Nathaniel woke slowly as the early morning light filtered in through a gap in the window curtains. Eyes closed, he hugged the soft pillow in his arms, snuggling against it. It wasn't until the "pillow" murmured a few unintelligible words in its sleep that Nathaniel remembered it was actually Anders he was holding in his arms.
Still half-asleep, he slowly opened his eyes to see a mass of blond hair, slightly tangled from sleep. Anders' head was still resting on Nathaniel's chest and the look of peace on the mage's face was enough to take Nathaniel's breath away. Anders looked so innocent in sleep; the small creases that sometimes lined his face when he frowned were smooth now, and he looked utterly content.
Carefully, so as not to wake him, Nathaniel reached up and touched Anders' hair lightly, tugging a stray lock away from his cheek.
Before Nathaniel had a chance to take his hand away, Anders nuzzled his cheek against it. Nathaniel ran his thumb over Anders' cheekbone, tracing it lightly. Unable to resist, he leaned forward and kissed Anders' brow.
A slight rustle of the sheets indicated that the kiss had not gone unnoticed. As he drew back, he saw Anders blinking up at him, a sleepy look on his face.
Anders rubbed blearily at his eyes. "What time of the day do you call this, then?"
Nathaniel lips twitched into a wry smile. "Dawn."
"Why in the Maker's name are we waking up at dawn when there's no darkspawn to kill?" Anders grumped.
"I always get up at this time of day," Nathaniel answered.
Anders frowned a little before closing his eyes and burrowing against Nathaniel. "Well, wake me up when it's a more decent hour—like noon."
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "Some of us have better things to do than laze about in bed."
"Sometimes being lazy is good," Anders said, looking back up at Nathaniel. He reached up and caressed Nathaniel's cheek, mimicking Nathaniel's own gesture. "Did you sleep all right?" he asked, apparently resigned to being awake.
Nathaniel nodded. "Better than I would have thought." He had had no nightmares; not about darkspawn . . . nor about his father. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly and easily. "What about you?" he asked.
Anders wrapped his arm around Nathaniel's waist and snuggled against him again. "Perfectly. I was having the most lovely dream."
Nathaniel smiled. "Really? What about?"
Anders smiled enigmatically. "Doesn't matter . . ."
Nathaniel chuckled softly. "Well, so long as it was a good dream . . ."
Anders' smile softened as he nuzzled against Nathaniel's neck. "I love the way you smell," he murmured. "Like a forest. With leather in it."
Nathaniel was reminded of the previous day and grimaced. "Given our activities recently, I likely smell more like a sweaty pig than a forest. I should probably take a bath."
"Mind if I join you?" Anders asked, a playful smile curving his lips as he looked up at Nathaniel.
Nathaniel hesitated for a moment. Communal bathing was quite common amongst the Wardens; when you were traveling for days on end and finally encountered a body of water, the last thing you were worried about was modesty. Getting the grime and dust and darkspawn blood off was far more important, and if that meant sharing a river with a few other men and a belching dwarf, it was a small price to pay. Even at Vigil's Keep, bathing with others was not unheard of. The baths were quite large, big enough to fit half a dozen men, and it was much easier to use the same one at the same time than wait around until it became unoccupied.
This was different, though. Nathaniel knew that this would not just be two fellow Wardens sharing a bathing tub. This would be Nathaniel and Anders bathing together. Together. Perhaps even bathing each other. The thought made Nathaniel smile. "I'd like that very much," he finally said.
Anders' smile widened as he sat up and climbed over Nathaniel to reach the edge of the bed. "Let's go—the sooner I get to see you naked, the better." He looked back and apparently noticed Nathaniel's hesitation. The look that Anders gave him was soft and perhaps a little rueful.
"We don't have to go down to the baths together. I'll head down first and get the water ready, and you can meet me there in a few minutes."
Nathaniel gave him a grateful smile. He wasn't ashamed of being seen in the presence of Anders, but he wasn't quite ready to be seen going down to the baths together. Even if it had been for perfectly innocent reasons, there could still be some teasing and innuendo from Oghren or Sigrun. Something that he was not at all ready to face. Telling his story to Anders had actually helped soothe his wounds, much to his surprise, but he knew life was not as easy as that. The guilt and shame he had carried with him would not be banished so easily.
