was anything but. Besides, you are an admirable man, Loghain. You're an inspiration to many people. You saved this country with the king, gave your all to Ferelden all your life. You risked condemning your own soul in the Maker's eyes to save this land."
"And nearly destroyed it," he pointed out.
"I won't deny there are mistakes in your history, but that short and dark time in your life should not overshadow the good you have done and that you have continued to do. There are plenty who could just say they messed up and just give up. It takes a lot of courage to keep going like you have," she said. She glanced down at the desk as she heard him approach her. He stood over her and her eyes met his gaze, not flinching away.
"There are plenty here that would not agree with me. They think the only way I can pay for what I did is with blood."
"They're wrong. Your death wouldn't have accomplished nothing back then, and it wouldn't accomplish anything now. Besides, they've lost sight of what you are."
"And what am I, Solona?" he asked her, leaning over her. He planted his hands on the desk behind her on either side of her hips so she could not escape this time like she had the night before. Her words seemed too flattering, too eager to forgive. Even though she had said this plenty in letters, for some reason he didn't believe it when face to face with her. He had committed terribly crimes. No one save Anora could have possibly blamed her if she'd chosen to cut him down two long years ago.
"A good man," she breathed, her chest heaving a little under her robes. He didn't mean to glance down and see it, but he was so close to her now, she was almost brushing against him with ever breath. Was he intimidating her? She seemed to be having problems keeping her breathing under control.
"It can't possibly be that simple to you," he challenged with a little growl. "Nothing is that easy, not in the lives people like us lead."
"I think you and I both know that being a good person is probably the farthest thing from being easy," she said before she laid a hand on his chest. "Underneath all that pride and armor, I've seen you, Loghain. I know what you really are. Faltering, even as horribly as you did, does not change the fact you are trying."
His gloved hand slowly traced over hers. She was so touchy now. She hadn't been like that before. Just what was going through her head?
"Loghain..." she breathed, inching closer.
"Why did you ask me here?" he asked her suddenly.
She stopped short, looking up at him, confusion coloring her eyes.
"What? What do you mean?"
"It's a simple enough of a question."
She paused a second and her hand dropped down from his chest as he backed away from her. The mage seemed to be thinking it over a little bit, as if she didn't know herself, but he had a feeling that wasn't the case. The look on her face, it was like she was warring with herself a bit.
"Because I missed you," she confessed finally.
"It had nothing to do with Alistair then?"
"What could it have possibly done with His Majesty?" she asked, seeming confused.
He considered telling her about the fight between Alistair and Anora. It had occurred to him perhaps Solona had asked him here in order to cause problems between the husband and wife in order to drive him between them and pluck up Alistair for herself. For a brief moment he'd been reminded of that whore of an Empress Celene, vying for Cailan's affections, caring nothing for pushing Anora away from him. Could Solona really be like that, underneath her sweet face and understanding personality? Had all those letters, building a friendship with him just been a ploy to try to destroy a marriage she herself had suggested. Put Alistair on the throne and then slide into Anora's place when the man got tired of her?
"Perhaps I should go back," he suggested, watching her carefully for a reaction. "Fight or no, I did come to see my daughter."
"Really?" she asked, her disappointment obvious. "Actually, I was hoping we could spend the day together. Besides, they should have time to calm down. They need to be able to learn to compromise with one another if they're ever going to grow. It's whats best for them."
"You believe that might help them?" he asked.
"I don't think being pushed between them could help in the slightest," she stated honestly. "And to be frank, I didn't invite you here to see your daughter. That might be why you came here, but my motives are entirely different."
"And those motives are?"
"Like I said, Loghain. I missed you. Is it that odd for a woman to want the company of a decent man?" she asked him.
He snorted and shook his head.
"Your humor is even worse than your king's. You need better jokes," he said as he turned away and walked out. He didn't see the look of hurt on her face as he left before she trailed after him.
"I don't recall joking," she sighed softly.
The rest of the morning went by peacefully, the mood quiet and calming. She gave him a little bit of a tour of the manor, what was in use anyway. Not many things had changed, several of the rooms the same, but she'd taken to decorating and changing the few rooms that she did have an affinity with it. Like her office, the main hall had been changed, the large paintings of the Howe's removed. Given to Nathaniel so she told him. The suits of armor remained though, many of them the Howe family crest, but they weren't as well polished as they'd once been.
The library was what she'd changed the most. Now most of the tomes were on magical theory, spells and several leather bound books she revealed were her own grimoires or ones she'd collected over the years from other mages. There was a decent collection of them, but he had a feeling if he opened any of them, it would all be gibberish to him. There were still plenty of the old books though, history and laws of the land, some of them laying open and recently looked over.
"You've been studying," he noted.
"It's a good idea to have an idea just what to expect when it comes to politics," she explained. "Can't be too prepared, even as much as it doesn't suit me."
"You seem to do fine enough with it. You made Alistair king after all," he pointed out.
