How to Deal with Sedition
Every Arl must deal with the inevitable rumors. Whether they're the result of political maneuvering, disgruntled serfs, or drunken rantings; sedition must be brutally squelched. Make an example of the instigator else your command will erode.
Caution: Naked people romping within. Close your eyes while you read this, unless... cough... you enjoy reading such things. You pervert!
Zevran
He was still half asleep when she straddled him with her nightgown hiked up to her hips. Her hot, wet core lay on top of the light fabric of his sleeping pants. She reached between his legs and stroked his cock. He could fully open his eyes and shrug off the sleep or stay like this and imagine...
"Lucia," he moaned and ground his pelvis against her. Some of her warm dampness soaked into his trousers.
She leaned forward and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. Her hair fell around him in a familiar red cloud. He pushed her off him with one hand and with the other untied the string on his breeches and freed his stiffening cock.
It was her, but not her. Nicola's curves were soft and voluptuous; Lucia's were sculpted and angular. She didn't smell like Lucy, either. Her scent was like everything in this fishing village, faintly fishy, although not unpleasantly so. The face, hair, and eyes, all so similar to Lucia's. He slipped a pair of fingers into her. She was wet, very wet. His thumb worked her pearl until she raised her hips into the air and moaned. She sounded nothing like Lucia either. He wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust into her, staring at her face, willing himself to believe.
His pace was gentle at first, then harder. Nicola grew flushed, clutching his back with her sharp nails, urging him on. Zevran used all his tricks on Nicola, no need to draw this out. Few women could climax as many times as his Lucia, and, frankly, he didn't even want to try.
"Damnit, Zevran, I was there! Just get to it, already, you tease," she would say.
"Tsk, tsk, tesora. I haven't heard you beg yet. You're not ready."
He loved to hear the exasperation in Lucia's voice as she begged him for release. Ah, the games they played and how he missed them.
He held back until Nicola was done, then he concentrated on finding his own release. It was a relief, of sorts, but the physical closeness to this woman stirred other longings that mere pleasure couldn't satisfy.
"May I stay with you tonight, pretty bird?" Nicola asked. "My big bed is lonely."
"If you wish," Zevran replied. As her guest, who was he to deny her? He didn't wish to cuddle, but he didn't push her away when she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
"You called me, Lucia, little bird. Who is she?"
"She is the woman I love, the Hero of Ferelden," Zevran said. He wanted to go back to sleep and hoped that Nicola would be still soon.
"The Hero of... but I thought she was Elissa? Is Lucia her pet name?"
"Yes. I call her Lucia."
Nicola was silent a moment. "Do I remind you of her?"
"Yes, you look like her."
"Perhaps that is why Ignacio calls me Elissa sometimes?"
Zevran groaned and rolled away, not wanting to be reminded that Ignacio was sleeping with this faux-Lucy.
"What is wrong, little bird?"
"Go to sleep, Nicola," he told her. Shutup, he thought.
She sighed and retreated to her side of the bed.
~o~o~o~
Ignacio stared at Zevran from beneath his hooded eyes. "I hope you have been comfortable. You are much healthier now than when I last checked on you. Nicola took good care of you?"
Zevran nodded warily, staring at Ignacio. Perhaps now he would find out what motive this Crow master had for keeping him alive. "I'm much improved, but the question remains, why? I am certain returning me to Maestro Armand would have made you a great deal of money. Surely, you know what harboring me would mean if he found out."
"Of course, I do." Ignacio pressed his fingertips together. "Armand is weakened, thanks to you," he nodded at Zevran, "so now he allies with Bernardo's cell to catch you. Only, I know this – Bernardo means to take over Armand's cell. He is too spent to defend against Bernardo.
Zevran laughed. "Armand is a fool to trust Bernardo."
Ignacio smiled. "Armand is a fool, but not because he trusts Bernardo. He is a fool because he trusts me."
Zevran cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, he suspects that Bernardo will try to seize his flock, so I'm going to help him defend it." Ignacio stopped and tapped his fingertips together. "This struggle will weaken them both. Between you and me, we will take them both."
"Ignacio, you are a sly weasel. Why do you need me?"
"You ask a lot of questions for a dead man," Ignacio replied, his eyes cold.
"What do you want from me? You're not doing this out of charity."
The Crow master shrugged. "You will be helping to divert attention away from what I'm doing."
Zevran felt there had to be more. "All right, so I'm a timely diversion, nice but hardly necessary. What haven't you told me?"
A half-smile played on the corner of Ignacio's lips. "Perhaps the Hero of Ferelden would be grateful for her lover to return to her in something other than a cinerary urn."
Zevran's eyes grew cold. "If you think for one moment that I would let you touch her..."
Ignacio blinked in surprise and held up his hands. "Touch her? Zevran, you misunderstand my interest. Having someone in Ferelden in my debt can only be a benefit. Perhaps, one day, she and I can do a little business."
Zevran's suspicions didn't recede far. "Then explain Nicola! Why is your mistress nearly a copy of her."
Ignacio shrugged. "I fancy her. What is the harm in a little make-believe? Besides, she may come in handy someday if I ever need a double of the Hero of Ferelden."
"If you're playing me false..."
"Eh, enough with the suspicions, Zevran. I am being honest with you, sometimes it's necessary. You help me, I help you. A very powerful woman in Ferelden will be grateful, no? We work together, you can be home and see your bambino for the first time, eh?"
Zevran chewed his lip. "Have you heard anything about her?"
"Not much. I don't have eyes in Ferelden right now, but I have ears there. They tell me things. After Bernardo and Armand fall, I can afford to send some Crows. For now, though, I heard your woman had a son, and she is the Warden-Commander, in charge of the Arling of Amaranthine."
Ason! For the first time in months his heart lightened and he saw something more than a lonely death in his future. Ignacio couldn't be trusted further than he could spit a rat, but perhaps he was telling the truth.
"Well, whoreson? Do we have a deal?"
Zevran nodded and stuck his hand out.
The two men shook hands. Such a handshake might mean anything: Treachery, honest agreement or nothing more than two palms pressing together for a moment. Zevran prayed Ignacio was being honest.
Lucy
We got bogged down in the Blackmarsh just as I feared. For over a week we were stuck there, then in the Fade, but we came back with a weird prize of sorts: Kristoff's reanimated corpse with a spirit of Justice inside it. He helped us against the Baroness and, when he was pulled into our world accidently, he seemed at a loss for what to do. I suggested fighting against darkspawn would be a worthy undertaking; he agreed.
