Standard Disclaimer: Bioware owns all Dragon Age characters and in game content. I own the bits that are left.

Author's Note: This is one of those chapters that earn this story its M rating. Consider yourself warned.

Chapter 6 – The Mage and Her Templar

The Ferelden II was in no way a very small ship with main, fore and mizzen masts but it was not so huge that a person could not be found after a week of sailing. For the past week, Greagoir had been waiting to catch Ines alone to speak with her. However, she always was busy with Neria, speaking with Irving, Wynne, Cedric or anyone else but him or simply not on deck. He would have thought that she was hiding from him if the thought that plucky Ines hiding from anything did not seem so absurd. Frustrated at the lack of progress in finding her alone, he closed his eyes and sought to rest, his thoughts still actively swirling around her.

When Remille had proposed Ines' promotion at a tender age of twenty three, no one had opposed due to her length of stay and many contributions to the Circle. She had been brought in at a tender age of three and had taken to the Circle like a fish to water, studiously working her way through classes, making friends and attending Chantry sessions.

They never had any trouble from her. She never missed curfew, never flouted any of the rules and never engaged in superfluous affairs with other mages, not that she had not been propositioned. She had just always been more loving and tender towards her plants and the strays she picked up when she went on hunts with templars to help them with the more dangerous apostates. She had been the perfect example of a Circle mage if not for her acerbic tongue that did not spare anyone when she suspected they were not honest with her or when she deemed them to have hidden motives befriending with her. She had few friends but no enemies and all the young apprentices all loved her.

It had been to her great displeasure when she discovered she did not have enough aptitude in Creation spells to even heal a paper cut and, thus, had thrown herself into Herbalism with fervour. Eventually, her potions became the most potent anyone has ever drunk. Some even claiming to have seen dying men returned to life through them. She even managed to create antidotes to some of the more deathly poisons found on Thedas. To continue her research, she managed to convince First Enchanter Remille and Knight-Commander Conand to allow the building of a greenhouse to store her precious plants and a small set of stalls to house her strays; cats, birds, a limp horse and a blind mabari. She cultivated the plants with more love than she showed anyone in the Circle and the apprentices often joked about her talking to them like children as she tended to them.

It had been an unfortunate incident that first made him notice her more candidly. A defiant shriek that he eventually traced to the basement had made him pause from his nightly patrol around the apprentice quarters. He came upon Ines hunching over a broken, bleeding body, snarling viciously at a trio of templars. The deviants were partially undressed from waist down and mocking her efforts to rescue her friend. She had looked flushed and dazed and Greagoir realised they had used Holy Smite on her. He unceremoniously smashed the pommel of his long sword on the heads of two closest to the stairway before the third had raised startled eyes at him. "Knight-Captain… They were escaping curfew."

"That's a lie!" Ines screeched indignantly. "I woke up to see them taking Beatrice from our room. I didn't dare to confront all three of them and ran to get First Enchanter Remille but he was not in his room. Knight-Commander Conand has still not returned from Denerim. I lost their trail…" She wept brokenly, hands pressing down on the bleeding wounds of her friend. "I couldn't find them anywhere until now. I should have stopped them straightaway. Oh… Beatrice… I should have come for you straightaway." Her cries had ignited Greagoir's fury and he smashed the remaining templar's face with his gauntleted fist when he finally realised the amount of damage done to the beaten enchanter. He helped to carry the injured enchanter to the infirmary, with Ines trailing behind him, thanking him repeatedly.

Once they were in the infirmary, Ines had transformed into a tornado of action, rushing around to find water, cloths, bandages and potions to clean and heal Beatrice. He went to wake Wynne to aid the young herbalist and left to take care of the stains to the templar order. The three templars were dismissed from service after he reported their actions to Knight-Commander Conand but not before he had thoroughly crushed each of them in one to one combat to appease his rage.