"I ran around like a wild nug, collecting evidence and praying half the time," she said with a bit of a chuckle. "I'm not nearly sneaky enough to do half the things some of these nobles pull off. I just try my best to keep the peace in Amaranthine and keep the people happy. I think the fact I've never shown many personal ambitions helped. I keep out of trouble because most of them don't figure I'm worth bothering with."
"That's a way to get around trouble," he agreed.
"It's all about control, not power," she said. "It's just like my magic. It's important to keep things balanced. To truly master magic, you have to be able to contain the spell, not unleash it. Those lessons can be applied to many things in life."
"What do you mean?"
"Mmmm, how to explain it," she said as she looked around for something that would provide a good example. She plucked up a small bookend and looked at it for a moment before she shook her head and put it back. She then grabbed an hour glass that had been resting on one of the upper shelves, standing on her tip toes and stretching in a way that made her outfit pull a little too tightly against parts of her body. Loghain couldn't help but think there should be more space for her breasts in that thing, especially they way it clung so close.
"Alright, here," she said, showing him the glass when she'd collected it. "The sand in here is precisely measured, meant to count time. If there wasn't an exact amount of sand in there, it would in effect be broken, right? The same can be said for the opening that allows the sand to flow. This is measure and created to be just so, in order to do its job correctly."
"Of course."
"Now, imagine this glass in the body of a mage," she instructed, "and the sand is the energy moving through us. The more sand there is, the longer it can go, but we must keep a tight focus on it, or it wouldn't move through us at a proper pace. Make the funnel too big, and all the sand falls through in a moment. A strong, uncontrollable burst in an instant. This is usually what causes accidents with young mages. They have the power, but no control. Most mages understand this. To make the most of our talents, we need to learn to control it, focus it and let it flow the way we need it to. Some mages however, think the answer is to get more power, to put more sand in. Not necessarily wrong, but the problem with that kind of thinking is that those kind of mages will usually do anything for power. Blood magic, deals with demons, any shortcut because they don't have the patience for control and then slowly building power like we're taught. When that happens... imagine someone putting more and more sand into the glass, even to the point where it's full. Keep trying to force it, and eventually the glass shatters."
"Yet so many try it?" he asked her.
"Yes," she admitted. "That's the problem. It's easy to look at a sand glass and see when it shouldn't take any more. It's much harder with ourselves. Some mages tell themselves they can take it, even when they can't. Magic can urge people to push the boundaries, and sometimes going over those boundaries too quickly is fatal."
"I would imagine learning discipline would be easy, once you understand the theory," he said. "Is that not true?"
"Oh no. It is easy to learn," she assured him. "The problem is maintaining it. Even master spell casters have to practice occasionally. It's not hard, like a breathing exercise, but it makes casting much easier if you take the time to practice once in a while."
"I see," he said. "Do you?"
"Yes," she answered, glancing away for a moment. "Last night in fact, when you saw me. That's actually what I was doing. The point of that wasn't to form the snow over the fire, but to maintain it. Keep it cold without melting over the fire. If it turned to water, it would put out the fire, and if the fire wasn't strong enough there wouldn't be a challenge. It's all in finding the balance."
"It seems difficult," he admitted. "You do this all the time?"
"No. Only when I need to find my focus again. In stressful times or when I let myself get too distracted. Most of the time for a mage it's not that hard to keep the magic from going wild, but it's wise to use precautions when you know you're getting a little off kilter."
Her fingers traced together as she looked at him, watch him think over everything he had told her. She didn't often get to explain her magic to other people. Most weren't interested. Well, Alistair had been, but he had joked so often through her lectures it was hard to make her point. Besides, he seemed to know enough about magic to fight it. It wasn't like he had ever needed to understand more, but Loghain seemed honestly curious, listening to her give her little lecture.
"Can you give me a practical demonstration?" he asked her suddenly.
"Wait. What?" Solona asked in surprise. "Really?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Well, no. Not really," she admitted. "I usually practice my spells in the back. We can do it there."
She led him out of the library, a little taken off guard by his asking, but in a good way. That had been a nice surprise to her that he was so interested in what she was saying.
He leaned against the stone walls as he watched her, and she felt oddly nervous. It wasn't that she was worried about losing control or anything in front of him, but even so, she was still putting on a little bit of a show for him. She wanted to impress him.
Often when she went through her exercises, she used ice. It was the safest element in her opinion. Lightning had a tendency to be too quick, a flash of intense power and then gone, and fire could get out of control so easily. The point was to focus oneself, and even if the ice did get out of hand it often didn't do much damage that couldn't be reversed.
He had seen her ice already though, and she the primal school of magic was the most difficult to control so therefore the best to practice with.
Running a hand through her hair and feeling a bit foolish but knowing she wanted to do it anyway, she pointed to a tree, a large oak in the middle of the courtyard and snapped her fingers.
Only for it to immediately burst into flames.
Loghain leaped up for a second, but she held up her other hand.
"Relax. It's fine," she assured him.
"It's on fire," he pointed out.
"Yes, I know."
