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Loki x Reader - Little things do matter

Little things do matter A Loki x Reader erotic fanfic Thor and Loki are back on Earth. And while the God of Thunder is being crow...

July 12, 2011

The Pearl - DAO fanfic

Human/Elf – Mage/Mage – M/F – Lovestory – Erotic – Oneshot


“I once did a stint in a brothel like this one. Serving tea.” The bard walked up to the window and looked out, scrutinizing the immediate surroundings below. Her gaze fell right on a small L-shaped dooryard with a stone bench and a couple of loungers placed here and there, hidden behind thick, peep-proof bushes. “It was complimentary,” she mentioned casually. “And a lot of fun. The bordello queen was very nice. And educated, too. Just like Sanga.”

She turned her back on the window and crossed her arms. The dark haired blood mage pulled a thick book from one of the backpacks stacked up in the corner next to the heavy shelves and returned to the secretaire.

“Well, not everyone might be comfortable about staying in a whorehouse though this is a clever disguise. No one would suspect a Grey Warden of all people to be hiding in such a place. Many people don’t know this but every etablissement like this one has a couple of secret back rooms reserved for special occasions. It was very generous of Sanga to leave them to us.”

She pushed herself off the wall and strolled over to the secretaire. Shoving the old, dusty tomes some aside, she sat down on the table surface next to her silent companion.

Jowan browsed the index and leafed through the pages, skipping several chapters before he began reading.

Leliana watched him for a while before she leaned over and read the chapter heading aloud. “The Archons of the Imperium.” She darted him a look. “So you’re interested in history? Or is this a book about the forbidden arts?“ The bard lifted the thick stack of open pages to have a look at the inner binding. “No Chantry seal… This must be a banned book, then. It *is* about blood magic, am I right?”

“The Chantry bans many books; only a small minority is about blood magic and even fewer could serve as a valid spell collection for mages. I don’t believe that simply reading about the Tevinter Imperium, its history or culture is supposed to be illegal or many scholars and intellectuals must be branded as maleficarum just because of their historical interest.”

She wasn’t fully convinced but decided to drop the discussion in favor of her ease of mind. The young woman heaved a sigh and looked around the tastefully decorated room while letting her feet dangle before she scrutinized her reading companion thoughtfully again.

Leliana had been uneasy with the knowledge of having a maleficar in their group. After spending so much time as a lay sister and biased about blood magic, she dreaded the moment he turned up in camp, almost half a year ago – and was surprised to learn that he was a quiet and pensive young man; someone she would have never guessed to be a blood mage. He wasn’t pompous or arrogant and he certainly didn’t seem to be dangerous.

The bard had enough inside into human and elven nature to know that looks were usually deceiving. Jowan seemed to be the typical exception this time, though. His gentle if melancholy eyes caught her attention at once and it didn’t take long for her to understand that he had an equally docile personality.

There was still something odd about him. His behavior was all contrasts…

Leliana was relieved that he refused to practice something as foul and dark as blood magic and stuck to his basic knowledge about the arcane arts at all times. He was good-natured and curious about many things but he was strangely reserved at the same time and almost a little shy to approach someone – even for something as simple as a small talk. He preferred to stay away from the others though he was earnest in his try to get along with everyone. Even with Cullen and Alistair. But it was obvious that Jowan wasn’t too comfortable around warriors, especially the Templars. The only people he was more likely to trust were the other mages in their steadily growing group of followers. And one mage in particular:

Nury Surana, his childhood friend from the Circle Tower.

Their relation, however, was a little… weird. And that was another, even stranger and most likely intriguing story. A story the redheaded rogue would die to hear about; his version at least…

She noticed Jowan’s furtive, on yearning bordering looks whenever the elven woman was out of earshot. However, the moment they were on the road together he never really talked to her and simply walked at her side; quiet and looking ahead - completely ignoring her presence. But he always searched her company and remained at least in hearing distance, keeping an eye on her. He even preferred to stay in her room instead of his own, here, in The Pearl, whenever anyhow possible…

Lelianas accommodation was next door to Nury’s room on the right and with Jowan’s quarters to the left; being lodged right between the two mages bedrooms, and she would have noticed if he’d sneaked around at night, entering or leaving Nury's quarters at unearthly hours. She had expected a secret romance between the friends at first; a love affair they deliberately kept hush-hush, and she couldn’t help but listen for any noises coming from one of their rooms. Not because she enjoyed peeping on their leader or other people in general just because she was dead certain that the two were a couple.