At least he wouldn't have to take the joining, since Kristoff was already a Warden. Although, if you asked me what exactly Kristoff had in his veins, I couldn't have answered. Wouldn't the blood have clotted and dried up a little? I wondered how the decomposition would progress. Perhaps he was only mostly dead. I needed to find a Miracle Max to make me a pill that would bring him back from the dead. Maybe Anders could fix him up with a preservation spell, like they did with the archdemon blood to keep it fresh. Or couldn't we pack him into a coffin filled with salt to pickle him. Time for your weekly pickling, Justice!
Frankly, I liked Wynne's spirit a lot better. Justice was just so hardcore sometimes. I could imagine him running "People's Court"; he would probably sentence someone to the death penalty. He saw things in black and white; grey and colors confused him. He started to jump on me about the injustice of taking over Elissa's body. I muddied up the subject by telling him that I didn't ask for it to happen. I was as much a victim as she was. It became a favorite pastime for me to give Justice cases that couldn't be decided. I was determined to teach him that justice was not a binary condition. By the time we got back to the Vigil, I think I'd actually messed his head up some.
Nathaniel acted oddly during this trip. Sometimes he would open up a little and talk about his childhood, then he'd withdraw. He seemed to be in the midst of an internal struggle. At night, by the fire, I'd think about his daddy issues and try to see things as he did. I was someone who truly didn't have that large of a grudge against his father, other than the fact he tried to kill me, but I'd pretended to be a woman who had been terribly wronged by him. I had exacted vengeance in her name. How would that make me feel, if I were in his shoes?
I could understand his point of view. Rendon Howe had been his dad. I'd had a dad that had been a genuinely good guy, but what if I found out he had a less-than-stellar side? I'd still have had years of love and affection for the man that just couldn't be erased that quickly. The tragedy was that Nathaniel and his sister were victims of their father's greed and ambition, too.
I felt like I owed Nathaniel an apology and decided I had to give it to him. One night, while he was on watch, I crawled out of my tent to talk to him. "Nathaniel," I spoke low, remembering that tents didn't actually block much sound. "Can we talk for a moment?"
He nodded.
We walked a little way from the tents.
"I want to apologize to you." Sorry, I killed your dad, just didn't sound all that great, but maybe the six-fingered man should have said it to Inigo Montoya. "I... I have been thinking about what happened... with your father and me." I sighed. "I never thought about your father having children, or what they might think. I never thought any further than the story I had been told about the Couslands, or the things I saw in your father's dungeon, what was done to Riordan there, or that he'd tried to kill us."
"Commander..." Nathaniel said.
"No, let me finish." I held up my hand. "I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. I thought I owed it to Elissa to exact vengeance for her. I felt guilty, even though it wasn't my fault that she died. I think I was wrong. I should have let things take their course. Perhaps he would be alive today, if I had."
"Commander..."
"No. Let me finish, please. I can only imagine how I would feel if someone had robbed me of my father. I'm so sorry, Nathaniel."
He turned away from me a moment then turned back. A tortured look contorted his face. "My father wasn't a good man. He was an evil man. I know that now." He rubbed his cheeks. "Maker! He tortured your husband?"
"Well, it was shortly before I met him, but we found him in your father's dungeons." His face contorted even more, trying to contain some emotion. "Nathaniel it wasn't your fault!" I grasped his arm and tried to comfort him.
"If I hadn't been in the Free Marches... there might have been something I could have done."
"Oh Nathaniel, don't blame yourself." I could feel the bitterness pouring off him.
"Just... leave me be, Commander. I need to think." His face looked haggard and weary.
I nodded grimly and went back to my tent. I felt miserable. I just wanted to make things right for Nathaniel, but I had to admit there was little I could do. It took me a long time to fall asleep.
His gloom began to lift a little when we left Blackmarsh, but leaving that dreary place had an uplifting effect on all of us. By the time we got back to the Vigil, Nathaniel seemed changed. He would never be ebullient, but I would describe him as contented, even a little more animated.
Nathaniel
After seeing Delilah, Nathaniel began to accept that his father was an evil man. The process took a few weeks, but now he didn't fault Lucy for killing him. Some of the details he had heard of the people his father imprisoned and tortured, and the supposed crimes they'd committed, turned his stomach. Lucy's deceased husband had even been one of his victims. He couldn't completely blame her for wishing revenge, even though she denied she did it out of revenge.
He began to focus on other things. The Vigil needed improvements and reinforcements. He worked with the dwarven engineers, reviewing their plans and expediting things where he could. This fortress was in his blood; the arling had belonged to the Howes for ages. The fortifications were something Lucy had no aptitude for, so he took it on. He looked for other ways to make himself useful: Riding lessons for Oghren and Anders, archery training for the soldiers, and sparring frequently with the other Wardens.
The agreement he'd made with Bann Esmerelle was almost forgotten when a new message was delivered to him.
Owen and Irene. Two weeks. -E
He puzzled over the missive for a few moments, then remember that she was expecting his help in securing positions for two household servants. The Bann promised the keep would be his if he helped her.
He smoothed the paper out and read the names again. Did he want Vigil's Keep? A few weeks ago he would have said "no", now he wasn't so sure. Things were beginning to shape up, and much of that was due to his influence and supervision. This was what he grew up knowing how to do. He would be a far, far better Arl than she was an Arlessa. Rightfully, the keep should be his.
Am I not my father's son? Perhaps he should admit it and not fight against his nature. He had two weeks to decide. He folded the paper and stuck it in a hollowed-out finial at the foot of his bed.
Lucy
Apple Orchard. Sunset. -Wolf
Ah, ever the mysterious one aren't you, Mister Wolfy? I stuck his latest note up my sleeve. I really needed to have some pockets in my gown. I would have to have the seamstresses add them.
I was busy, of course, when was I not? Having to explain why there was a walking cadaver in our midst was difficult at times. The Ferelden Grey Wardens were a freak show. We had two cases of transplanted consciousness, one occupying a coprse; an alcoholic dwarf; a wanted apostate; and the son of a disgraced traitor.
"Varel, do you think the Orlesian Wardens were as weird as we are?" I asked.
He pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "No. Oh, they had murders, rapists, and such, but I can't think of a single case of transplanted consciousness or corpse possession."
I felt a little smug. "Well, good! It's nice to know Ferelden's own can out-weird those foreigners. I will have to tell Loghain, he's rather nationalistic. He'll be proud of us."
Varel chuckled, then his face took on a more serious expression. "Have you heard anything more from that Wolf character regarding the conspiracy?"
I shook my head. "I think he intends to update me soon. I'm starting to worry, it seems like the conspiracy has had plenty of time to incubate." I decided against sharing the note with Varel. He worried excessively.
"Let's hope this is resolved soon."
