"Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm weak Maybe I'm blinded by what I see You wanted a soldier but it wasn't me 'Cause I could never set you free"
9:28 Dragon
Melia sat under a large willow tree, swinging her leg off of the lowest branch as she weaved together a bracelet from the leaves.
Her toes were cold, feeling the chill of the first night of Autumn, but she still wore her barefoot sandals that laced up to her knees. When a cool breeze lifted up the leaves of the tree, Melia took in the sweet scents, loving the way it played with the fallen strands of her snowy hair.
Once she finished weaving, she set the bracelets in her pack and then set off to enjoy the night air.
After sundown in the Frostbacks was never as good as it was in the Wilds of the Brecilian in Melia's opinion. There was only the soft sound of crickets, but no lightning bugs or the familiar sound of the deep throated frogs found only in the south. There was, however, the splendor of having the comforting hoot of the owls that Melia enjoyed.
Melia stopped by a small stream to fill up her water skin when she saw a family of range halla. She clicked her tongue, speaking soft words of comfort.
The doe, heavy with calf, stopped in place. She stared at Melia with large black eyes, her snowy ears flittering as a few lightning bugs came too close.
She snorted, lowering her head a bit. Melia took this to be an action of curiosity, so slowly she took a polite bow.
The halla gracefully walked forward, her large belly not hindering each step she took. Melia looked in her pack, then extended her offer of sweet berries and a few slices of apple.
"Emma mirthada, mir falon." Melia gently brushed her fingers over the hallas velvety muzzle
"I always found the Dalish language to be prettier than Orlesian."
Melia froze in place, looking up to see Jean with a paint pallet.
"I must admit I did not expect to find you here…" Jean started, "I hope I didn't startle you."
"Are you making a habit out of just showing up wherever I am?" Melia asked.
"On the contrary, Lady Mahariel," Jean smiled, "My camp is just past those trees." He pointed behind him, "So I suppose it is you that is showing up wherever I am?" He cocked his head to the side.
Melia felt the color rise in her cheeks and ears. She felt as though the woven pink scarf around her neck was starting to constrict her.
"Then I suppose I will be on my way." She said quickly.
"Please…" Jean started, "I don't wish to offend."
"If you think you offend me with such a simple statement then you make me to be weaker than I am." Melia retorted. The halla next to her let out a soft bleat, nuzzling her hand for more apple.
Jean laughed, "I don't think that at all."
"Well then what do you think?"
Jean seemed amused, "Well," He started, "I think that I would very much like to know you better."
"I see." Melia said, feeling her throat dry.
"Would that be something you want?" Jean asked.
Melia thought for a moment, "It might."
"Good." Jean smiled again, "I would appreciate the company. After all, it's been some time since I've had the pleasure."
"Alright, then."
Jean held out his empty hand. Melia deftly stepped over the stream and placed her hand in his. She was almost taken aback with how soft it was, unlike her calloused fingers that constantly toiled with hard labor.
Jean led her through the forest, coming upon a small encampment with a neatly put up tent and a growing fire.
"There isn't much, I'm afraid," Jean started, going over to a canvas he had set up, "But when you travel so much you can't have many accessories, as I am sure you know all too well."
There was a low whinny over by a near tree. A blue roan Ardennes horse, tied to a tree, pawed at the ground. Melia felt her heart ache for the poor creature. She looked through her pack, ignoring whatever Jean was saying, and took out her last apple.
Standing at above 16 hands, the horse was over twice Melia's height. There was an initial uneasiness when she came closer, but it washed away when she saw it's kind brown eyes. Melia held out her flat palm letting the horse eat the apple. She watched in wonder, her ears twitching when the horse swished his tail.
Jean looked up from what he was doing, watching Melia warily pet the velvety nose of his horse. Her eyes were large with wonder and nose seemed to wiggle whenever the horse made a noise.
Melia seemed to feel his eyes on her. She backed away from the horse, cocking her head to the side when she saw how large its hooves were.
"Why must he be confined so?" She asked.
"Pomme is not like your halla. If I let him go, he will never come back." Jean answered.
"Well if you treat him as equal then why would he see reason to leave?"
"A good point, Lady Mahariel." Jean said, "Perhaps I will start letting him graze on his leisure." Then he added, "Have you seen many horses?"
Melia shook her head, "Only once. My cousin had drug us all the way to the edge of a shemlen village in Ferelden. There was a horse in the barn we snuck into...Merrill would not stop talking about it for weeks after…" She stopped, then looked at Jean, her vallaslin flashing in the firelight, "Why do you care? You are a shem, and should not ask such things of a Dalish."
Jean smiled, "Is it too forward to tell you that I am intrigued in you, Melia'nain Mahariel? And that these last few nights I've caught myself thinking of your sweet face?"
Melia felt a tingle run up her spine. One she hadn't felt since Merrill kissed her cheek when they were younger. Her cheeks grew red again, and she was at a loss for words for a moment.
"I…" Melia's throat dried up, "I suppose it would not be."
"I'm pleased you think so." Jean said.
"But I am Dalish…"
"Does it matter?"
"To the elders it would."
"Does it to you?"