But it was always quiet in the night. The rogue waited in vain for scuffling feet on the corridor, passing her room from either the right or the left and cautiously closing doors. She never heard treacherously creaking bedsprings, muffled moans from two voices or strange bumps against a wall or the door leaf that would hint at rather passionate activities. There were no amorous noises. Not even once.

At least not from Nury’s quarters…

Jowan always slept alone but the lack of an erotic affair didn’t exclude just every other kind of sexual activity as well. He was surprisingly vocal and his clear voice made it even easier to eavesdrop on him. Leliana was a bit embarrassed every time she heard him and his breathless little shouts, finally moaning his friend’s name at the peak of his passion.

He seemed to be in love with her; or at least immensely infatuated. But he never tried to approach or even woo her. As if he wanted to keep his feelings to himself, locking his emotions firmly away in his heart and soul, striving to be as neutral as only possible around the elf.

This strange behavior was quite a mystery Leliana would like to unveil and she spent some time thinking about the proper approach. She just needed to ask him the right questions; something that would get him to open up and talk. Though that might be easier said than done. Jowan was rather tight-lipped in emotional things and he became suspicious with too curious or too friendly approaches. As if he expected to be sounded out; something he despised and deeply disapproved of.

However, she could bother as much as she wanted. Approaching him would never be an easy task and she finally stopped mulling over the correct questions and addressed him with a simple:


„And … what?“ He looked up from the pages.

„Well… I hope that you won’t take this the wrong way but… I find myself thinking about you and your friend. Quite often, in fact.” She studied his expression.

Jowan’s face remained calm and motionless but his eyes seemed to narrow a tad.

Leliana smiled and switched to her naïve girl approach; something that worked almost every time. “You’re such a curious fellow. You always stay away from us when we’re in camp, and you never really talk that much when we’re on the road.“ She leaned forward and crossed her legs below the tabletop. “The others say that you’re her best friend. Or at least someone who had been very close to her.”

He returned her open, friendly look with a confused little frown by now before his features – and his glance – relaxed again. He opened his mouth and hesitated, obviously still thinking about a proper answer. “I know what you try to do and I… appreciate it,” he finally said in a low voice, “but I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I won’t bother you for long.” She put on an even bigger, winning smile.

Jowan leaned back with a disgruntled little sigh and crossed his arms. “Why are you so interested in this? Why do you want to know?”

The bard blinked, feigning surprise. “You can’t blame me for being curious. You’re acting so strange for a ‘best friend’. You stay at the head of our group, walking next to her though the two of you never talk... You two grew up together and after everything you and she went through aren’t you happy to be united with her again?”

She heaved a small, disappointed sigh. “She survived the abominations in the Tower, the demons that destroyed your home. Aren’t you the slightest bit relieved that she’s alive? If Nury would be my friend, I would be around her neck in an instant, thanking the Maker for smiling upon her and keeping her safe…”

“I… really don’t like where this is going…” The maleficar glanced at her for a long moment before a small jerk ran through his body. “I’m going to drop this, you know…” He buried his nose unceremoniously in the antique tome again.

Leliana needed a moment to collect her thoughts and tried a different approach: “Unlucky events might change a relationship forever. True. However, it’s not that she abandoned you or that she hates you now. Quite the contrary. I know that she only went to Haven and searched for the Urn of Sacred Ashes to be able to rescue you. It was never about the Arl. I’ve seen the haunted look in her eyes when we left the dungeons in Redcliffe. It was obvious that you meant everything to her. And now, there’s this secret shimmer in her eyes every time she talks about you and her voice is all soft and quiet, then; or the way her gaze follows you whenever she believes that you won’t notice.”

Jowan kept his eyes down and tried to concentrate on the text though his gaze was too unsteady for someone who seemed to be busy reading, and absorbed in his studies. He kept blinking and frowned a little now and then in his try to control his facial expression.

