Garrett truly looked like a Viscount at the moment.
Or maybe a more rough, Ferelden-style, ruler.
The desk he sat behind, resting his interlocked hands on, was a solid thing dominating his office, everything about it bearing his mark. Orderly stacks of papers and rolls of scrolls covering much of it, quill and ink to the right of his hands, a letter opener and a seal bearing his seal on their left. It spoke of a heavy work-load, yet one under control, done in an orderly fashion, no short-cuts allowed, no mistakes allowed.
The man himself, dressed in dark trousers and a light white shirt to deal with the oppressive heat, bore no signs of wealth save a single golden ring on his right finger, which itself was more of a second seal than an actual decoration. While not cleanly shaved, everything else of him spoke of a man of discipline. From the way he sat to the way he hadn't moved a muscle during the time he'd had the story of what had transpired at the docks told to him. Disapproval was in the air, yet mixed with an air of authority that had grown ever stronger around the man during the years. His eyes, brown and hard as ironbark, simply reinforced the image, it was the eyes of one who listened...and then spoke and expected to be listened to.
Sitting in one of the two chairs at the other side of the desk, Isabela felt small under his scrutiny.
Maker, that man could curdle dairy with a glower...
"You've known what the Qunari have been looking for this entire time." It wasn't a question, yet Isabela nodded anyway. "In fact, you were the one who took it and then lead them here." Another nod. "And when I hired you to look for it, offered my resources to find it, you went ahead and looked for it with information you yourself held as well, without telling us about it, so you could steal away with it, yes? That about sums it up?" A third, pained, nod.
Next to her, in the other chair, Varric shifted in his seat.
"So tell me then..." Garrett's wide shoulders rose as he leant forward, eyes cold. "...why shouldn't I clap you in irons and send you to the Arishok?"
Isabela felt a chill run down her spine. Her mouth moving, but no answer coming. Instead it was Varric who spoke up, a protest in his tone. "Garrett..."
Garrett raised a hand, commanding silence. "No, Varric, I want to hear her answer." His eyes bore into Isabela's, nailing her to her chair as efficiently as any rope.
"I...I'm sorry, alright? I didn't-"
"Not good enough." Garrett didn't raise his voice, didn't growl or glare, yet the words struck Isabela like a punch to the gut. "We are not friends, you're a friend to some of mine, but we are not, do not try to evoke sympathy with me, Isabela. Especially not in light of what you've done, which is to endanger me and all my friends." The man leant forward ever so slightly, mouth a thin line. "Now I'm being reasonable and giving you a chance to give me a reason not to offer you to the Arishok on a platter. But you give me a reason, a good one, or we're done here."
For a split second, Isabela felt her muscles tense, fingers itching to reach down for the daggers in her boots. To run, to fight her way free, to flee. Yet Garrett was looking at her, his eyes narrowing...and Isabela felt the urge die as suddenly as if someone had drenched a fire with a bucket of icy water. She could take him, she knew she could...up close and personal, with Garrett out of armour and Varric with Bianca strapped securely to his back, Isabela would easily overpower them both and make a run for it.
Yet she didn't, and not just because something in Garrett's eyes told her she would come to regret such an action, but because everything about him seemed to forbid it. Maker damn it, when did he become so scary...?
Finally, Isabela found her voice. "I...I have more information, information that could help you find the Tome. I...could help you find it-"
"You have to be jok-"
"I have connections! Ones that you, even with your vast network, don't! You'll still find me useful!" Isabela hurried to say, a bead of cold sweat running down her spine as she stared into Garrett's suspicious eyes. "You don't have to trust me, but you know that this is true! Fact!"
Garrett stared at her.
His face showed nothing but disapproval and suspicion, her death-sentence seemingly hanging on his lips.
Isabela, taking a shuddering breath, struggled not to wipe off the sweat covering her forehead or to look away, willing Garrett to believe her, to take the risk the man she knew never would.
The moment stretched on for seconds, then minutes...
Maker, I don't know if you can hear me, but if-
Garrett interrupted her thoughts with a sudden turn of his head, cold eyes drifting to the other one in the room. "Varric?"
