Armed men marched in unison, a display of discipline and military prowess. One, two, three, turn, every move was calculated and well practiced. Cauthrien had beaten the routine into their skulls. Perfection was not desired; it was mandatory. King Cailan had come for a visit, with the purpose of inspecting Loghain Mac Tir's elite forces, Maric's Shield. Nothing but the absolute pinnacle of impeccability would be acceptable. One false move, one inappropriate sneeze or cough and the perpetrator would find themselves punished. All in the unit knew this. When it came to putting on a fine face for Loghain and the King, Cauthrien was nothing if not resolute in her duties.
And indeed, the King was quite impressed with the display. Cauthrien had been forewarned that Cailan liked the flashy and fancy. A boy playing at being King... It was such a show that was put on for his Highness. High gloss armor, overly exaggerated moves, loud sounds, every little trick she could pull out of the book was employed. He was overcome with joy and amazement at the awe-inspiring presentation.
Dinner was special that evening; the King would dine amongst the common soldiers, a show of his confidence in their abilities as well as boost his own vision of self-worth.
Loghain, Cauthrien and two others high ranking officers shared a table with the King, but it was Cauthrien that he doted most of his attentions upon. A charming smile, a witty phrase, all were reserved for the dark haired lieutenant. Others did not go ignored, but always, his gaze returned to the lady at the table with a smile and a wink.
She played her part as she had thought it was written. Smile and laugh at the King's jokes. Be approachable, but not too much so. It was her job to make sure the King left happy and full of praise for the unit. She was nothing if not diligent in this pursuit.
And when the offer came to join the King for conversation and drinks in his chambers at the end of the evening, she delicately declined.
An early morning, your Majesty, I am afraid. Duty calls.
She had not forgotten the King's Queen or that the Queen was Loghain's daughter. She had not forgotten Loghain. It was an excuse and nothing more, but delivered with just the right level of flirtatiousness as to leave the King with no doubt that had duty not intervened, she would have been his for the evening. The king's cup was to be half full rather than half empty.
Pleasantries were exchanged and everyone parted for the evening. And when she went back to her room, Cauthrien expected to receive her usual summons. Trips to Loghain's rooms had become more frequent. Day to day operations of the unit, letters to be delivered, orders to be bellowed, the excuses were many; the real reason, however, was singular. What started one evening atop a sturdy desk repeated two to three times a week at his beck and call.
Loghain has asked to see you, Ser.
It always meant the same thing and always brought the same sliver of a smile upon her lips. She wished to see him as well.
But never during these meetings did Loghain express his feelings in one direction or another for Cauthrien. There would be looks she would catch; thoughtful expressions tinged with the grey tint of pain or a brilliant light dancing crisp within the blue of his eyes. Always, these were but glimmers, phantom visions she could never be quite sure she saw or simply hoped she did see. Still, his call never went unheeded. What morsels of attention he offered her, she happily accepted. She was a woman that knew what she wanted and when presented with the opportunity to fill her cup to the brim, she did not hesitate to raise her glass and ask for more.
In his arms she felt safe and powerful. This was the Hero of the River Dane and he showed interest in her, a small girl from a farm in the Bannorn. And though he may never have said what he felt for her, she found it really did not matter. She would happily be his convenience. His choosing her was enough for now.
But the summons did not arrive. She waited, sitting on the edge of her bed expectant of a knock that never came. Eventually, she gave up, changed into her cottom shift and pulled herself into bed. Sleep came slow but took its hold upon her, consciousness drifting in a pool of disappointment.
~**~
An uncomfortable feeling rattled Cauthrien from her slumber. Senses fired off the alarm. Another was in her room; the heavy pull of eyes upon her. She jolted awake, sitting upright quickly. Reflexively, she reached beneath a pillow for the dagger she always kept hidden. But before she could retrieve the weapon, a hand wrapped about her wrist, stopping her quest.
He was sitting on her bed, a looming figure ensconced in shadow. Loghain. The adrenaline coursing rapid through her body ceased its flow. She relaxed under his firm grasp; fingers abandoned their search. He had surprised her. Never had she expected him to visit her let alone wake her in such a manner. Curiosity overtook her expression. A question of sorts beckoned from her lips, "Your Grace?"