Anders leaned over to give him one last kiss before standing up and heading for the door. He turned back at the last moment and winked at Nathaniel before slipping out of the room.
Nathaniel chuckled as he climbed out of bed. How was it that he could go from being absolutely miserable last night to feeling so happy this morning? The weight hadn't been lifted from him completely, but it felt lighter—and it was because of Anders, he knew. Anders, the one who refused to give up on him, and who would not let him wallow in misery. Anders had known how badly Nathaniel needed to talk about what had happened to him all those years ago, and had refused to let Nathaniel continue to push him away.
Nathaniel was incredibly grateful that Anders had listened to Nathaniel without comment, and without judgment. He had listened, and been empathetic, and that meant the world to Nathaniel. Even knowing that Anders was clearly attracted to men as well as women there was a part of him deep down that had feared Anders would be repulsed by what had happened. Repulsion was the reaction he was used to, after all.
Instead, Anders had been angry. Not at Nathaniel, but at Rendon. Nathaniel actually wished he could call forth that much anger for his father, but he could not. Rendon Howe had still been his father, and while it might have been easier to hate him, instead he carried around the overwhelming feelings of guilt and failure. Feelings that were starting to abate just the smallest bit due to Anders.
He took a few moments to make his bed, straightening the pillows, pulling the covers up, smoothing out the lumps. When he finished, he sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the item he had carelessly tossed there the night before: the necklace he had taken from Bann Esmerelle's body.
It was a gold locket, with a delicate rose etched on the lid. He slid his blunt thumbnail between the two pieces of the locket and carefully levered it open. Inside was a tiny lock of hair. He could tell from the light now shining fully into the room that the hair was silvery-gray. He wondered idly if it was his father's. Possibly. The last time he had seen this necklace was years ago, around his mother's slender neck. By rights it should have gone to Delilah after their mother's death; it would seem that his father deemed it more appropriate to pass it on to one of his lackeys instead.
Nathaniel snapped the locket shut and ran his calloused thumb over the etched ridges of the rose. He had never been particularly close to his mother, but this was a piece of her. A piece of his family. Things such as this—and the vase that Anders had found for him—were the reason why Nathaniel had been reluctant to leave the Keep after he had decided not to kill Gideon.
Nathaniel Howe was many things, but he was not a murderer. When it came time to actually commit murder against Gideon, he had known he couldn't do it. Gideon had been his friend once, and he was Fergus' younger brother. Nathaniel's hatred and rage for his father's murderer could not overcome those two blinding facts.
He had vowed not to go away empty-handed, though. If he could only collect his family's belongings, their most cherished items, perhaps that would help ease the pain that had settled into his heart upon hearing of his father's death. His family had been honorable once; they had been great heroes who had repeatedly aided Ferelden during times of war. His own father had been a hero, years ago. Nathaniel might not have been able to kill Gideon, but he was damned if he would let the man have his family's prized possessions.
He hadn't any real idea of things he had wanted to take with him that day, though he had certainly wanted to find his grandfather's bow. He had simply stolen into the Keep and looked around, letting the memories of his past wash over him. When the Wardens found him sneaking through the Keep in the middle of the night, they did not take very kindly to it. Nathaniel fought, and was quite proud that it took four of the Orlesian bastards to take him down. He had expected to die for his crimes, and had been shocked—and a little angry—when Gideon refused to send him to the gallows.
He had deeply resented Gideon for forcing Nathaniel to go through the Joining, even before he had known all of the side effects that such a ritual would incur. Many years ago, one of Nathaniel's relatives had left the family to join the Grey Wardens. He'd never been heard from again. Rendon loved to pull that story out during his rants on loyalty and obedience. Padric Howe had abandoned his family by joining the Grey Wardens, had abandoned his duties. A terribly dishonorable thing for a Howe to do.
Thinking about it now, Nathaniel suspected that Padric had likely died during his Joining, never becoming a full Warden. A terrible loss. He wondered how many men and women had died from the Joining over the years, how many sacrifices had been made. He knew that, as much as he disliked the idea, it was ultimately worth it. No matter how many lives had been lost, each and every Joining was important. Grey Wardens truly were the only ones who could stop the Blight. Many people believed that was just a fairy tale, an idea put out by the Wardens themselves to make them seem more necessary than they really were. The fifth Blight had changed all of that.