That fateful first meeting seemed to release a barrage of coincidental meetings they had with each other. Their hands would touch helping up young apprentices who had fallen down, picking up stray books left on the tables in the library and, sometimes, literally walking into each other in the miniature herb garden. It had been as if everywhere Greagoir turned, she was there, though when they finally shared their first kiss, it had been quite an accident.

Ines had been tasked to take over Beatrice's classes while she recuperated from her injuries. The only problem with the arrangement was that Beatrice taught Creation magic to the youngest apprentices. When Ines took over the class, she had been relieved to note that they were in the middle of learning to cast and control the Grease spell, one of the two spells in the entire Creation branch she was familiar with.

Half an hour later, she was not so grateful anymore. The entire section of the library where she had been teaching was slippery with grease and she had no idea how to get rid of it without burning down the entire library. I really should have paid more attention in Creation class even if I didn't have an aptitude for it. She sighed, knowing that she could only get rid of the mess through purely physical means. While not the most successful of lessons, at least all the apprentices are having a good time. She decided that it was futile to continue the class with everyone sliding helter-skelter and she really needed to clean up before the next class so she dismissed the class early, found a mop and a pail, and begun the tedious process of cleaning up the place.

Greagoir had been patrolling, walking into the section before Ines could shout a warning and, sliding on the grease, had fallen right on top of her. Their lips had met briefly before, blushing furiously, they had quickly attempted to move apart only to collapse onto each other again. This time, their legs had somehow become entangled and Greagoir had looked up to see Ines biting her full bottom lip in anxiety. What drove him to lower his lips to hers and she to respond, they would never know. However, by the end of their kiss, they were both covered with grease and breathless with want.

Regaining her senses when she heard apprentices approaching for the next lesson, Ines had scrambled away from him as quickly and carefully as she could. He had been so stunned by his own impetuous act that he had stayed to take up the mop and clean the floor, causing the young apprentices to giggle when they saw him performing such a domestic act. That night, he had kneed feverishly before the statue of Andraste begging for forgiveness until the early morning bell but could not forget the feel of Ines beneath him, her sweet lips yielding to his.

They had avoided each other after that but the Maker had a strange sense of humour. Greagoir had thought he would regain some peace when it was announced that First Enchanter Remille had picked Irving, Wynne and Ines to represent him in the next College of Magi to be held in Antiva this year. However, Knight-Commander Conand then informed him on that same night that he, Hadley and Bran was to accompany the senior enchanters to Antiva for their protection. Greagoir had groaned inwardly at the tests that the Maker was putting him through and went to pray for guidance from Andraste again. When he dusted himself off at the morning bell, he had been resolved to apologise to the young mage once they were alone on board the ship.

However, it seems that Ines had other ideas. There were only so many places to hide on the ship and Ines seemed to have found all of them. When her cabin proved to be too stifling due to Wynne's propensity to barf every time the sea was not calm, she would talk to the crew about the workings of the ship. Finally, after two weeks, he found her alone on deck admiring the stars. Approaching her tentatively, he was startled when her melodious voice whispered his name. "Greagoir…"

"How did you know it was me?" Greagoir questioned her, curious that she could identify him without turning around.

"You have a distinct clanging to your armour and you smell…" Ines started to explain.

"I do not smell! I bathe regularly even on this little tub of a ship." Greagoir loudly protested.

"I heard that!" Cedric called out from the helm, clearly insulted.

"I… err... Didn't mean it that way!" Greagoir hollered, flushed.

Ines giggled at that. Her laughter curled around his heart like a vine and tightened his loins in a strange but not unpleasant way.

"What are you sniggering at?" He had gruffly chided, extraordinarily annoyed to seem so awkward to her.

"You, of course." She turned around, eyes twinkling brighter than any star, smiling up at him. He silenced her the only way he could think of, by pressing his lips to hers.

Ines' tongue slipped out of her lips to inquisitively taste his. Surprised, he opened his mouth and she had entered, engaging his tongue with hers in a dance that further strained the growing bulge in his breeches. Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her, wildly caressing all the places he could reach. Her soft moans inflamed him and he was greatly tempted to take her right there on the deck without regard to the night watch.