We also had to fit into our schedule time to find rooms for our two resident seamstresses as they arrived. Our cook from the Warden compound in Denerim was due to arrive soon too.
The seamstresses brought two new dresses for me. One was in a burgundy color I thought looked good with my red hair. The two shades of red clashed in a way I rather liked. The other dress was sage green and complemented my hair.
Nathaniel surprised me. He'd begun to take on tasks I'd been ignoring. He came out of the Blackmarsh a different man than the one who went in. This was gratifying! If this kept up, I'd discuss my plans with him. I would turn over the Arling to him, provided he would work with me to introduce some modest democratic reforms.
There was a little extra time to spend with Daniel and every moment was a joy. He'd be three months old soon. Loghain still hadn't returned. He was dealing with a small rebellion in the Bannorn, but he wrote to me regularly and sent presents for Daniel. I also heard from Anora and Alistair frequently, too. Five months and still no word from Zevran. I clung to hope that he yet lived.
"Varel, did you offer one of our holdings to Ser Derren?" I'd been so busy I hadn't had time to arrange the dinner and meeting I'd promised. I didn't want to put him off too long, he'd been quite gracious about losing his bridge to the traitor, Liza Packton.
"He refused, Commander. He said he'll wait until you have time to dine with him. He was quite adamant." Varel looked at me out the side of his eyes. "He seemed more interested in the dinner than whatever holding we are offering."
"Really?" The comment made me smile. Ser Derren had been so accommodating and charming. Not to mention he was rather handsome, with a fine ass as well. "You don't think he minds we're putting him off?"
Varel smiled indulgently. "I told him how busy you are with the darkspawn. He understands." He cocked an eyebrow. "I think he might be a little sweet on you, Commander."
I hoped Varel couldn't read me as easily as he seemed to read others. "It is important we keep our allies close, we have so few."
"Um hm," Varel said, his smile growing.
"Well, don't make any promises, but perhaps in a few weeks I'll have time."
"I won't make any promises you can't keep, Commander."
I smiled at him and wondered, just for a moment, what would Varel be like... you know... in bed?
Temmerly must remain in prison until we wrapped up the conspiracy. Then I'd put him on a ship headed out of Ferelden, but for now we couldn't risk him warning the conspirators. Liza Packton and the other confederates named by him were still free. I hoped Wolf could give me the ringleaders tonight.
~o~o~o~
I wandered out into the chilly evening. The sun was just beginning to sink into the east. It set the sky ablaze in shameless fluorescent oranges and pinks. I wandered amidst the bare trees and enjoyed seeing their branches back-lit by the setting sun. I wrapped my cloak around myself and tried to stay warm.
I should get outside more just to enjoy nature. This world was comparatively untouched and unspoiled. Well, except in the cities, which were absolutely filthy, but my composting toilets would go a long way toward fixing that problem. I thought I would like to learn to ride would be more pleasant that galloping through the fields in this beautiful country, on horseback? I supposed doing it as a horse would be an awful lot of fun too, but I'd been circumspect about using my shape-changing talents, except when utterly necessary.
My mind wandered to the time I'd kidnapped Loghain. What had been such a frightening undertaking at the time was amusing now. Then it occurred to me that the reason I'd given to Loghain for not marrying him was that I didn't want to be the center of attention, yet I'd ended up there anyway as the Warden-Commander and Arlessa. There was more to it than that, though. I couldn't give up Zevran. Besides, Loghain and I would probably end up making each other miserable. Maker knows we had fought a lot at times.
Did I even love Loghain? Yes, I did, but Loghain exhausted me. I always had to be on my toes with him. He had a cutting wit and sometimes he hurt those he loved. He also tended to be closed off and hard to talk to at times; it was like trying to pry open a clam with your fingernail.
Danny and Zevran seemed easy in comparison. They were open, uncritical, and so uncomplicated. Well, Zevran could be complex. It had taken a long time to peel the onion; he had a lot of layers that had protected his core. I never completely saw the man underneath until Riordan had died. I think nearly losing both Danny and me, coupled with my pregnancy, stripped away the last layers of his facade. But just when we had settled into a kind of domestic bliss, he'd left. I sighed heavily.
"So pensive, my lady. Truly, are an Arlessa's duties so burdensome?"
"Wolf!" His voice startled me out of my reverie.
I heard a stirring, and he half-jumped, half-fell from a tree. I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to hold back my laughter. "Well, done, Ser Wolf. I hope your spying has been more successful than your tree climbing."
Wolf stood up and dusted the wet leaves off his breeches. "Well, at least you're laughing. It is better than the heavy sighs. If it took a sprained ankle to hear that sound, then I could say it was well worth the cost."
"Let me take a look at that." Wolf already knew I was a mage. I could at least heal his sprain. I knelt down and began to unlace his boot.
"That's not necessary. I'll just walk it off." He was trying to be macho in front of me, I recognized it.
"Sit down and let me see your ankle," I insisted. "I'm not the best healer, but I think I can handle a simple sprain."
Wolf grunted. He sat down and removed his boot. His sock underneath had a big hole in the toe. The undarned sock made me smile. I put my hands on his ankle and sensed his injury; a torn tendon and some injured muscles.
I cast a simple healing spell along with a little heat to warm his cold foot. "I can fix the ankle, but the sock is beyond saving, I fear. For what I'm paying you, you should be wearing ermine socks."
He snorted at my jesting. "I'm afraid I can't quite live the lifestyle your sort does, my lady. My expenses are substantial, you know. Much of the money you paid me was used to loosen tongues." He put his boot back on. "Thank you. Your touch is most restoring." He stood up and offered me his hand.
I rose and looked at him. What little sun was left in the sky highlighted the strong column of his throat. He wore his black mask again and I wondered, as I always did, what lay beneath it. I couldn't see his eyes in this light, but I thought they might be green. "Will I ever see you without that mask?" What possessed me to ask such a question, I didn't know. Weren't we meeting to discuss the conspiracy?
"Will I see you without yours?" he replied. "It seems we both have identities we want to hide."
"Fair enough," I said. "Well, what have you learned, Mister Wolf?"
"I have learned that someone within your keep is a traitor. Be careful who you trust."
A traitor in the keep? A servant? Someone I counted on and relied on? One of my Wardens? "I don't suppose you have a name for me?"
He shook his head sadly. "I fear not. I have uncovered more names, such as Ser Guy, but I think there are more. I don't have the ringleader or definitive proof yet."
I sighed. "We're going to have to do something, whether or not you've found the ringleader. It seems like they've had ample time to put together their plan; I fear they might act soon."