His response was physical. His hands found new target in her face, cupping it in possessive draw as he pulled it towards his own in a voracious kiss. There are worse ways to be woken up, she thought, her mouth responding eagerly to Loghain's.
The full weight of his body was pushed into hers as he leaned in; both bodies forced to lie upon the bed. Hands moved, their next target territory previously claimed – her wrists. No resistance given, all too eager to comply, Cauthrien allowed both hands to be caught in grabby grasp of a single hand and raised above her head, pinned.
His mouth tore from hers, teeth scraping against tender flesh in retreat. Desperation pushed Cauthrien's head up seeking to continue the feasting. She struggled against the bonds of his clutch, unsuccessful. Glacial blue stared down at her. No comments uttered. No smiles formed.
The tear of fabric cut through the air, Cauthrien's under clothes dispatched by Loghain's free hand. She could feel his hand move against his own clothing, pants undone just enough. Her legs nudged apart. His intentions were quite obvious. Her cooperation was given willingly.
Loghain had never been one for tenderness in the past. This time was no different. Rough and determined, he laid his claim. Slow and deliberate moves changed quickly into a frenzy of thrusts, pushing her hips into the mattress with such force she felt as though she would rip though.
She tried to be silent, to muffle her cries. She turned her head, seeking to dampen the keening in the crook of an arm. She felt Loghain's hand rake coarsely from her side to her face, turning her to look to him once again. "Look at me," he rasped hoarsely. No, there was to be no hiding away.
Her teeth bit at her lower lip, a last ditch effort to silence herself. A whimper of a moan bellowed behind her bruised mouth. And just as she thought she could not take it one moment longer, that the gates would burst in ragged scream, Loghain's own cry burst forth, his body tensed, his assault ceased. A shudder passed, his hold upon her wrists tightening then weakening. He collapsed, slick with sweat, heavy with breath.
Pain radiated from her wrists and arms as she moved them to embrace Loghain. She would be marked from his attentions. She knew this. But the thought of those marks, his marks, upon her skin brought a small smile upon the contours of her tooth raked lips.
Moments passed as they lay there silently. There were so many things Cauthrien would have loved to say. Nerves and a desire to make the moment last as long as possible kept her quiet. Instead, she soaked in the comfort and heat of his closeness – another scrap thrown and swallowed down ravenously.
Stillness found interruption, "I should go," he murmured, disengaging himself from Cauthrien. "I….I should not have come here."
The coolness of the room tickled at Cauthrien's exposed skin in bristle as Loghain moved away and edged to sit on the end of the bed. Her brows knitted, confused. Jelly-like limbs pushed slowly into the bed, lifting her shakily into a seated position at his side. Muscles had already begun to ache. Fingers trembled in extension; a hand pressed light into Loghain's back. "Stay." She had never asked him for anything; never once had she conveyed to him how she felt. But for some reason, in this moment, the invitation drifted easy from her lips. Too long it had been restrained.
The gentle nature of her touch brought tension momentarily to Loghain's posture. "I have done you wrong, Cauthrien. I have been inappropriate." He turned at the waist, shifting just enough so that their eyes might meet in somber gaze. The caress that sought her cheek was soft. "You very much remind me of someone…"
She leaned into his hand, craving the affection offered. "You have done nothing but right by me, my…" Another obstacle climbed over. "...Loghain." She had earned the right to call him by his name. "You have made me very happy. You should know that." Her hands took his in hers and brought it to upward. Lips brushed light against flesh in kiss and speech, "Please stay." She wanted to sleep with his warmth at her back and wake with his arms about her.
Impassively, Loghain stared down at her. She could usually tell what he might do. It was a skill she honed over time through careful study of his actions and responses to others. She could hope he would stay, but for once, she did not know what he would do. And when he spoke, her answer came. "I will stay." And her heart leaped – a battle won. "You must promise me one thing."
Without hesitation, her head fell in quick nod. "Anything." What was hers was his. He had but to ask.
"Never flirt with a Theirin again."