Being a Warden was something Nathaniel could be proud of. It gave him purpose, and a chance to prove himself. His father may not have known the meaning of the word nobility but Nathaniel did. He knew that he had no choice about being a Grey Warden, but he was still proud to be one. He had a chance to help people here, to right wrongs. He knew, without a doubt, that this was where he belonged. Vigil's Keep had been a home to him as a child, and it was home to him once more as an adult.
With care, he placed the necklace into a drawer before heading downstairs. He ran into Sigrun on his way down to the baths in the lowest level of the Keep, and she bade him a cheerful good morning in passing; he ran into no one else along the way and was able to slip into the baths apparently unnoticed.
Anders was there, waiting for him. Not, as Nathaniel had assumed, already undressed and lying in the hot bath he had drawn, but sitting on a bench, still fully clothed. As Nathaniel closed and locked the door behind him, Anders stood and walked over to him.
"Took you long enough," Anders teased.
Nathaniel's lips quirked into a smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
Anders shrugged, smiling. "I'll forgive you. This time." He reached out towards Nathaniel's shirt. Nathaniel stood still as Anders began undoing the buttons, watching the brow above those warm chocolate eyes furrow in concentration as he worried at the last one.
Finally Anders got the button free and dragged Nathaniel's shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. He reached for the laces on Nathaniel's breeches, but Nathaniel caught his wrist gently.
"I'll do it." It felt strange, pulling off his breeches and smallclothes as Anders stood there and watched. He straightened back up, feeling self-conscious as Anders' eyes roamed over Nathaniel's nude body.
"You really are gorgeous," Anders murmured, catching Nathaniel off guard. He wasn't used to other people complimenting him on his appearance. Not that he really minded the lack of compliments; the clothes he wore were meant for comfort and function, rather than to be fashionable or impress others. His hair was his only vanity, and while he gave it special care and attention, it was still styled in a manner that was practical rather than ostentatious.
Nathaniel had never considered himself unattractive, but he didn't consider himself to be remarkably handsome either. In truth, he didn't consider his looks much at all. It was a surprise to hear Anders express such appreciation for his appearance, and flattering as well.
He wanted to be able to return the favor. "Are you planning on bathing fully clothed?"
Anders laughed. "Not at all, but I figured I'd wait until you got here, give you a little show." The boots came off first, Anders placing his hand on Nathaniel's shoulder momentarily to keep his balance as he tugged them off. Then he unfastened the thick belt around his waist and cast it aside to fall on top of Nathaniel's discarded clothes. Unbound by the belt, his robes hung loose; he grasped the hem and slowly tugged them up over his head. Unsurprisingly, he was not wearing any smallclothes.
"You are the one who is gorgeous," Nathaniel breathed, taking in the sight of Anders. Those precious seconds when Nathaniel had accidentally seen Anders naked in Amaranthine hadn't been long enough to give a good view of what Anders' body looked like unclothed, and now Nathaniel's eyes wandered hungrily over every inch, taking in the full beauty of him.
Anders' skin was slightly tanned, the color of golden honey. A smattering of baby-fine hair dusted his arms and chest, leading down to a mass of golden curls covering his groin. Anders was lean, but muscular—more muscular than Nathaniel would have expected a mage to be, in fact. He was tall and thin, and while that might cause another man to look scrawny, it suited Anders perfectly. He was, in short, the most handsome man Nathaniel had ever seen.
Nathaniel reached out and ran his fingers over Anders' chest, marveling at the smoothness of his skin. Anders caught up Nathaniel's hand and smiled. "You can touch me all you like, after we get into the bath." Still holding Nathaniel's hand, Anders turned and stepped down into the large tub, drawing Nathaniel with him.
Nathaniel settled into the blissfully hot water with a sigh of pleasure. Between the Wending Wood and the silverite mine, there had been little time for cleaning up. The best he had been able to manage was a cloth wetted with water to wipe the grime and darkspawn blood from his face and arms occasionally. A hot bath felt like the Golden City itself. He rested his back against the edge of the tub, pleased when Anders settled next to him rather than across from him as he had expected. He closed his eyes, head tilting back as he relished the feeling of being submerged in the hot water.