"They're certainly spinning a lot of rumors," Wolf admitted.
"Oh no. Dare I ask?"
"The most alarming are rumors of food shortages. Is there any truth to them?"
"There is some truth to it, but Varel is working on importing more grain from the Free Marches and Orlais. There are shortages all over Ferelden this winter, due to the Blight. I think we can counteract any sort of panic if we're forthcoming with the people." I thought about sending someone out to the villages to talk to the public and reassure them.
"There are also rumors about you... your personal life."
I sensed Wolf was reluctant to explain further. "Oh? Go on."
"There is, of course, gossip about the appetites of the Grey Wardens, nothing new about that. If anything it lends something of heroic stature to those in your order, except amongst those who have a prudish or overly religious bent."
I smiled. "It sounds harmless enough, perhaps it will help recruiting efforts, should I ever get the time to recruit anyone."
Wolf coughed into his gloved hand. "It is harmless, except where you're concerned. There, the rumors are somewhat worse. It seems, according to them, you have an unnatural fondness for mabari."
My mouth gaped open. "Mabari?"
"Or horses, depending on who does the telling."
"They're trying to make me into Catherine the Great!" How maddening, yet amusing at that. There would be some, undoubtedly, who would believe it. How much weirder would it be if they found out I was the horse? I kept my amused giggle internal.
"Who?" He laughed. "I don't think people really believe it. Most people are quite fond and proud of their heroine and laugh at such ridiculous tales. In fact, I've seen bar fights break out when your character is called into question."
"Well, then it's just silly gossip. I suppose I should get used to it."
"What is more interesting is the rumor that you and your brother are practically at war with one another and that he has disowned you. The most popular of that breed of rumor is that your brother dislikes the fact that you wed a commoner."
I smiled grimly. "Sometimes even gossip is right."
"So it is true? You were married to the Warden who died?"
I nodded. "Riordan. Yes, we married." Sort of.
"It is a romantic story. One that makes you even more sympathetic to the common people. I think your only concern is with the food shortages, everything else you can ignore." He paused a moment and scrutinized me. He took my hands in his. "I am sorry for your loss, my lady."
I smiled at him. "Thank you. I miss him very much, but the pain has faded greatly."
He stepped closer and lightly kissed my cheek. "You are a brave and resilient woman." He turned to leave, but I didn't let go of his hand.
I'm also a very lonely woman."Wolf..." I said, not sure exactly what I was going to say or do, so I stopped talking, but I kept his hand.
"My lady?"
The sun had nearly abandoned the sky, and he was little more than shadow now. I considered a dozen things to say, each one sappier than the next. The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. Indecision locked my words up, but less cerebral impulses won the day. "Oh hell," I growled and closed the distance between us, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and kissing him assertively. I could sense his surprise, but he responded to my kiss by putting an arm around my waist and pulling me closer.
It had been so long. The fire, long banked, surged into a wildfire. The kiss stretched on for minutes, but it had to end sometime.
"My lady..." he said, his voice sounded foggy with what I hoped was desire.
"Call me, Lucy, please." I peered into his mask, wishing I could see his eyes. "Forgive my presumptuousness."
"You did nothing I haven't been wanting to do for quite some time, Lucy."
"Then what next, Ser Wolf? You seem shy of scrutiny, and I have a certain propriety that I have to observe."
He turned my head so his mouth was on my ear. "Then we should meet somewhere. Tonight? A friend of mine has a cozy house not far away. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we made use of it. He is visiting relatives to the south." His warm breath buffeted my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
He gave me directions, and I agreed to meet with him after supper, after I had put Daniel to bed. Sneaking out of the keep was easy for me. I could simply open a window and fly away. Being a shape-changer had its advantages.
We exchanged a few more kisses and parted. I walked back to the keep. I was quite sure my feet didn't contact the ground. I felt like I had champagne flowing in my veins. I'd have time to take a bath, change, primp a little, then eat dinner. I hummed happily to myself as I walked through the great hall and up the stairs to my room. I turned a corner, not paying attention to where I was going, and smacked straight into Anders coming from the other direction.
"Whoa!" I bounced off him, lost my balance, and fell on my ass.
Anders kept to his feet. "Commander! I'm so sorry."
I laughed and took the hand he held out. "Not your fault, I wasn't paying attention."
He smiled at me. "You look rather happy tonight. Did you receive some good news? Perhaps Teyrn Cousland has contracted the plague? Or have all the darkspawn decided to go to Orlais?"
I laughed at his joking. "Nothing like that. I'm just in a good mood."
"I see," he said. "Oh, you dropped something." He bent and picked up the message from Wolf I had stuck in my sleeve. It was unfolded and the message short; I could see his eyes moving over it as he read it. He scowled. "Wolf? Wasn't he that ruffian you met with in Amaranthine?"
I snatched the message from his hand. "He's looking into that conspiracy for me, and he isn't a ruffian."
"Of course he is, otherwise he wouldn't call himself Wolf, or Dark Wolf, or whatever mysterious name he goes by. You shouldn't be meeting with this scoundrel by yourself."
I shoved the note back up my sleeve. "I'll take it under advisement. See you at dinner." Anders' concern was sweet, but he worried too much. I couldn't exactly take a chaperone with me on my date. Although that did spark an intriguing fantasy of taking someone along to guard me... Anders, would you like to come? The double entendre nearly made me giggle.
I took a lengthy bath in scented water and fixed my hair. My new burgundy dress, which clashed with my hair, went on over my chemise. The dress was cut a little low, and the seamstresses insisted I wear it with a corset to "display my assets". I longed for the comfort of a modern day push-up bra to hold up "the girls". I'd kill for a Victoria's Secret shop in my arling.
I almost used a little rouge, but my cheeks were already pink and my lips were dark enough. A bit of lip gloss, perhaps a smoky eye... What people would think of the cosmetics from my world: Shiny, sparkling pink lips, mauve eye shadow, bronzer, false eyelashes, I could only imagine their reaction. I looked at myself critically in the big mirror. After two years, I had finally grown used to thinking of this body as mine. I could finally admit that I looked good, even without the lip gloss.
I went downstairs and joined the others for dinner.
"Commander, you look lovely this evening," Varel complemented me. "Is there a special occasion?"
"Hm?" I looked up from my meal, trying to think of an excuse. "Not really, I was just trying on my new clothes."
Anders was sitting next to me. "New hair style, fragrance, too, if I'm not mistaken." He gave me an odd look, but then his eyes settled on my cleavage and his look changed to one of distinct approval.
"Varel," I made a bid to change the subject, "I hear there are rumors circulating about a possible food shortage. I think we need to reassure the people that we're not going to run short. They should be informed of what we're doing to avert a crisis before there's a panic."