His red haired opposite studied his posture, his suddenly hunched back, how he struggled to hide his vivid mien and noticed the treacherous blush creeping into his cheeks and ears. “You’re very dear to her, and it’s not a bad thing to like her just as much, Jowan… Maybe you should just open up to those emotions and welcome them – instead of trying to hide your feelings from her. There’s nothing to be afraid of …although…” She smiled a little. “It can be a bit intimidating to pour out your heart to a very close friend. But this short moment of anxiety bears no proportion to the joy of mutual fondness afterwards. The knowledge to share the same feelings.”

He had listened to her ramblings without really wanting to and his initial puzzlement changed to sorrow. However, feelings of guilt soon replaced the pain in his look, and he shirked from her gaze. Jowan knew by instinct that Leliana was everything but the shallow person she wanted everyone to believe. She was too perceptive and sometimes, she slipped a little, unveiling more of her sharp mind and senses than she really wanted others to be aware of.

It had taken a while for him to feel comfortable around her. Someone who constantly feigned to be a completely different person smelled of trouble and dishonesty a mile away. The bard wasn’t a mean or scheming person though, and it dawned on him that her attitude might be a part of her former job. Or it was a necessary evil that had to be mastered quickly by everyone who served at the Orlesian palace; just to be able to survive the intrigues at the royal court – a behavior she was so used to meanwhile that she slipped into her role(s) automatically.

Jowan heaved a sigh. Whatever her real reasons to question him, he knew that she would have none of his excuses, knowing at once that his answers would be just pussyfooting and trivial complaints.

Besides, her musings so far had been more accurate than he was comfortable with…

She just wouldn’t stop poking around in his affairs, trying to dissect him. And his motives. Sweet-talking him into a decision he simply wasn’t ready for – neither now nor anytime soon…

The sudden commotion on the corridor interrupted his thoughts.

Both she and the maleficar exchanged a questioning look before they faced the door.

“What’s going on out there?” she whispered.

“How would I know?”

The agitated shouting came quickly closer until the two were able to recognize Alistair’s and Cullen’s voices, their hectic replies almost drowning in blood curling groans and whimpers.

“That’s the scouting party. … Something isn’t right,” Jowan got off his chair. He ran over to the door and yanked it open.

Alistair, Sten and Cullen were covered in blood and burn marks. The Templar sported a bleeding gash over his brow and the Qunari’s face was burned, his white hair singed. They dragged a squirming body into the room. A trail of blood still trickled on the ground, marking their way through the whole corridor and into the Warden’s quarters.

“Maker’s Mercy!” Leliana gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth in shock.

The other, human Grey Warden gesticulated frantically. “Out of the way!” he shouted. “Let’s place her on the bed.”

“Careful! Keep an eye on her leg!”

The ruckus alerted the others. Wynne, Zevran and Oghren came running at once, entering the room right behind the battered party, closely followed by the Mabari hound and Ser Gilmore as well.

“What happened?” the older mage asked. She had to repeat her question several times to make herself known over the hectic shouts and calls with which they placed the injured elf on her bed.

“Quick. Let me have a look!” Wynne pushed herself through the gathered companions, shoving them away with her hands and elbows.

Alistair moved away from the bed, pulling a hesitating Cullen and the stoic Qunari with him. “Let’s Wynne do her job.”

The fragile looking, old woman pulled a chair close and sat down. Her thin hands pushed the ruffled, bloodstained bedcovers away and gasped at the nasty sight greeting her eyes. Nury’s left lower leg dangled loosely with a badly shattered knee, only held by some tendons and bits of flesh.

“Sodding ancestors,” the red-haired dwarf roared. “She should’ve taken one of the mages with her, to take care of her right there and then. Let’s hope that it’s not too late to fix this mess…”

“It was an ambush. In one of the dark alleys. They waited for us with archers lying in wait and… and they had explosives! We weren’t hurt too badly but the blast almost ripped off her leg!” Cullen strode up and down in agitation before he wiped at the blood trickling down his temple with the back of his hand.

“Oh, this isn’t good,” the old mage sighed while examining the grisly wound. “I can heal her but it won’t be easy and it’ll consume a lot of my … borrowed energies.”

Jowan had stood aside, unnoticed and forgotten by the others, frozen in shock. He needed a moment to shake off his consternation. “I’ll do it.” He pushed himself past the still confused, lamenting Cullen and approached the bed.

“What?” Wynne looked up to the blood mage and studied his expression; how he stuck his chin out, eyes glinting with a sudden determination that seemed almost foreign to him.