"Her information and help would be useful, bud." Varric replied, the wonderful dwarf keeping his tone neutral as Isabela shot him a grateful look, one he didn't return, his eyes on Garrett. "Frankly, we're almost out of leads here, and I don't have the same instincts Isabela does, her methods would complement mine." The dwarf shrugged. "It's your call, but I can keep a close watch on her, if that's the way you want to play it."
A non-committal grunt escaped Garrett at the answer as he turned his gaze back to Isabela, his elbows coming to rest on his desk as he rested his chin on his clasped hands. Viscount in all but name. Isabela had heard that whispered on the streets, but it was another thing seeing it. Dumar better watch himself...not that that'll matter if he sends me to the Qunari! Isabela swallowed, unable to even try to hide the sign of fright.
"Also, one other thing, I hesitate to mention it..." Varric muttered, sounding unsure even as Isabela sensed the opposite. You know exactly what you're doing, you card-player...
Garrett took the bait though, one eyebrow arched as he kept his gaze on Isabela. "Yes?"
"Well, you've been very strict when it comes to enforcing jurisdictions..." Varric cleared his throat even as the corner of Garrett's eyes twitched, the man already understanding what the dwarf was getting to as Isabela listened intently. "The Qunari, converts and Kossith both, aren't to be touched, and they're not to touch our citizen, it keeps the peace. Isabela has stayed here long enough to be called a Kirkwall citizen though, and Petrice and her people are already protesting about the Qunari being untouchable by Kirkwall law. What do you think will happen if you send one of ours to them?"
Garrett, not taking his eyes of Isabela, nor moving, sighed as she felt the first flutter of hope in her chest.
"Of course, you could take her to the Viscount for sentencing..." What!? Isabela whipped her head around, staring at Varric in horror. The dwarf ignored her though, eyes on Garrett. "...although I don't think either our people or the Qunari would like that. The Qunari barely tolerate the jurisdiction-rule as it is, if they got to know we hold the one who took their sacred relic, however..." A grunt and a shrug. "As for our own...well I'm sure you could handle them, but I'm just concerned that when it's revealed that one they might view as your people is the reason for the Qunari being here...well, it might get ugly."
Garrett hesitated, forehead wrinkling into a frown. "I could simply tell them that I didn't-"
"Ah yes, the reasonable answer, that always works with them." Varric's voice was heavy with sarcasm, yet then lightened up as he shrugged. "Still, your call, I'm just saying..."
"I know what you're saying." Garrett sighed, hands dropping back down onto the table, scowl aimed at Isabela, then Varric, then back to Isabela as it turned irritated. "Maker, you're annoying."
"Only when I'm right." Varric replied with a chuckle. "Which is...all the time, I admit. It's a heavy burden, I know, but I soldier on."
Isabela was too scared to smile, yet to her surprise one flickered across Garrett's features before he re-affixed his scowl on Isabela. "I don't like it." W-wait, are they actually...? Did Varric just manage to...?
"What's there to like?" The dwarf shrugged.
"Fine." Garrett grunted, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Isabela, you're going to be sticking with Varric and a number of people of his choosing at all times now."
All times!? Isabela opened her mouth in protest, then turned her head away from Garrett's scowl. "Okay."
"I didn't ask your permission." Garrett growled back. "I'm telling you what will happen." Asshole...who just spared my life. Isabela shuddered in relief even as the thought of always being watched, guarded like a prisoner, her freedom removed, made her want to retch. "You will help Varric find the Tome of Koslun, you will bring it to me, and after that, if things go smoothly, I might let you walk away from this mess of yours without further consequence."
Except for the consequence of Castillion killing me... Isabela bowed her head though, too grateful for the respite from the hangman's noose to protest, her voice a whisper. "I...thank you."
"You're welcome. Now, on to actually finding the tome, you said-"
Behind her, there was a tap on the door, and just as Isabela turned her head, she saw one of the servants, a blond elf, poke his head in. "I'm sorry to disturb, Serah, but you wanted me to alert you when lady Merrill was coming?"Ah, so she did come here! The little minx hadn't told me!