Varel nodded. "That sounds like a good plan. I will see that we send a representative around the arling to put their fears to rest."
I ate dinner quickly and told everyone I was retiring early. "I'm exhausted!" I yawned and stretched and bid everyone good night. I ran upstairs – probably not something someone as exhausted as I claimed to be would do – went into the nursery, and held Daniel on my lap while I read him a story. A memory assailed me from my childhood. My mom all dressed up and wearing perfume, holding me before going on a date with my father. It seemed like her spirit reached out from another universe and touched me for a moment.
I rocked in the chair and read a story about Little Bear. Danny was getting so big! Loghain had better hurry and visit, or his son might be full grown before he saw him again. Danny contentedly made burr-burr noises with his tongue and lips and blew spit bubbles. I wiped them away on my new dress. A little baby spit was good luck, I'm sure.
I put my boy to bed and bid goodnight to Iveta. Then I went into my bedroom, locking the door that joined my room to the nursery. I didn't want her to wander into my room and find me gone. I debated how to make my escape. Opening a window in my room would let cold air under the door into the nursery. I decided to go to another room, one not in use, and open a window and leave it open. I could fly back in when I returned.
It was rather exciting to be slipping away for a secret assignation. It reminded me of my time with Loghain. I took a deep breath and changed form. Hopping onto the sill, I fluffed my feathers against the cold air. I perched a moment, feeling the darkness beckoning, then I was off, winging my way to the house where Wolf was waiting. Flying was wonderful, I had missed it terribly.
I reached the house quickly and saw light streaming through the windows. Out of prudence I did a little spying. I looked into a few windows and only saw Wolf sitting in a comfortable chair before the fire staring pensively into it, his feet resting on a footstool. He still wore his mask.
I found a thick stand of trees nearby and hid within them while I transformed. Then I walked to the house and knocked on the door. I didn't have long to wait before Wolf opened it.
"Lucy." He stood in the doorway a moment and just looked at me, as if he couldn't quite believe I was there.
"Can I come in? It's a bit chilly." I clutched the cloak around me. Feathers were much warmer than even this heavy leather and wool cloak.
He smiled as if finally believing his eyes and pulled me inside. He shut the door behind me and without a word pulled me to him and kissed me. "I didn't think you'd come."
I laughed softly. "Really? That would have been rather rude. I try not to be rude." I kissed him back and ran my hand along his cheek. "Still with the mask?" I sighed.
"Trust me with your secrets and I'll trust you with mine," he said. His hands opened the fastener on my cloak; he swept it off my shoulders, throwing it over the stair railing.
I kissed his face at the edge of the mask and pushed it up just a little with my fingers. "What will it take to get you to remove it?" This was clearly a challenge now. Surely he didn't think I was going to bed him and let him keep the mask on?
He grasped my hand that was pushing his mask up and kissed my fingers. "We could tell each other who we truly are, then there wouldn't be any need for masks."
I laughed lightly. "What makes you think I'm not who I say I am?" I teased a finger of my other hand underneath his mask.
He caught the other hand and kissed it too. "It doesn't add up. Too many inconsistencies. Elissa Cousland might have been many things, but she wasn't a mage." He led me by my hands into the living room to the sofa. "Brandy?"
I nodded. "Yes, please."
He walked to the decanter across the room and poured brandy for us both. "By all accounts you were scheming, ambitious, dismissive of servants, particularly elves. But now I hear much different things about you. Your servants say you're fair-minded and generous. You treat them like family, as you do your Grey Wardens."
"Those stories are simply wrong. I've always been kindhearted to servants and elves."
He returned to the sofa and handed me the glass. "No." He shook his head. "I've spoken to some of your past and current underlings. The Elissa who left Highever is not the one I'm speaking with tonight. Elissa never went by the name Lucy, either."
I sipped at my drink for an extended period, trying to think of something clever. "A person doesn't live through what I have without changing."
He leaned over and kissed my neck. His tongue drew a hot line from my collar bone to just below my ear. "I'm sure that's true," he whispered into my ear. "There's just too much that doesn't add up."
"You're a very suspicious man. I suppose that's why you're good at what you do." He wanted to make a game of this?
"I like to think of myself as curious. When things don't make sense, I like to figure them out." He ran a calloused finger under my jaw and turned my face toward his. "And you, my dear, have never made sense to me."
His lips pressed against mine again in a fevered, bruising kiss. My spine began to melt.
He pulled away from me for a moment. "What was your nanny's name?"
My mouth opened as I realized I had no idea who her nanny had been. I tried to look away, but he pulled my head back so I'd have to look at him. His eyes, what I could see of them in that mask, looked amused.
"You hesitate!" he said. "I'm sure you wouldn't forget the woman who practically raised you from childhood."
"I had a head injury. I've forgotten many things that happened before the Blight." Gosh, now I really wish I hadn't dropped Prevarication 101. You'd think I'd have this lying business down pat by now.
"Oh, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy..." he sighed. "I'm so disappointed. I thought your coming here tonight meant you trusted me." I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
I took another long sip of my brandy, stalling for time, inspiration, or a clever excuse. Fine then! Let's look this sucker straight in the eyeball and call it what it is. I was here for a booty call. How much of my secret was I willing to trade away to get some? Could I really trust him?
"Would it be easier if I told you a bit more about myself? Perhaps we could exchange secrets, a little at a time," Wolf offered.
He had already figured out I wasn't Elissa, he just hadn't figured out who I was. I wasn't sure he would believe me if I told him. Did I trust him that far? My gut told me Wolf was one of the good-guys, but my sense of such things certainly wasn't infallible.
"All right, you go first," I agreed.
"You have to promise to reveal something after I do. Something meaningful."
I nodded and bolted the rest of my brandy. "I promise." I held out the glass knowing I was going to need more to open up about my identity.
He smiled, looking pleased, then refilled both our glasses. "All right then," he said, settling back on the sofa and twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. "I have something of a reputation in Denerim. I stole a few things. A trinket from Teyrn Loghain, the tears of Andraste, some things that Arl Howe probably never even missed. I gave the tears to the Chantry. Some nobleman had stolen them in the first place."
"Oh!" I snapped my fingers. "I remember hearing about you. It seems you had quite a crime spree." I smiled at him. "I don't find stealing from nobles all that objectionable. After all, they steal from everyone else."
He barked out a laugh. "You're a very odd woman, Arlessa."
"But don't steal from me, though. I wasn't kidding when I said I was cash-strapped. The fort was badly damaged in the attack, plus the Blight has devastated our economy. I have to be able to pay our soldiers so we can protect the farmlands, city, and trade routes from darkspawn. I paid for a lot of the expenses here from my own toilet money."