In the end, footsteps jolted out them out of the haze of their desire to discover their clothes were very much in disarray. Three clasps had been unfastened at the top of Ines' robes baring her breasts, which had somehow escaped from her small clothes, to Greagoir. The purple skirt of his templar armour had risen to his waist and his breeches were nearly unfastened. Blushing furiously, Ines had tidied up herself hastily, escaping below deck without a word to him.

That night had been the first night in his whole life, he remembered taking himself in his hands, silently stroking himself to completion with the taste of her mouth, the feel and scent of her fresh in his mind. She had avoided him by staying below deck or hurriedly excusing herself to depart for her cabin whenever she saw him for the rest of the sea voyage.

Thinking his advances undesired, Greagoir strived to find her alone to express regret for his boorish behaviour but they were never alone on the ship. When they reached Antiva and the College of Magi had convened, Ines was too busy with the various meetings and discussions for him to find an appropriate time to offer his apology.

After all the required meetings and discussions were concluded, Ines had urged Irving to let her explore the jungles of Antiva. Greagoir eagerly volunteered to accompany her, much to her obvious horror. Irving, thinking that her horror stamped from Greagoir's verified ability to curb her habit of picking up strays, had readily agreed.

Their travel had been strained. Ines did not speak to him, walking ahead to pick and catalogue any plants she did not recognise, stowing them away in her basket that she refused to let him carry. Every time Greagoir built up his courage to apologise for his inappropriate behaviour, she darted away, attention on another exotic plant, furiously scribbling into her bonded vellum. It almost made Greagoir tear his hair out in frustration. By the time they were ready to camp for the night, Greagoir had been resigned to apologise only after they were ready to rest.

Ines cast wards around the clearing while Greagoir gathered wood. "Will you be hunting or are we eating dry rations?" Ines shyly enquired.

Greagoir eagerly agreed to hunt for fresh meat thinking it would help his apology go over better with her. It was with the Maker's grace that he managed to catch a chicken-like animal near to their camp within minutes of being sent off to the task.

Returning to the camp, he was alarmed to find Ines missing. Dropping his catch, he searched around the area and finally found Ines' robes on the bank of the nearby river but there was no sign of her anywhere. He was about to call out her name when she burst out of the surface of the river, glistening water droplets running down her naked body.

"Maker's breath!" Greagoir gulped, knowing that he should be turning around to grant Ines privacy for her bath but he could not tear his eyes away. Ines continued to wash herself, seeming unaware of his voyeurism. His body reacted strongly to her lovely curves, stiffening and straining against his breeches until finally, he had to turn around before he embarrassed himself in his breeches.

He was starting to walk back towards their camp when he heard a shriek and splashes from the river behind him. Startled, he drew his long sword unconsciously and whipped around to confront the danger.

Ines was struggling in the water and bobbing in and out of the surface as she held onto her calf. With a presence of mind granted by the Maker's mercy, he unfastened his armour faster than he had ever done in his life and leaped into the water to rescue his charge.

By the time he drew near to her, Ines had stopped struggling and was floating, weightlessly, back up in the water. He dragged her towards the shore and laid her gently on the river bank. She was not breathing.

"Sweet Andraste! Please have mercy!" Greagoir pleaded to the Maker's bride as he pummelled Ines' bare chest, wanting to force out the water from her lungs. Blowing air into her mouth and pounding her chest at intervals, he gave a great sigh of relief when she finally coughed up a lungful of water, sputtering, heaving and shivering. He drew her close and lifted her into his arms, walking towards the area where they have pitched their tents.

"Ines, do you have enough strength to light the fire?" Greagoir gently enquired. "Or should I get the flint and steel?"

Shaking her head frantically, Ines cast a small flame blast towards the pile of fire set in a neat circle and wrapped cold arms around him. The wood burnt with a dry crackle, warming their wet and cold skin. She snuggled deeper into Greagoir's arms, like a child seeking comfort and Greagoir was tempted to wrap his arms around her but he knew he needed to get out of his wet underclothes.