He felt Anders press against his shoulder and he opened his eyes to see Anders reaching across him to grab the soap sitting on the edge of the bath. He watched as Anders lathered up his hands before reaching out and running them over Nathaniel's chest. Nathaniel's breath hitched as Anders gently caressed his skin, turning the simple act of bathing into something much more sensual.
Anders smiled at Nathaniel. "You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about doing this."
Nathaniel's brow arched. "Oh, really?"
Anders nodded. He shifted so that he was straddling Nathaniel's lap, keeping plenty of space between their groins. Anders used his hands to scrub at Nathaniel's shoulders and arms before moving back to his chest. "Lathering you up with soap . . . getting to touch every inch of you . . . and then, after we're done, watching all that water slide over your gorgeous muscles as you climb up out of the tub. I'm definitely looking forward to that part."
Nathaniel smirked. "I don't see you rushing through this to get to that much anticipated moment."
"I can be very patient when I want to be," Anders said lightly. "And it isn't as if I'm not enjoying this part, too." His hands slowly trailed lower and he ran one slender finger around the rim of Nathaniel's navel. Nathaniel's whole body shivered and he could feel himself stirring a little. It had been a long time since anyone had done this with him—slowly and lazily exploring his body, with no real goal but to give pleasure.
Nathaniel reached up and tugged at the leather strap that bound Anders' hair in a ponytail, admiring the silky blond tresses as they fell loose over Anders' shoulders. He ran his fingers through that soft mane and pulled Anders close for a slow exploratory kiss. Anders responded lazily but eagerly, his tongue darting against Nathaniel's lips. Emboldened, Nathaniel kissed him deeper, his tongue thrusting hungrily into Anders' mouth. When he felt the hand on his half-hard cock, he did not flinch away; instead, he wrapped his arms around Anders' waist and pulled him closer.
He was stiffening in Anders' hand, and when Anders rubbed his thumb over the tip of Nathaniel's cock, Nathaniel actually let out a small groan of pleasure. This seemed to spur Anders on, and he tightened his grip on Nathaniel's length, giving it one long, slow stroke. One of Nathaniel's hands wandered down to Anders' backside and gripped it firmly. Anders' breath hitched and he flexed his muscles beneath Nathaniel's hand, compelling Nathaniel to grip harder.
They were pressed close together now, chest to chest, bare flesh radiating heat from the bath and from their own desire. Not letting himself think about it too much, letting his instincts guide him rather than his mind, he released his grip on Anders' arse and reached between them, brushing his fingers lightly over Anders' length.
The reaction was immediate. Anders moaned lowly with pleasure and bit hard at Nathaniel's lip. Anders' hand quickened its pace and he was now stroking Nathaniel faster and more firmly. Nathaniel closed his fingers around Anders' length and returned the favor, though he was still a bit tentative—it had been so long since he had touched another man's body like this. It came to him easily enough, though, given the fact that he had done this to himself plenty of times. It was different, certainly—what he liked might not necessarily be what Anders liked. He varied his style, trying to see what pulled the most delicious sounds from Anders, relishing every hitch of breath, each quiet moan.
Soon their noises of pleasure were mixing together into a rough medley of physical pleasure. They had to break their frantic kisses off frequently to gasp for air, but every time their lips met again easily. It took a bit of trial and error on Nathaniel's part, but soon their hands were moving together in perfect harmony. Nathaniel's arm was back around Anders' waist and he was holding the man as close to him as was physically possible. Each of them was rocking his hips into the other's hand, desperate for more.
It was Anders who broke first: he tossed his head back and cried out Nathaniel's name, eyes squeezed tight with pleasure. Nathaniel continued stroking him through his orgasm until Anders was completely spent. Anders slumped against him, fighting to get his breath back. He only allowed himself a few moments to bask in the bliss of his release before he began stroking Nathaniel again, this time faster and more urgently.