"Toilets! That's another thing that doesn't make sense. Where does Elissa Cousland come up with the idea of exploding ballista bolts and toilets?" He took another sip of his brandy. "All right. You have something you could use against me. A confession to my crimes. Now it's your turn."
I bolted the rest of my drink and held out my glass again.
He got up and refilled my glass, bringing the decanter back, so he wouldn't have to get up again.
I was beginning to get tipsy. "All right. I warn you, you won't believe me. I am not Elissa Cousland, at least, not entirely."
"I do believe you're not Elissa Cousland, although I can't account for the fact that you look like her." I saw a portrait of you... her once. The resemblance is remarkable."
"Well, that's because externally, I am her. This is the part you probably won't believe." I took a deep breath so I could say it quickly. "An ancient witch named Flemeth did some sort of spell to put my mind into her body and visa versa. No one consulted either one of us, it just happened. I woke up at Ostagar a different person from the one who fell asleep the night before. I come from a different world, perhaps in another galaxy or dimension. Who knows?" I shrugged.
"Flemeth? She is nothing but a legend! Your story is too fantastic."
I sighed. "She was quite real. We ended up killing her as a favor to her daughter. She turned into a very nasty dragon and almost killed me!"
He watched me closely. "Can you prove anything about this story?"
"I have, several times over. The first time it was to the Grey Wardens when I awoke in Elissa body. They had a mage confirm that I wasn't her and they accepted me, but said I'd have to pretend to be her. Then later other mages discovered my secret, like Wynne from the Circle Tower. Finally, the Grey Wardens from Weisshaupt confirmed my story as well. They wrote a letter explaining my circumstances and that I was under their protection, just in case the Chantry should get any ideas of messing with me. Of course, the king knows, he was with the Wardens when I awoke in her body."
He rubbed his jaw with his hand, looking stunned. "I thought there was something... but I had no idea it was anything like this."
Had I just killed my chances for the evening? I suddenly understood how Anders felt when someone fled from his attentions for being a mage. It was disappointing.
"From another world? Is it similar to this one?" he asked.
I laughed and shook my head. "Not any more, although it once was. We are perhaps what you will be like in nearly a thousand years. We have machines that fly, and ones that travel very fast along smooth roads." Well, if you don't count the potholes, which were becoming enormous and plentiful by the time I was whisked away. "We can travel into space and deep into the seas with our machines. We have no magic, but we do have toilets. I've been trying to bring some of the comforts of my home to Thedas. I missed toilets the most."
He gulped down his brandy in one swallow.
"There are no elves or dwarves on my world. No Qunari. Just humans, animals, insects, minerals and so on. No monsters like darkspawn or dragons. Some animals are kind of scary, but they are just animals." I thought for a moment. "I guess we do have monsters, but they're just really nasty humans."
"Another world?" he murmured again, still a bit in shock.
"It's your turn, I believe. Who are you? Other than the mysterious Dark Wolf." I reached out and tapped on his masked forehead.
He seemed to recover a little from my astounding revelation. "I am the third son of a Bann. I was given to the Chantry as a boy, but decided to leave before taking my vows. My father disinherited me. It was a long tradition in our family that one son would serve the Chantry. They liked to maintain a pretense of piety, but I rather dashed their plans."
"And your real name?" I asked.
"Lorcan Franderel, at your service."
"Franderel... " I mused over the name. It was just another one of the Banns. I was sure I had heard Loghain talk about him. "Franderel... wait! The Dark Wolf! Of course! Didn't you steal the tears of Andraste..."
He smiled. "From my own father? Yes."
My respect for him was growing by leaps and bounds. "Your own father!"
He shrugged. "We never got along. What better way to repay him for all the beatings?"
"Why... you audacious thing!" His story made me laugh.
I turned so that I was kneeling on the sofa, facing him. "Now that we've properly introduced ourselves... do we still want to continue with this?" My fingers teased the edge of his mask. I didn't wait for a reply. I slid my hands to the back of his head. He didn't remove my hands, so I worked the knot lose and pulled the mask free.
His face was handsome, but marred by a long, puckered scar that extended down his forehead and close to the side of one eye, distorting it slightly. His hair was fair, and, although it had been flattened by the mask, it curled rather nicely. He had beautiful green eyes that reminded me of Riordan's. In all, his features were handsome, but for the scar. Yet it gave him an air of danger that I found rather sexy. If I were to judge his age, I thought he might be in his mid-thirties, there were lines around his mouth and at the sides of his eyes.
"You tell me, my dear. You know my secrets and what else I was hiding behind the mask."
He was sensitive about the scar. I leaned forward and tipped his face up to mine. "I just see the man I wish to kiss. I only need to know if he wishes me to. We've both revealed a lot, Lorcan. Now it's time to decide whether to leap in, or away." I held my breath waiting for his reply.
He looked at me for a long moment in silence. "I am leaping in, Lucy. Only, please don't call me Lorcan."
My finger pathed down his temple, beside the scar, then across his lower lip. I leaned forward and kissed him. There was a little hesitation at first, but he did return it with enthusiasm. I knew my weird story had thrown him. I hadn't been sure he would recover his interest after that. I threaded my hands into his hair and unleashed a lot of pent-up longing.
"Come here," he said hoarsely. He pulled me onto his lap and I could feel his growing interest pressing against my bottom. Somewhere in that embrace he must have lost his concerns about my strange origins, or whether or not I was a mad woman. The kiss was good, the woman, eager; such things can conquer a lot of doubt in a man.
Being with someone new can be awkward, but it hadn't been like that with Danny or Zevran. Oh sure, it had been new and strange at first, but never awkward. Some kind of primal madness always descended on me with those two. Clothes seemed to melt away, everyone knew how best to touch each other, or if suggestions were made, they grew out of the moment and only lent to the fevered pitch of our love-making.
I had to confess I was nervous to be with someone I hardly knew. There were so many uncertainties. What would he think of the things I liked? Would sex magic be too freaky for him? How assertive could I be with him? I never had those thoughts about my two absent lovers. Ah well, I would be as vanilla as I possibly could be.
A sudden shift in position and I fell backwards, with his arm to slow my descent, onto the sofa. He leaned over me and looked at me a moment. "You are breathtaking with that glorious hair. The firelight on your skin..." He stroked his hand against my hair, as if I were a cat. He smiled at me. "You should beware the Chantry ever learning your secret, they would take you for a desire demon."
He unlaced my corset; I kept my eyes glued to his. The firelight was just as flattering to him as it was to me. If it hadn't been for the scar, he would have been almost too pretty. "And what do you take me for?"