Isabela turned back to Garrett...and blinked at the sight of the man's change of disposition. His frown was gone, replaced by a wide smile, his cold eyes warming like one had put frozen wood near a fire, even his voice seemed lighter and even somewhat bubbly. "Excellent, thank you, Fenn. Take her to the library, will you? I'll be there in a moment." He turned his gaze back to Isabela and Varric, the man visibly struggling to look serious and clamping down on an unmistakable eagerness as he spoke. "We'll have to do this later...err...in fact...Varric, you go through this with Isabela and then let me know your plans and such later?"
"Sounds like a plan." Varric replied, humour in his voice as he shot Isabela a smirk.
"Yeah, that'll work." Isabela agreed, fear replaced by amusement as she noticed how Garrett was practically jumping in his seat in eagerness to leave. "Though maybe we should stay here and at least make some plans...?"
Garrett shot her a horrified look, as she'd just caught him between his sense of duty and what he really wanted to do...but Varric was faster, chuckling. "Don't be mean Isabela...it's no problem, Garrett, we'll see ourselves out and work this out, I'll talk to you later."
"Excellent, good, perfect." The man, moments ago a Viscount in all but name, now seemed more like a boy as he rose from his seat, marched around the table and offered Isabela and Varric both a firm but very fast handshake. "I'll see you both later then."
A moment later he was gone, the dignity of his station apparently forgotten in his rush to go 'reading'.
For a moment, Isabela just sat there.
Then she looked to Varric.
Who looked back, a smirk on his lips.
A moment later they were laughing, Isabela's laugh as much as one of relief as one of amusement.
8
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I should turn the page.
Garrett was sitting in his library, open book in his lap, staring at the page he was on.
I don't normally sit with one page for this long. She'll know something is wrong.
He stared at the text, but unable to focus, couldn't quite read the actual words.
On the other hand, if I turn it, I'll have no idea what I'm reading anymore...what was the book about, anyway?
It was odd, but while he'd missed his reading sessions with Merrill something fierce, he now, when he had one, couldn't focus on it. Instead he was sitting there, struggling not to shift about in awkwardness, a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest and eyes so glazed it reminded him of how Carver had been during studies with their father.
Though Carver was currently far from his mind, his eyes only glazed when looking at the book.
When they glanced to his right though, they were well awake.
Across the table holding untouched wine and cheese, Merrill was sitting.
She had her legs pulled up close to her chest, supporting the book she was reading, her eyes fixed on the text as her teeth worried at her bottom lip. She wasn't wearing her usual armour, but instead a simple dress any odd commoner in the city might wear. In fact, she'd arrived without armour more and more frequently since their talk. It was probably nothing, but Garrett liked to think she no longer felt it was needed around him. I miss how the armour looks on her legs though... Garrett blinked and looked away, eyes wide. I did not just think that.
This is ridiculous. He shot the elf another glance, watching her stare intently at the page in her book, as if trying to bore a hole through it with her gaze. Maker, she's pretty though... His chest tightened even further at the thought before he looked away. No, be rational about this, Garrett, think it through, you're being stupid.
There was a tension in the room though, one Garrett felt pressing into him, yet feared dispelling, not sure what would happen if he tried. His throat itched, wanting to be cleared, yet he dared not.
Oh right, the book. Garrett turned his gaze back to the page, staring at the indecipherable text with growing frustration.
Then the door opened.
Garrett jumped in his seat. As did Merrill, a small squeak of fright escaping her as they both turned to look at the doorway.
On the other side, Leandra was standing, much to Garrett's surprise. The woman was smiling at him, Maric sitting on his haunches next to her, letting her rest a hand on his head. "Hey dear, just letting you know I'm taking Maric for a long walk, maybe some shopping too."
"Ah, well that's...nice." Garrett replied, both irritated with the interruption as well as relieved to hear the woman was actually going outside her room. The dinner with him, her and Merrill seemed to have done her good for some reason, given her her smile back. "Be careful."
"Always am, going to take Fenn and Bastile with me, oh and Bodahn and Sandal too. Could use a few helping hands if I decide to make it a long shopping tour. Whatever I decide, don't expect me back for, oh I don't know, a good number of hours..." Leandra's smile twitched, amusement flickering in her eyes as she shot Merrill a glance. "Just so you both know."
Garrett coughed awkwardly, the back of his neck burning. "Thank you, mother, that's fine, I think we'll manage."