He untangled her arms where they had snaked around his body, eliciting a grumbled protest from her. "I need to get out of my wet things." Greagoir explained patiently, setting her down in front of the fire. He rummaged through his pack for dry clothes and a towel, and then moved towards the forest to change.

"Since you spied at me while I was bathing, don't I get to see you naked too?" Ines' soft voice floated clearly to him in the quiet night.

Flushing to the tips of his ears, Greagoir turned around. "You… knew…?" He stuttered nervously, waiting for her to shred him verbally like the many times he had seen her do to other would-be suitors.

"Yes, I saw you. While you may not have liked what you saw, I think it's only fair that I get to see you." She answered resolutely, voice gaining strength with each word.

Greagoir's eyes grew large as saucers. "Did not like what I saw? Maker's breath! If I liked it anymore, I would have come in my breeches just from looking at you." He retorted before he could think clearly about his reply.

Ines gasped, blushed and looked away. Greagoir prayed to the Maker that the ground would just open up and swallow him. When that prayer failed to be answered, he nervously laughed and Ines looked back at him in askance. "I have wanted to apologise to you throughout the whole voyage and the entire day today. Looks like I just added another thing to the growing list of things to apologise for."

As Ines tilted her head up to him in question, water from her wet hair trailed down her breasts. Greagoir lost his ability to speak and all coherent thought as his eyes followed the water droplet until it ended in a small turf of blond curls. Ines choked back a laugh as he physically shook himself and the evidence of his arousal escaped from his wet and somewhat loose breeches.

If a man could die from blushing, Greagoir hoped the Maker would take him now. Standing up, Ines stalked towards him with the grace of the famed Antivan jungle cats while he backed away trembling. "I am not in control of my body right now, please keep away from me." He warned her, putting his hands up as a barrier.

She smiled at him and continued forward, taking his hands and placing them on her breasts, producing an audible gulp from him. "I believe you did not take a vow of celibacy, Greagoir. Have you decided how you wish to continue staying at the Circle?" Templars who wished to be permanently stationed at the Circle were either made to take a vow of celibacy or allowed to "partner" with a mage of their choosing within the Circle. The Chantry turned a blind eye as long as no children resulted from the partnership.

Standing so close that Greagoir could feel the heat of her skin on his cool one and he inhaled sharply when her hand wrapped around his stiff member. He could feel his traitorous body inching closer to her as he gave in to the sensations she aroused and dropped his belongings on the ground. Ripping his undershirt off, he wrapped his arms around her like a drowning man and kissed her with all his pent up desire.

His hands cupped her pert breasts, playing with her nipples, drawing them into tight peaks as he slowly kissed his way down her jaw, neck and finally pulled each peak into his mouth. Her soft mewl burned through his resistance and his hand dropped to her hips and drew her closer. When she unconsciously rubbed her wet core against him, he was undone and threw her down to the ground to hover at her entrance.

When she clamped her thighs close with a protest, Greagoir groaned and looked up at her with stormy eyes. Her voice was breathless as she cried out in fear. "It's my first time."

Greagoir closed his eyes, steeling his body, telling himself to go slow for her. Gruffly, he responded. "It's my first time with anyone too, for real. The dreams I had of you, oh… How you have tortured me in the Fade and now, my dear."

Kissing his way down her abdomen, he lapped up the juices emitted from her entrance with relish. She tasted sharp and tangy, like her ever present scent of mint and lemon. His tongue laved her nub as he inserted a finger into her.

"Oh! Yes… yes!" Ines moaned breathlessly as Greagoir slid another finger into her and started moving them in an age old rhythm. Her moans and mewls brought Greagoir to near breaking point and when the walls around his fingers clumped down and she cried out his name, he had to clutch his member in his hand so that he did not release as well.

"Maker's breath, Ines, you will be the death of me." Greagoir muttered as he tried in vain to calm his strained member only to groan hoarsely when Ines started stroking him. "You really shouldn't be doing that if you don't want me inside you."