"Desire, indeed. If you're a demon, my soul is lost. If not... then only my mind is lost." His hand traced the contours of my throat and a finger followed the low neckline of my dress.
"Whichever it is then, I promise I will return it."
He opened my corset and I untangled myself from it. Clothes came off and landed haphazardly on furniture, the floor, then the banister and stairs as we made our way up to the bedroom. A fire was burning already in the upstairs bedroom. I was glad he had planned ahead, Ferelden was becoming very cold and the houses were drafty.
My chemise finally fell a few feet short of the bed, then his trousers joined the textile battlefield. He backed me up to the bed, our lips glued together, my hands exploring the things I'd speculated had been under his clothes: A nice chest, well-shaped arms, a tapered waist, a tight ass. He would have looked good on a calendar. We fell to the bed and then there was a little artless fumbling for a few minutes as we explored one another. His touch was tenuous and too delicate while I held back, afraid to offend his sensibilities. Despite the rocky beginning, we grew more confident and bolder as our passion increased.
I demonstrated on him how I liked to be touched; a bit of pain with a lot of pleasure. Judging by his moans he was enjoying it too. He ran his hands from my breasts, down my belly, then caressed the insides of my thighs. I was glad I'd stopped burning off my public hair. I'd been far too busy to attend to such things, and there hadn't been any real point to it with Zevran gone. He seemed enchanted with my curly red thatch. Things really began to pick up when he kissed his way down my belly and spread my legs apart, burying his mouth and nose in my center. I could forgive a lot of clumsiness for what followed.
Whatever inhibitions I had dissolved as his skilled tongue and fingers worked on me. I had to watch myself as my fingers gripped his head and pulled at his hair as I squirmed and writhed under him; he wouldn't thank me if I left him a bald spot. He didn't let up until I'd had a noisy climax and lay weak-limbed on my back, unable to move for a moment.
He climbed up my body and loomed over me, his smiling lips shining with my own fluids. I smiled back at him and flicked my tongue out to lick myself off his lips. That turned into another ardent kiss which left us both breathless. His firm, warm cock teased at my entrance. It had been so long! I had to laugh at myself. During my fifty two years before coming to Ferelden, a dry spell of five or six months wouldn't have even registered on the sexual drought-o-meter. Since becoming a Grey Warden in a young woman's body, it seemed like an eternity.
The eternity ended as he slowly pushed himself into me. My breath caught, and I closed my eyes to savor the moment, the feeling of being stretched and filled. Wolf groaned as he slowly withdrew then plunged himself inside me again. I arched up under him trying to increase our contact, but Wolf was following his own rhythm. The slow, deliberate pace built upon my excitement again; soon I was using my nails on his back to encourage his progress. He thrust faster and deeper in response. I buried my mouth against his neck to hush my cries as I climaxed again. He followed soon after. Rhythm breaking, his hips stuttering against mine as he made a guttural cry.
He collapsed against me, his perspiring forehead next to my cheek. I stroked his hair as our hearts slowed from a wild gallop. After a few moments he rolled off me, to the side. I turned to look at him, a happy smile on my face. I couldn't keep it in; I laughed.
His expression looked confused, a little hurt. "What?"
"I was just thinking I'm ready to do it again."
"Does this have something to do with being a Grey Warden?"
I nodded. "Yes, I think so." I traced a pattern on his chest with my fingernail.
He smiled. "Ah, the stuff of legends, and I get to experience it firsthand."
"You do, indeed." I bounced a little kiss against his lips.
"Give me a moment. I'm not a teenager, although you make me feel like one."
"Take your time, Wolf, we have all night, and I'm a patient woman." I wasn't patient at all. I could have used magic to speed things up, but Zevran had taught me techniques too. It was amazing what lips, tongue, fingernails and the careful application of teeth could do. I kissed my way down his torso and did what I could to speed his recovery.
We made love twice more. The pleading look in Wolf's eyes after the third time was a clue there wouldn't be a fourth. I could take the hint. He pulled the covers up around us and I fell asleep with my head on his chest, feeling sated for the first time in months.
I awoke shortly before dawn knowing I should leave before the Vigil stirred to life. I debated whether or not I should wake Wolf who was still sound asleep beside me. In the end, I decided to kiss him and if he woke, then I would say goodbye, otherwise I would leave quietly.
He turned out to be a light sleeper and he awoke. "I should go, Wolf." I snuggled against him one last time, trying to soak up the feeling of having another body in contact with mine.
His eyes looked unfocused still with sleep. "No, not yet. Stay awhile longer." His arms clutched me.
I hated to slip away from his warmth out into the cold air. "I can't, Wolf." I kissed him again and pried myself away. The room temperature had me shivering, and my clothes had been abandoned all over the house, upstairs, downstairs, even on the banister. Flesh dotted with goose pimples, I ran around collecting them, stopping only to put them on piece by piece.
He plodded down the stairs after me. "I will walk you back to the keep."
I shook my head. "No need."
"No, I insist." He yawned and rubbed his head.
"I'll be quite fine, Wolf. I did kill an archdemon, after all. Go back to bed." I kissed him one last time and wrapped my cloak around myself, steeling myself for how cold I knew it would be. He gave up and watched me walk me away. I turned to wave, and he lifted a hand to me. Once out of sight of his house, I turned into a crow and flew back to the keep, through the window I'd left open.
Sometime during our love-making, I remembered I was not infertile and reminded myself that I needed to drink some contraceptive tea. I headed directly downstairs to the kitchen where I knew there was a large glass jar with the necessary blend. I got the jar down and put it on the table and filled a mug with hot water from my hands. I heard a footstep behind me and turned to see Anders.
He looked at the jar of tea then at me.
"Um, I couldn't sleep," I lied, pathetically. "I thought I'd have a cup of tea."
He smiled, a slightly evil look crossing his face. "Ah, if you can't sleep..." he picked up the jar I'd taken off the shelf and put it back, "I'd recommend valerian and chamomile, very soothing."
"Oh, right. I got the wrong batch." I laughed. "See how tired I am?"
He frowned at me. "Then again, perhaps you had the right batch." He reached out and pulled my hair away from my neck. He shook his head. "Bruised lips. Your neck... What brute left you so marked?" His hands glowed blue and he touched my neck.
Brute? He was rather delicate by my standards. I frowned at Anders. "He wasn't a brute." I liked how the little bites and bruises still tingled so deliciously; now they were erased, much to my disappointment.
"There, now you don't look like you just spent the entire night fucking."
I flushed. "Erm, thanks. I need to see about that tea."