"Oh and Gamlen left, not sure where, since I gave him some money, he too might be gone for a good while." Oh for... Garrett, cheeks flushed, struggled to look at her mother as she smirked. "And I've put the servants on cleaning up the garden after that storm, the gardener could use the help and they're not really needed in here right now, so...just so you know."
Garrett didn't know if he should be shouting at his mother or hide somewhere, so instead he gritted his teeth and looked away, unable to face that smirk of hers. "Thank you, mother, that'll be all."
"Oh and I know how much you like to sit and read in privacy, so I've ordered Orana to ask any visitors to come back later and for any mail to be-"
"I get it, thank you, mother..." Garrett grimaced, he hadn't been so embarrassed since the day he'd been caught comparing bodies with Bethany in a lake at age eight, and that had been something innocent.
Which this is too, of course, perfectly innocent, we're just reading... In the doorway, he could feel Leandra's smirk. "Sorry, sorry, just letting you know...well, I should get to it then, day's young and so am I...so to speak." With that, the door, mercifully, clicked shut.
Thank the Maker. Garrett couldn't help to breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace and quiet, alone...with Merrill... Like that, the relief was gone, replaced by a burning anxiety and a tension returning tenfold in strength. Damn it.
He couldn't help himself, he stole a glance at Merrill, only to catch her glancing at him as well, making him cough in embarrassment even as her face turned an even darker shade of crimson than it had already been. "Well that was...interesting. I'm sorry about mother, I've got no idea why she'd have to spell out what she's doing all of a sudden."
"It's okay." Merrill replied, voice small but smile honest. "I like her, she was really nice when we had dinner with her..." The elf swallowed and looked away. "Kept asking me about my hips though..."
Of course she did. Garrett, turning red, looked away as well, glazed eyes returning to the book in his lap. "It's just..." He coughed, knowing all too well that Merrill was no dummy and knew perfectly well why Leandra would ask such things. "...her way, she doesn't mean anything with it."
A little hum escaped Merrill at that, but nothing more.
And so, silence descended upon them once more.
A tense silence.
Only broken by the infernal clock as its ticking suddenly seemed to rise in volume in tandem with the growing tension.
Tick.
Tick.
Tock.
Maker, deliver me from this agony... Garrett squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, struggled to contain the loud beating of his own heart even as the clock hammered at his ears.
Tick.
Tick.
Tock!
Something was building in him, a pressure, as if his blood was moving faster than it should, making him light-headed yet acutely aware of everything around him at the same time.
Of the little hitch in Merrill's shallow breaths.
Of the way she shuffled in her seat.
Of her fingertips caressing the paper of her book
Tick!
Tick!
Tock!
I hate you, clock, I hate you so much. Garrett couldn't really focus on it though, his ears thumping with the sound of his own heartbeat, his mouth dry as a desert, palms sweaty. Maker, feels like I'm getting sick...
TICK.
TICK.
TOCK.
Maker, I can't take this much longer! Garrett's chest was impossibly tight, making it nearly impossible to breathe. The air around him seemed to bear down on him, his heart thumping hard, demanding action...his whole body tingling with want. Want for something, anything, to relieve the pressure building up within him. Okay, calm down, there's no need to...Maker, damn it...I want, I want... He swallowed, the book in his hands creaking as his hands gripped it tighter in frustration.
TICK.
TICK.
TOCK!
Argh!
Garrett flew to his feet, the book in his lap crashing to the floor even as he spun around to face Merrill...only to find the elf on her feet as well, eyes wide as she stared at him, chest heaving with exertion like his own, as if they'd just been out running.
Garrett opened his mouth, but no words left it, the sight of the woman before him stealing his breath away.
Merrill too, tried to speak, but no words escaped her either as she slowly shook her head, her eyes widening.
Silence, unbearable silence, bore down on them.
I should...
Suddenly, Garrett's legs were taking him forward.
Ahead, Merrill was striding forth as well, fast.
The impact as the two met knocked the breath out of Garrett. Being bigger and heavier, he drove Merrill backwards even as she continued to press into him with all her might.
His arms wound around her waist, his hands moving up to roam her back even as he own arms found his neck, slim limbs wrapping around it like vines.