When Ines continued her caresses, Greagoir's resolve broke and he slammed himself into her. Her cry of pain seared his heart and he froze.

"Sweet Andraste! You are so tight! Ines, please, may I continue?" Ines sucked in a small breath and then nodded, smiling a tremulous smile. Grunting, Greagoir thrusted desperately into her, the movements bringing them closer to the brink of completion. When she fell into the bliss of it again, he followed her, spilling his seed into her. Exhausted, he fell on her then shifted their positions so that he was not crushing her and fell asleep, still joined to her.

They had made love every night during their jungle jaunt. Sometimes, a look from either one had them rutting against a tree. Days were filled with sweet smiles and nights with sweeter moans of pleasure. They had committed to be partnered once back at the Circle and the entire trip was like a honeymoon for them.

Struggling awake with the stiffest bulge he had so far, Greagoir ashamedly eased his hands under his breeches and stroked himself to silent completion. It would not do for his fellow templars to hear him. With fresh resolve, he promised himself to corner her today even if he had to budge into her cabin and throw Wynne out. Cleaning himself up, he dressed and strode with purpose to the galley, fully intending to talk to her alone, even if he had to force his presence on her.

He nodded to the crew who had raised a hand in greeting to him. "Ser, a word." The man blocked his path. Cursing softly under his breath, Greagoir questioned brusquely "What is it?"

"The animal, Ser, the one that makes milk for the wee one? It is not doing so well." The deck hand answered nervously, clearly intimidated by the templar's tone.

"What! How? Did you guys not feed it well or provide it fresh water to drink?" Greagoir roared, his only thought of how Ines would react if the halla somehow died on the voyage to Ferelden. She had always been overly attached to any strays she picked up, this one being more important as Neria still refused to drink any other forms of milk.

"What seems to be the problem now?" Greagoir groaned as Ines' melodious voice asked from behind him.

He hurriedly assured her "Nothing that cannot be resolved…"

Ines bristled. "Don't you take that tone with me." Ines retorted icily. "I'm not Wynne and I distinctly heard something was wrong with the halla. If it's sick, Neria can't drink its milk and she refuses to drink anything else so it's deadly serious." Turning to the deck hand, she uttered irately. "I'll go see what's wrong with her."

Greagoir sighed resignedly. If it means he could be alone with Ines, he would go down into the dank, dim and rank hold with her. As they descended, he rummaged through his mind for the safest topic to engage her in conversation. He loved the sound of her voice, the nuances, melody and how it conveyed all her emotions. "If the halla was already sick, do you think Neria could have caught something already?" He started probing tentatively.

"That's what I would most fear, Greagoir." Ines mumbled worriedly, struggling to place her foot on the step when the ship lugged suddenly to the left. Greagoir caught her before she could tumble head first down the stairway. Grasping her against the side wall, he heard her breath hitch when he had to press in closer as the ship lugged to the right. Looking down at her, he suddenly realised that they were only a hair's breath away and if he just dipped his head a little, he could claim her sweet, luscious lips in his.

Ines' heart pounded in her ears as she watched Greagoir's eyes turn the colour of storm clouds and his lips lowered to hers. He caught her lips in a blistering kiss, drinking her in like a long thirsty man would partake of a first glass of water. His tongue begged her lips for entry and she surrendered her senses for just a moment of bliss with a moan. Hands dropping to her hips, he pulled her flush against him as he plundered her mouth dancing his tongue over hers, whipping up a storm of sensations all the way to her toes. Her traitorous hands glided up his plate armour and tangled in his hair, urging him even closer. Through her thin robes, she felt the hint of his arousal and instinctively nestled closer, rubbing herself against him. Greagoir groaned, all good sense lost, pulling up her robe to stroke her through her small clothes. Ines mewled and Greagoir could feel her wetness saturate her small clothes, dampening his finger.