Nathaniel was helpless against Anders' talented hand and soon he was coming, face buried against Anders' neck as he groaned with pleasure. He could feel his cock pulsing with his own release, Anders' hand firmly around it. Nathaniel allowed himself a rare moment free of control as he rode the waves of his orgasm, basking in the sensation as white lights burst behind his closed eyes. He could not remember ever coming this hard before in his life.
The two men lay there together, relaxed against each other and trying to catch their breath. Anders' head was resting on Nathaniel's shoulder and he nuzzled at Nathaniel's neck, kissing him lightly.
"Either you're more experienced than you let on, or you have a natural talent for giving pleasure," Anders murmured.
Nathaniel chuckled. "I am not the sort of person to kiss and tell," he said, somewhat evasively. He ran his hand gently up and down Anders' back, relishing the nearness and warmth of him.
Anders tilted his head up to look at Nathaniel questioningly. "That wasn't a very straight-forward answer."
"I didn't realize there was a question."
Anders studied Nathaniel for a few moments before shaking his head. "Never mind; it's probably not any of my business. I've pried more than enough the last couple of days."
"What do you want to know, Anders?" Nathaniel asked softly. "I'll try to answer what I can. It's—it's nice having someone I can confide in." He smiled down at Anders a little hesitantly.
Anders returned the smile. "I suppose I was just wondering how much sex you've actually had."
Nathaniel had been expecting the question, but it still made him a little uncomfortable talking about something so intimate. "I've only ever been with two men: Fergus and Tarbin, the soldier I . . . consoled myself with after finding out about Fergus."
"Have you been with any women?" Anders asked curiously.
"One," Nathaniel said. "While I was in the Free Marches. To make sure that I could. It . . . wasn't as bad as I'd feared it would be, but it wasn't as enjoyable as I'd hoped."
Anders' arms wrapped around Nathaniel's torso and hugged him tight. "You were trying to make yourself be something you weren't."
Nathaniel shrugged. "I was trying to do my duty, I suppose. I was still my father's heir, no matter how much I'd angered him. I was determined to get back into his good graces, and to prove to him that I was a son he could be proud of. So I tried to change who I was. I thought perhaps I could grow to prefer the company of women."
"It didn't work like that, though—did it?" Anders asked.
"No," Nathaniel admitted. "She was the daughter of a prominent nobleman in Ostwick; she had been pursuing me for quite some time, and one night, after a party where we'd had a bit too much to drink, she made an outright advance."
He had planned on turning her down gently, as he had done with other women on previous occasions, but the wine had been flowing freely that night, and she was an attractive woman—even Nathaniel could see that, though he felt no real attraction to her himself. Her boldness was admirable, and her confidence made it easier for Nathaniel to accept her advances.
"Rather than turn her away, I welcomed her, determined to prove to myself and my father that I could be normal. It was awkward, though; terribly, terribly awkward."
"I bet it was," Anders said. "It's not exactly something you can force yourself to like."
"No, it's not," Nathaniel agreed. "It was foolish of me to think otherwise. I thought that it was perhaps something inherent in being a man: that I would find a woman's touch pleasurable. I'd never tried it before, you see. So I didn't actually know for sure."
"You said you never found women attractive, though," Anders pointed out. "That should have been a dead giveaway right there."
Nathaniel couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Very true. I wasn't even sure that I could . . . perform, if you understand me."
He could feel Anders' stubbled cheek brushing against Nathaniel's shoulder as he nodded his head. "I get what you mean."
"I was successful in that sense, at least, and it was easier than I'd feared it would be. It helped that she was very pretty, and she smiled quite nice. She had a beautiful smile . . ." He trailed off, not feeling right going into details with Anders curled in his arms. "We managed well enough. It wasn't satisfying to me, though. She seemed to enjoy herself, for which I was extremely grateful. I would have felt horrible if I hadn't been able to give her pleasure. I don't know if she realized it felt wrong to me or not; as I said, we'd both had a lot to drink, so it's possible she didn't notice. I hope she didn't."
"And that's the only time you've ever been with a woman?" Anders asked.
Nathaniel shook his head. "No. I bedded her again a few weeks later. I wanted to make sure that one time wasn't a fluke, and that I could perform even when I wasn't drunk. It was less awkward, but no more pleasurable. That was when I finally realized that no matter how hard I tried, I would never truly be interested in women."