“My basic knowledge is the same like yours. But I’m younger. And physically stronger. I can heal her witho—“

“Absolutely not!” Alistair shouted and gesticulated hectically. “You’re a maleficar. You’re not going to practice your blood magic on her.”

Nury whimpered. Her bloody hand clawed at Wynne’s sleeve. “Let… him… do this.” She groaned. “Jo— Jow-an!”

He approached her with quick strides the moment he heard her call for him – unaware of Lelianas knowing, little smile about his eagerness to be at his friend’s side.

He quickly ducked below Alistair’s arm when the human Warden obstructed his way stubbornly, slipping out of the grasp until the Templar apprentice caught his wrist and tried holding him back.

“Damn you! Let me go, you fool! We don’t have time for your antics,” Jowan shouted.

The sudden, enraged outburst was so unexpected and extraordinary for the generally quiet apostate that Alistair twitched back in utter surprise and released him at once.

“Please! This is not the time for discussions,” Wynne patted Nury’s hand still clinging to her robe. “She’s in so much pain. She needs help. And quick. But I can’t do this on my own.” Her pale, almost colorless eyes focused on the maleficar, meeting his silver-grey gaze. “Even if I’m not fond of your sinister abilities, you’ve still proven to be trustworthy.”

The elven Warden moaned and kicked with her uninjured leg. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face deathly pale and distorted in agony. “Please… Jowan…” She breathed. The pain was robbing her of her breath.

He didn’t wait until the old mage had left the chair. He knelt down at the bedside and the elf clawed at his arm, grasping his outstretched hand and clasping his fingers in an iron grip. He returned the surprising fierce clutch.

“I’m here,” he said quietly.

She continued squeezing his hand. “I… trust you,” she groaned. “I know that you’ll… succeed… I want *you* to… do this…”

A gentle expression ghosted over his features but the moment he came eye to eye with her, his brave façade threatened to crumble, giving way to his fear and anxiety. “I won’t fail. I promise!” he still whispered hoarsely.

“Pfff! Pah! You’ve never been a good mage. You’ve been an outright lousy one from all I know. She’s going to end up dead with your … loving care,” came Cullen’s mocking reply behind their backs and Jowan turned his head to face him.

“Enough! Out! All of you!” Wynne pushed everyone towards the door though she needed an extra push to get the two Templars going as well, ending the furious staring contest between Cullen and the maleficar. “Please. We can’t do anything right now. Let’s not disturb his concentration unnecessarily.”

“You… you can’t just let him do this, Wynne!” Alistair protested.

“She obviously prefers his help above everyoneelse’s. I’m not in the position to question her will or her decisions. She trusts Jowan and he’s desperate to help her. This will have to do.”


The door closed with an audible thump and the still arguing voices moved away and along the corridor, finally fading out in the distance until the Warden’s heaving, ragged breathing was the only noise in the room.

He stretched out his free hand and extended his magical feelers to the small, squirming woman on the bed. Cullen was right; he had never been a good mage. Though watching his best friend in agony, slowly bleeding to death, repressed both his hesitation and his paralyzing fear of failure. It might be only sheer desperation and adrenaline that boosted his powers right now, however, he felt the flow of healing magic entering her body, gradually shifting her broken bones and knitting her flesh.

The process was too slow. Too unsteady, too hesitating. It was exhausting to keep the flow of magic up and as strong as needed. He was already gasping and noticed with dread how rapidly his mana and energies dwindled.

“I… can’t keep this up, Nury,” he groaned through clenched teeth only a moment later.

“Is it… …it’s… …worki—” she breathed at the edge of unconsciousness.

“No… it’s… not.” He gasped and stopped.

Blood started to pool from the wound again. Jowan wiped his sweat-drenched forehead before he looked at her. “I can heal you but…”

Her glassy eyes strived to focus on his face. Nury’s hand squeezed his fingers. “Do it… then… your magic is… strong.”

He got the hint, sighed, and seemed to age a couple years at once. “Then… let’s do it… together,” he whispered and looked her in the eye while holding his hand above the bloody mass of her shattered knee and torn muscles.