He was loosening his breeches when the ship lugged to the left again, throwing them off balance and Greagoir fought to stand his ground, refusing to let go of her lips. Gravity did not aid him and they toppled down the stairs to land in a clutter of steel on the mid way landing.

"Ow…" Ines whimpered in pain when Greagoir's pauldrons battered into her breasts. This jolted her out the haze of desire and she blushed furiously. She attempted to untangle their limbs and straighten her robes frantically. What was I thinking? No, I wasn't thinking at all! He is to be Knight-Commander, there is no future for us. Stop this bizarre behaviour and pull yourself together, girl!

Standing up without looking down at Greagoir, she vaulted down the stairs in a rush. Refusing to see if he followed, she ambled quickly towards the makeshift pen where they had been keeping the halla.

It was very obvious that the poor animal was not well. Lying on its side, it would, no, could not lift its head to look at her when she approached.

Greagoir marched up to her bristling. Turning her around forcefully, he started to rebuke her for leaving him lying there on the landing when he saw her eyes brimming with tears. His anger dissipated instantly and he opened his arms to her. Sobbing, she launched herself into his waiting arms and he embraced her snugly.

"Oh, Greagoir! The halla looks like it is dying… We are still three weeks from Ferelden. Even if Neria would drink the milk we have on board, there wouldn't be enough to feed her for more than a week. She is going to starve." All her frustrations about the current state of affairs overwhelmed her and she helplessly wept in his arms.

Greagoir never felt as powerless as he did while the woman he… loved wept in his hands. He realised that he could no longer deny this despite spending hours on his knees begging Andraste to deliver him from this temptation. He knew what he must do. He was prepared not to take the post of Knight-Commander if it came down to it and would stay with Ines as long as she would have him. He did not know her heart but she had always responded to his heated kisses and he held onto the hope that he meant something more to her than a dalliance.

As she exhausted her tears in the arms of the man who held her heart, she knew that she was being unfair to him. She could not, no, should not, give into the temptation to fall into his arms every time the world seemed to conspire against her. She was no wilting hot house flower, she was Ines, Senior Enchanter of the Circle of Magi, Kinloch Hold, Ferelden, at the tender age of twenty five. She was better than this and he did not need her to be clinging to him at every chance. He did not need her, period. She was just some ludicrous test that the Maker decided to throw his way and she would be damned before she allowed him to fail in his duties because of her.

Clenching her fists, she pushed away from his strong, safe arms and turned away without a word. Removing a handkerchief from a pocket and soundly blowing her nose, she tried to ponder on the direr situation, what the halla had contracted and how to cure it.

"Ines, we need to talk…" Greagoir declared firmly. "You are not leaving this place until we have settled what this is between us."

Pasting a fake smirk on her smile, her heart broke as she turned around. "What is this between us? Well, it was pleasurable while it lasted. Don't tell me you want a more permanent relationship? When we get back to the Circle, I still have my plants and strays to tend to. Neria will probably take up most of my time. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea but it won't work out between us. It's not you. It's me. I prefer the peace that my plants bring me. Now, I need to find Wynne, she will probably be able to diagnose what's wrong with the halla." Running away from Greagoir before her tears fell from her eyes, she disappeared up the stairs in a mad rush.

Stung and stunned, Greagoir looked on as the love of his life literally ran away, heart shattering in a million pieces, ice cold stone replacing it.

Author's Notes

I would like to thank FeZeTh13 for adding me to your list of favourite stories and Alice the Walker for adding me to your alert.

Sin of the Fallen, I have checked Chapters 4 and 5 and they are different. Do let me know if you are still having trouble reading the chapters.

FeZeTh13, thank you for your kind review. After falling in love with Zevran in Dragon Age and not finding enough love for him in FanFiction, I decided to step up and create one. Hope I will do a good job.

I would also like to thank all the silent readers of this story. Any reviews (either good or bad would not matter but please be constructive) will be greatly appreciated. This is my first attempt at smut so I welcome any suggestions on how to improve it. Thanks in advance.