"So you knew you didn't fancy women, and you refused to let yourself be with men . . . did you just plan on being abstinent for the rest of your life?" Anders asked. "Did you really think you could manage something like that?"
Nathaniel frowned a little. "Sex isn't everything, Anders." He sighed. "Like I said, I knew I'd have to take a wife eventually; and at least I knew for certain that I'd be able to bed her, and father a child. After that, well, perhaps I could have persuaded her to take a lover. The type of woman who would want to marry me would do so for the power that comes with being an arlessa; being attracted to the man she was marrying would likely be inconsequential to her. It's quite common for nobles to take lovers—just look at my father and Bann Esmerelle. I'm quite sure their affair began long before my mother passed away. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if my mother had had a lover of her own—my parents despised each other."
"I'm not saying sex is everything," Anders argued gently, "but intimacy is important. Being close with someone, sharing your body with them—it's such an amazing feeling." He laughed mischievously. "This bath should be proof enough of that."
Nathaniel's lips curved into a smile. "Being with you does feel good. A big part of that, though, is the fact that I care about you. I think that makes all the difference. Regardless of whether I fancied women or men, I don't think I would ever be the type to have casual affairs."
Anders turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on Nathaniel's shoulder. "I know you're not, and I don't mind. You and I are different when it comes to our ideas of sex and intimacy, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. We balance each other out."
Nathaniel smiled wryly. "You'll teach me how to enjoy sex and I'll teach you how to be in a relationship, is that it?" He felt Anders stiffen in his arms and realized that he had said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry," he said hastily, "I didn't mean to insinuate—"
"Sounds like a fair trade to me," he said softly, surprising Nathaniel. He picked his head up and looked at Nathaniel. "I can't say I'm the best catch out there, and I have no idea how to be in any sort of relationship that lasts longer than five minutes. But . . . I think maybe for you I could try."
"To be with me?" Nathaniel asked, wanting to make sure he was understanding. "You want to be in a relationship with me?"
Anders took a deep breath before nodding. "I make no guarantees that I'll be any good at it, but yes—I want to be with you." His eyes flicked away. "I'm nervous as hell about it, though. I don't want to hurt you."
Nathaniel ran his hands reassuringly along Anders' back. "Maybe you will. Or maybe I'll hurt you; I think that's a risk everyone takes when they get into a relationship. You don't have to make any promises to me if you don't want to. I won't demand any sort of commitment from you. We can just take each day as it comes." It pained him a little to say that. Now that he was starting to accept himself a little, and to realize that he no longer wanted to push Anders away, it was difficult for him to not ask for a commitment. He couldn't do that, though. He didn't want to scare Anders off, and he knew that if he pushed for more than the mage was willing to give, Anders would slip out of his hold.
Anders smiled at him gratefully, confirming his suspicions. "I can do that." He settled back against Nathaniel, his body relaxed once more. "So long as I get to spend those days with such a sexy, handsome man like you, I don't mind taking them one at a time at all."
Nathaniel snorted at that. "I don't know if I would go so far as to say such things about me."
"You might not," Anders said, "but I will. You're the most attractive person I've ever been with, believe me."
Nathaniel looked at him a bit skeptically. "I'm more attractive than anyone you've been with?"
Anders laughed. "Don't look so pessimistic. You're very attractive, Nathaniel; don't ever doubt that." He leaned in and kissed Nathaniel softly. "I happen to have a huge weakness for masculine men, which you most certainly are. You're masculine without being macho. You're rugged, and handsome; you're strong and brave, and noble. . ." He picked his head up and smiled at Nathaniel. "I could go on like this for days, if you'd like."
Nathaniel shook his head, smiling a little. "You don't have to do that." He wasn't sure he entirely believed Anders, but he wasn't going to argue.
He leaned in and kissed Anders, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. "We should probably clean up. Again."
"Mmm, I suppose so," Anders said, clearly reluctant. He slid off of Nathaniel's lap and grabbed the soap. "I'll scrub your back if you scrub mine?" He winked at Nathaniel, an impish smile on his face.
Nathaniel chuckled as he took the soap from Anders' hand. "I suppose I can do that."