The Warden was in no condition to aid him anyhow. She understood his call for help nonetheless. And nodded. Her lips trembled in indescribable pain, teeth chattering in shock and with blood loss. “Yes. …Together…”

The maleficar’s lips moved silently, breathing foreign syllables and strange incarnations, concentrating all his energies on the healing process. Her slim hand kneaded his grip still resting next to her arm, thin elven fingers clenching and unclenching around his warm hand, holding tight, her fingernails leaving crescent marks in his skin.

Jowan never felt any pain while his lifeblood was slowly draining away, or the burning little stabs of her sharp nails tormenting his fingers and palm. He kept himself focused on his task, reciting and enchanting. Her bones shifted and snapped back into place, the tendons and muscles were moving and twitching – re-growing and healing.

She panted and groaned. Her lids were fluttering; her eyes kept rolling back into her head before she tried to focus her gaze once more.

He felt the lure of the Fade at the same time; stronger than ever before. He felt the presence of lurking creatures in the room at once. Of demons, curious and hungry, attracted by his use of the ancient, forbidden magic, only waiting for a chance to pass the Veil and that Jowan would tear the barrier accidently.


“Why is it taking so long?” Alistair moved up and down.

“Just stop it. You’re walking a hole into the carpet,” Leliana protested. “And you’re making me nervous with your constant pacing.”

“We just have to wait,” Wynne said. “We will know when he’s done.”

“And how? How do we know, exactly? It’s not that he’s a physician and she’s a woman in childbirth, you know. What if he fails and she dies? I wouldn’t be surprised if he would flee, then. Either escaping through the window or doing some other, foolish things to get away from our wrath.”

“Getting away from *your* wrath, you mean?” a slightly acidic, female voice suddenly piped up from the next doorstep and everyone jumped at Morrigan’s unexpected presence.

Alistair glared at the smirking witch. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Well, everyone here knows that you still try to woo her.” Morrigan drifted closer. “But don’t waste your breath on her. She’s not interested in you.”

“Riiiiight. Thanks for telling. I really need someone like you giving me a heads-up right now.”

A couple of minutes passed in ominous, deep silence.

“Wherefrom do you know that she’s not interested in me anyway?” he asked.

The black-haired woman smiled and crossed her arms. Somehow, her smile was more intimidating than any sharp-tongued remark and her opposite shifted his weight nervously. “Just watch her when she’s together with her friend.”

“What friend?”

“The other mage, her friend from the tower.”

“What? Jowan?! Don’t be ridiculous,” he protested.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so fixated on punishing him for his mere existence all the time. Just watch them when they’re together – if you’re up to it.”

The Templar apprentice frowned. “I— I don’t know what you mean. They aren’t talking that much on the road.”

Her calm, greenish-golden glance seemed to be more unsettling than ever before. “Not on the road. In camp. Honestly, Alistair, isn’t a Grey Warden meant to be vigilant and perceptive? If so, you’re giving a rather poor example but that’s nothing new anyway.”

He crossed his arms. “Just get to the point.”

“Those two are very private people if you haven’t noticed, and it’s so sickly sweet it makes me want to vomit… but have you ever wondered whereto she disappears as soon as we’re in camp? Or that she can’t be found for hours sometimes… She’s together with her friend, then. I don’t know what they’re doing aside from talking and I don’t want to know! But the moment she leaves, he’s looking after her with a dreamy smile on his face like some moon-addled simpleton. If that isn’t love… or at least a severe infatuation… What else could it be?”

He made a face though Morrigan wasn’t finished yet. She still had another one up her sleeve and her expression revealed that she thoroughly enjoyed kicking a man when he was down, especially when Alistair was the one hitting rock bottom:

“Just you wait, Alistair. He’s going to make his move soon, either being so drippy to declare his undying love or at least bedding her.”

“Oh great. Forget I asked,” he groaned and retreated into the background, careful not to look someone in the eye after picking up a faint chuckle that sounded suspiciously like Zevran’s voice.

Wynne’s attention remained on the door, uncaring about the verbal exchange around her. She slowly rose from the bench at once.

“What’s happening? Is she fine again?” remarked the Antivan elf. “This surely took its time.”

“I’m not sure…” the old woman whispered.

She moved over to the room with Leliana close on her heels and opened the door as quiet and cautious as possible. “Oh Maker,” the grey haired mage sighed and pushed the door fully open.

“What’s going on? Is she alright?” The bard moved past her and entered the room first. The coppery stench of blood was overwhelming. She gagged and coughed before she ran over to the window and opened it.