Melia hesitated before answering, "Not really."
"Then that's all I need."
Melia hated herself for blushing as much as she was. She seemed to be at a loss for words.
"What are you doing?" Melia finally asked.
Jean thought for a moment, "I thought I was welcoming you to my camp? I can bring you back to your clan if you like..."
"No, no," Melia said, "The compliments, the glances...what are you trying to do?"
Jean gave a small laugh, "I suppose I am trying to say that I like you very much, Melia'nain. If I am being presumptuous I will cease my advances."
"I…" Melia tried not to stammer, "I think that you are well founded in your presumptions, Jean..."
Jean smirked at her, "Say it again." He cooed.
The change in his voice made Melia feel as if she couldn't stand.
"Jean." She purred.
Jean caressed her cheek, moving in closer to that he could take in the sweet scent of the flowery herbs she would rub into her snowy hair.
"Again." He whispered, gently holding Melia close to him.
"Jean."
Right as Melia finished saying his name, Jean kissed her. It was quick and passionate, Melia felt as if her whole body was on fire.
She indulged in the softness of his lips, her mind going seemingly numb. There was a tensity between the two once they let go of each other. For a few moments they both stood there, smiles slowly growing on their faces.
Melia looked into Jean's eyes. She found that she was losing herself. His iris' flickered back and forth between their usual bright blue and a bloody red. Melia felt light headed, almost drunken the longer she looked.
"Kiss me again, mon amour." Jean said.
Melia felt a sudden compulsion to do whatever Jean wanted. She went into his arms, offering a sweet kiss upon his lips. His hand went to the back of her neck, and at the moment of touch Melia felt like her entire body had been set in water.
"You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on." Jean said, brushing away the stray hairs from Melia's blushing face.
"Join me in my tent tonight?" He asked, whispering in her ear, "I want you…"
Melia looked up at him, her large peridot eyes glossing over, "Ma nuvenin." she said slowly, feeling almost loathe to leave his embrace.
Jean took her hand, leading Melia to the animal skin tent. He came in behind her, bending down to kiss her soft neck, pulling slowly at the pink scarf around her neck. Melia felt tingles run down her spine when Jean placed his hand on her hip.
She let out a soft gasp when he pulled her to him, her back against his chest. Melia felt the leather thong that held her hair up in its tight bun loosen, and down went the cascades of her thick white hair.
Jean's hand grazed her neck, his fingers curling their way into Melia's hair. Once he had a firm grasp, he jerked Melia's head back, nipping her exposed neck.
It was unlike anything Melia had ever felt. The way he grabbed at her, almost forcefully, felt like being trapped in a cage with a feral creature. But the sweet whispers he would mutter as he undressed her was enough to make her melt.
Jean laid her down. He could tell by her slight awkwardness that she had never slept with a man before, and he was going to make sure he was the first and last.
He met her eyes. Melia could see the flashes of red flicker in his iris'. Her body felt both numb and extremely sensitive to everything that touched her.
Jean kissed her, biting Melia's bottom lip as he pulled away. He moved down to litter kisses down to her chin and jawline. As he did so, he moved his free hand between her legs to prepare her. He slid his fingers inside, shushing Melia when she gave a surprised yelp.
"Be good, mon amour…" He whispered, receiving a quick nod in response.
He went back to kissing her neck and cooing about her defined curves and honeyed skin.
Melia wasn't used to someone touching her this intimately. She remembered Merrill sneaking off to meet her in the woods to kiss, they even saw each other naked, but it wasn't like this.
Her head swam when Jean drove his fingers inside of her. Melia was dazed, her legs feeling numb but her entire groin burned.
Jean now settled between her legs, muttering sweet nothings as he fucked her. He spread her legs wide, thinking to himself that it was only natural for a Dalish woman to be this flexible. She was being so good for him, quiet and obedient.
He knew that he hadn't had sex in quite some time, and could feel that he wasn't going to last much longer. So he went slower, watching Melia's mouth whenever he pushed himself inside. He thought of all the dirty things he could possibly get her to do, and that was enough to set him over the edge.
He buried his face in her breasts as he came into her. Not even then did Melia utter a sound, suppressing it with the biting of her bottom lip.
Jean finally fell beside her, pulling her to him possessively.
It was a long time before either of them spoke. Melia had almost suspected Jean of falling asleep until he started running his fingers over her legs.
"I think it's best if I go back to my clan for the night." She said, getting up to gather her clothes.
"Don't." He said, moving up behind her.
He brushed her hair away from her neck, kissing her shoulder.
Melia thought quickly, "What if I promise to return?" she suggested.
"I don't think I could bear any second away from you." Jean said, kissing the delicate fingers of her free hand.
"I will come back." She promised.
He pulled her back to him, her grabbed her hips, kissing up her bare back. One hand trailed over her stomach.
"But I'm a selfish man…" Jean said, his fingers slipping down to rub her clit, "I want you to myself."
Melia had to pull away, "And you would be selfish enough to have an entire Dalish clan at your camp to cut you to pieces? I think not." She dressed herself.
"Then I shall expect you tomorrow?" Jean asked.
"Yes." Melia said emptily.
"Good."