Their lips almost missed one another, then mashed together, a low whimper escaping Merrill as Garrett growled in frustration, wanting more.
Then Merrill parted her lips, making Garrett do the same...
Maker!
The two's groan of pleasure was almost lost in the room as Merrill's back slammed into a bookshelf, pinning Garrett's arms behind her as he, instinctively, pressed closer, his larger stature forcing her upwards and unto her toes.
With his fingers digging into her back, then hair, Garrett kissed her.
The world came to a stop.
Then rushed back, the two pulling their lips back, gasping for breath.
Maker, what did I just...? Garrett lowered his head, struggling with the storm raging within him. "W-we should stop, we-"
Merrill's left arm released his neck, her hand coming down to grip his chin, to force it up.
She kissed him, tongue darting against his...and Garrett's world spun on its axis.
Garrett's hands, sliding down, frustrated with the need to dip his head, gripped the elf by her thighs and lifted her up, making her lips release his as a gasp escaped her. "Y-yes...we sh-should...t-talk..." Her breath brushed Garrett's ear as her lips, then teeth, found his jaw, making him shudder in pleasure.
"Th-this is a bad idea..." Garrett sighed, pressing up against Merrill, pinning her to the bookshelf as his hands left her thighs and slipped further up, the rough texture of her dress frustrating him as he felt the smoothness just beneath.
"Y-yes!" Merrill's gasp was as much agreement as it was a cry of pleasure, the woman bucking against him, the body under her dress impossibly warm, a warmth washing over Garrett in waves as his hands squeezed into her flesh. "I-I'm of the pe-people a-and m-must not...!" Her legs, betraying her words, wrapped themselves around Garrett's waist.
"I'm noble, you're- Maker!" Garrett gasped, the cold of the air around them almost painful as Merrill's hands slipped down between them and pulled open his shirt. "You're...a..." His words trailed off, the feeling of the elf's hands on his bare chest sending tingles of electricity down his spine. "...a..."
"E-exactly..." Merrill agreed, legs tightening around Garrett as she pulled and tugged at his shirt to widen the opening. "Th-this is too da-dangerous-by Mythal!" Garrett's left hand, following Merrill's example, moved up, pulled apart the bodice of her dress and slipped inside. So soft... Merrill tilted her head back, voice a whimper. "W-we m-must st-stop..."
Garrett, head spinning, could only grunt. "Yes..." Dipping his head, his lips followed his hand, the smell of Merrill putting him in a daze as his lips caught a nipple.
"By Elgar'nan!" Merrill bucked, hard, nearly knocking Garrett and her both over as her hands dug into Garrett's hair, pulling him closer even as he pulled her bodice fully open, lips and hand exploring even as his remaining hand slipped down...and then in under her dress, the soft skin of her leg flexing in reaction to his sweeping touch. "I...we...we...th-this is b-bad...we...we m-must..." A sigh. "I...nuevin...nuevin na..."
The dalish words whispered into his ear just made Garrett buck back against the woman, his exploring hand finally reaching her rear once more, but this time without any barriers. "S-stop...y-yes, th-this will o-only le-lead to-" He muffled his own words, lips sliding up to trail kisses up along Merrill's slim throat as his hand squeezed a breast.
Merrill, whimpering, shivering, slipped a hand down his chest, dalish words tumbling out of her. "N-nuevin n-na...na..." A mutter, unmistakaebly a curse. "Na a-assan." The hand slipped lower, tugging, pulling, demanding. "Sa-sahlin...na assan sahlin!" Garrett groaned...and then froze, feeling her hand free him from his trousers, then her fingers around him, gentle but demanding.
M-Maker...
He looked up, finding Merrill's eyes alight with desire as she met his gaze, her lips moving in a soft whisper as her hand gripped him tighter. "Nuevin na assan sahlin..."
Garrett, trembling with pleasure, thrust forward, letting her hand guide him as he held her gaze, unable to speak, fearing to break the spell of madness over them.
As one, the two shuddered at first contact...and then Merrill's head rolled back with a sigh as Garrett squeezed his eyes shut. Maker, she's so warm and... Merrill's legs tightened around him, and Garrett thrust forth.
As one, they gasped.
8
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Thank you to Abydos Jackson for putting up with stuff like this.