"Don't bother," he said. "I have a spell." His hands flared again. I felt a little odd shimmy in my abdomen and then it was over.
"Thanks," I mumbled.
He just stared at me a moment, his expression unreadable. I decided to make some of the chamomile tea. I could stand a few additional hours of sleep.
He went into the pantry and came out with a wheel of cheese and some apples. "Want a little bed time snack? I'm sure you must be hungry after..."
"Uh, sure." All that fucking? I really didn't want him to finish that sentence. Why did it bother me so much that I'd been caught, if not in the act, with all the evidence of it?
He gave me an apple. I bit into it hungrily, realizing he was right. I had worked up an appetite. He cut off a piece of cheese and handed that to me next. I put a little honey in my tea and sat down and sipped it.
"So, who is he?"
"I'm not the kiss and tell sort."
"I can guess." He leaned back on the counter, looking smug. "You drop a note from someone named Wolf. Then you come downstairs dressed in all your finery, smelling good, with your hair fixed up. Coincidentally, you retire early for the night. Then you sneak back into the keep before dawn looking like someone has been chewing on your neck, and your hair is a mess."
"You're a regular Sherlock Holmes, you know?" This line of questioning was making me uncomfortable.
"I'll take that as a complement, because I don't know who that is. Someone with marvelous intellectual powers, I'm sure."
"A good guess. You're full of them tonight."
"You know, in the tower, mages slept with mages. It's simply the natural order of things."
"Oh, come now! It was all you had available."
"Well, there was the occasional corruptible templar, but even so mages make the best lovers." He pointed at me. "Tell me honestly, could you even use magic around this Wolf fellow?"
I looked down at my tea. "Well, the relationship is rather new and fragile. I didn't want to push it."
He snorted. "Of course not! I guarantee the first display of magic, and he'll be off and running." Anders sighed. "It's like making love with half your senses gone, isn't it?"
I stirred my tea remembering my time with Zevran and Riordan. "It can be pretty damned magical even without the magic."
Anders scoffed. "Do you even know what to do? You've only been here a couple of years by your account. How did you pick it up already?" He took a bite of his apple.
"Wynne taught me the basics." I was smug; I knew what mages could do in bed. Ha!I'm not the noob you think I am, Anders. I've been around the block a time or twelve.
Anders exploded with laughter; half-chewed apple shrapnel went flying across the table and splattered me. "Wynne taught you, did she?"
I wiped the apple off my face. "Well, she didn't demonstrate, she just described it. I practiced... a lot. It was so I could learn better control because of my strange reaction to lyrium." I glared at him. "You're not thinking she and I were... Do not think it!"
Anders snorted. "Right. She taught you." Amused sarcasm dripped from his voice. "Did she teach you the denial clamp? I'm sure you've never experienced a full plexus pleasure loop or a Magnus block, or, for those times you want to be done quickly, a Finneger bolt."
Shit! What? Wait...that last one. "Ha! You're wrong. Bendrick used the bolt, I think."
"But you don't know how?" he asked, needling me.
I shook my head. "Wynne told me sex-magic was just using very tiny fire, ice and lightning spells."
Anders snickered. I wanted to wipe the smug expression off his face, but not before I learned those spells. "Of course she didn't teach you those. She hasn't had her robes thrown over her head in thirty years. She probably never learned them."
"What's a Magnus block?" I just had to know. It all sounded very interesting.
He smiled smugly. "A Magnus block is magical nerve block. You can do all sorts of things to someone and they won't feel any pleasure at all..."
"That seems like it sort of defeats the purpose of having sex in the first place. Well, if you don't count procreation."
"Let me finish. They don't feel anything until you remove the block, and then they feel it as if it were all happening at once."
My mouth dropped. "Maker..." I could just imagine something like that in Zevran's hands. I think, if there was a god, he had been wise in not allowing my assassin to have magical powers.
Anders munched happily at his apple and watched my expression.
"And the denial clamp?" I asked, my curiosity afire.
"When you're not ready for your lover to climax, it leaves them hanging right at the edge."
I had to take a sip of my tea to counteract the sudden dryness of my mouth. I thought of Zevran again and the torture he would wreak with that. Dear, sweet god almighty, he would probably make me go a whole day like that. Ah, but the power of denial could be mine. My internal laugh was an evil one.
"That other one? The loop?"
"Oh, the plexus pleasure loop? It is a connection between two mages where you each experience what the other is feeling, in addition to what you're feeling. There's a variation on that where you don't experience what you're feeling, but only what the other person feels. It's almost like switching bodies. That's very advanced, though, since you still control your body, but the other person feels with your fingers, sees with your eyes. It's very confusing and usually leads to someone getting hurt."
Maker's ass, send me to the tower now! Why isn't there ever a templar around when you need one? "And you wanted to leave the tower? Remind me why."
Anders snickered at me. "One rarely gets the opportunity to even practice these things. Perhaps a few stolen moments behind a book case in the library, or you might be able to bribe your roommate not to turn you into the templars. These magics were banned by the Chantry, of course. They hate the idea of mages actually having fun."
My mind was swirling with possibilities. "What happens if you combine a denial clamp and a Magnus block?"
He chuckled softly. "You'll just have to try it sometime." He finished off his apple and cheese. "Well, I'm off to bed." He smirked at me. "If this Wolf left you with the pox, I can cure that too."
I was still thinking about the Magnus block and hardly heard him leaving. "G'night," I mumbled. I quickly finished my snack and went upstairs.
I turned my thoughts to my night with Wolf as I washed up and changed into my nightgown. It had been nice with Wolf, but he wasn't Zevran or Riordan. Yes, it was a little awkward, something I'd never felt with those two. An ache started in the region of my heart as I realized just how much I missed them. Then I started to feel hollow. There was something missing from my night with Wolf. It was what I had wanted, right? I didn't want to risk losing my heart to someone. I needed to think like a man right now. It was what it was, a booty call. That's good enough for men, why can't it be for me?
I pounded my pillow into the shape I wanted and crashed down on it with a big tired sigh. I had plenty to do the next day. I settled my mind and recaptured the pleasant glow I'd had earlier; then I slipped into the Fade.
I did something rarely do: I slept in until noon.
~o~o~o~
Thanks so much for the reviews; they keep a girl inspired to continue writing. My thanks to Zevgirl and Biff McLaughlin for the inspiration and especially to Biff for beta-reading this monster. Also to Scarylady1 for her comments that led me to realize I was missing something in this story. Hopefully, it'll be coming back in future chapters.
I've made my first deadline but the next one I probably won't. :p Such is life, eh? I *may* be starting a new job next week (knock wood).