"So, it's supposed to be on fire?" he asked incredulously. "Are you going to burn the whole thing down?"
"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Look at it, carefully. Are the leaves curling as they burn? Is the trunk blackening? Can you hear the crackling of sparks as it eats the wood?"
"No..." he said after a moment. "I don't. How is that?"
"Because it's not actually burning," she explained. "The flame is overlapping it, right on top but not catching. The trick is to maintain the fire without letting it destroy anything. It's an advanced technique, and not recommended if you think you can't make it work. Ice is safer. Even lightning is safer than fire. Sadly, fire is also the easiest to call forth. It's brought forth by intense anger, primal magic all wrapped up in your feelings. It's why when most children are found out to be mages, it's because they caught something on fire."
"So, why were you doing this last night?" he asked her casually. "Was something upsetting then?"
"Not... exactly," she admitted. "It was something else."
"What was it?"
He'd walked up on her without her noticing, feeling curious about how she was doing it. Her technique really was amazing. She had been learning this since she was a little child? No wonder she was so strong.
"It was... Loghain?" she asked him as he looked at the palm outstretched toward the tree. There was no flame in it, but it still seemed to glow a faint orange and red, as if she were holding the flame in her own hand. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm just wondering how you can do this. Control something so dangerous so easily?" he stated. As his eyes bored into her, it suddenly felt much harder than it had a moment ago.
"We have... focuses when we train... as apprentices," she answered, making herself answer. Suddenly speaking was a little difficult. "We use different things. Candles, chants, poems. Anything we can put our energy on, eventually making ourselves the focus. It's... a bit... complicated."
"So, you never told me why you needed to do this last night," he reminded her gently. "Or is that too much, asking you questions right now? Is this uncomfortable? Should I stop?"
"No. Please don't..." she breathed before shaking her head. "I mean, no. The point is to maintain. I can handle a little distraction."
"So what was it?" he repeated. "Did something happen last night?"
"No. I just... was distracted a bit. It seemed a good idea to just... do it. Just in case," she explained.
She didn't seem to want to explain exactly why she'd needed it. Perhaps asking her right now while she was trying to concentrate wasn't a good idea. The mage no doubt needed to focus.
Looking down at her palm again, he felt a little amazed by the power she could control with it. Something like this was entirely out of his reach, yet she'd lived with it as a part of her for her entire life. Without even thinking about it, he reached out for her and touched her hand, wondering just how much of that heat she was carrying in her hands.
The second he touched her though, she gasped loudly and yanked it away. Her other hand waved over the tree quickly, the fire vanishing immediately.
"I'm sorry! I didn't expect that!" she cried as she pulled away away from him.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his concern clear. "I'm sorry, it was my fault. I didn't even think about what I was doing. Are you hurt? Did you burn yourself?"
"No. No I'm fine," she assured him, her face flushed. "I banished the fire before I lost control, so no worries."
"Did my touching you make you lose control?" he asked. "Really?"
"Oh, no," she answered. "I'm not that easy to disrupt. A little touch isn't a problem. I just didn't expect it. It's fine. No worries."
"If you're sure..."
"I am," she insisted. "I think that ends the lesson though. Why don't we do something a little less dangerous to the foliage though? I have a chess set. Would you fancy a game?"
"Sure. That sounds good," he said before he went inside.
Solona nervously watched him go back inside before groaning and rubbing her hands over her face. Maker, that had been close. If he had noticed... Solona didn't even want to think about that.
She peaked between her fingers and looked at the leaves of the tree, almost all of them smoldering and giving off faint wisps of smoke. She hadn't caught it quite in time. The second he'd touched her, the spell had snapped out of her influence, as easily as breaking a thread. It was only her quick thinking that had kept the whole thing going down in an inferno.
It took her a moment or two to steady her breathing before going back in, feeling terribly hot under her clothes now. In her mind, she'd agreed to this whole scheme because she'd wanted him close by. She'd wanted to try to make him care for her, to seduce him and pull him to her bed.
Yet here she was, getting flustered whenever he moved close or touched her.
Solona Amell, Circle Mage, Grey Warden, Commander of the Grey and Hero of Ferelden had never once had a problem with temptation or keeping her powers under wraps. Demons' whispers of power meant nothing to her, yet he could give her one intense gaze and she crumbled.
Loghain was temptation in every way, and even as it was proven to her just how much trouble giving in could be, she still wanted to so badly.
End of Chapter 3
Oh Solona, you naughty girl. Granted, I think I'd get pretty hot and bothered with him so close to. He really had no idea the effect he has on her, but he's about to learn soon enough.
Also, I really enjoy writing Alistair and Anora bickering at one another. Which is weird because I enjoy Alistair as a nice guy. Yet when I harden him and marry him to Anora I can't help but think their relationship would be very intense, especially if Loghain is still kicking. The fact Anora has a tendency to do what's best for herself and just expects everyone to accept that, whether they're part of the injured party or not doesn't exactly help and Alistair does nothing if not speak his mind.
As always, my lovelies, please review. I'm a total whore for those opinions.