Wynne moved over to the limp, brunette figure that had passed out over the elf’s body. Nury was asleep, her features relaxed and free of any pain, her breathing even and deep.

“Oh, you foolish boy,” she sighed and glimpsed at the Warden’s hand still resting between Jowan’s slack fingers before she grasped him at his shoulders, pulling him gently back. His skin was cold and sweaty, his face ashen.

The old woman had dealt with more than enough maleficarum by now to know what had happened. Sometimes, a blood mage overestimated his physical health while practicing his magic, killing himself accidently in the process,though those grave mistakes only tend to happen to the inexperienced, over-eager and very unlucky ones… and, despite her personal issues with Jowan, she hoped that he was alright – for Nury’s sake.

Wynne placed her palm on his forehead before she checked his pulse.

“Is he—?”

“No, he isn’t dead. But he is severely exhausted. He sacrificed a lot of his life energy to heal her. Let’s hope that it wasn’t too much.”


Everything seemed to have changed after healing her with his blood magic…

There had been a couple of jokes on Jowan’s expense but the elf’s nasty looks usually silenced the mockery at once. She had zero patience for her comrade’s silly behavior right now and was more concerned about her friend’s well-being than her companions’ hurt feelings. Jowan needed time to recover and she insisted to be at his side, keeping him company and making sure that he took it easy and refrained from exhausting himself any further, be it either magical or through too much physical activity.

However, staying together with him all day long made her soon aware of his constant side-glances and his sudden desire for closeness; and not only in his room but every time they had a stroll in the park-like gardens as well...

The black-haired man was of average built for a human but the elf was a bit small for her kind and he towered over her almost a whole head. She still insisted that he leaned on her, and he accepted the offer without the slightest complains.

Her brows shot up in surprise. He could be very stubborn and difficult sometimes and she already expected him to disagree, telling her that he wasn’t old and fragile and could still walk on his own. This time, though, he nodded his assent and linked arms with her at once.

Nury’s supporting hold at his forearm forced them to walk very close to one another;something they kept up even when he was able to take the stroll without buckling knees or stumbling. It was only a few days since he drained himself with the healing spell. He was still a little pale and fairly quickly fatigued. Jowan had to sit down on a bench for a while before they were able to return inside but he wasn’t gruff or depressed over his physical condition. In fact, she couldn’t remember him smiling so often before. Or how his face lightened up whenever they were together; the warm glint in his eyes every time their looks met.

And instead of linking arms any longer, her fingers sneaked around his waist at some point – only to steady him, of course – while his hand came to rest on her opposite shoulder, holding her in a loose embrace.

Both of them would have denied that their leisure walks twice a day were anything but a mere exercise to condition him again – if it wasn’t for their flushed faces and slightly flustered state giving their strong affection away.

The others were rather quick to notice their leader’s close link to Jowan and that he was indeed special to her. Everyone left them discreetly alone whenever possible, granting them their privacy. Even Alistair who was the most passionate naysayer and opposing her maleficar friend at every possible and impossible opportunity stayed miraculously away this time.

He never approached them directly again after his fellow Warden’s healing, a habit he had taken to since Jowan’s conscription. And he stopped watching the two mages from his observation point at the canopied garden gate the moment he witnessed how Surana clasped the blood mage’s waist while the brunette men moved closer to the elf, returning the gesture before he placed his hand on her shoulder.

The former Templar apprentice let them be and retreated, obviously minding his own business now and much to Morrigan’s utter amusement.

- A week later -

Leliana and Nury were alone outside, sitting on the stone bench in the small dooryard behind The Pearl, right below the Warden’s room on the second floor. Both women enjoyed the warm sunshine. The elf played with a stick, throwing it for her Mabari, Slayer, now and then to keep her hound happy and busy.

“Do you mind a personal question?” the red-haired bard asked suddenly.

“Depends on what you have in mind,” Nury wiggled the short, sturdy branch and Slayer stood to full attention in front of her, wagging his short tail frantically.

Leliana smiled softly. “Oh, nothing indiscrete. I’m just curious.”

The elf threw the stick as far as she could and her dog dashed after it with an enthusiastic, happy bark, showering the two women on the bench with little stone chips and dirt.

“You’ve come to a decision about Jowan yet?”

Nury darted her a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“You’re tormenting the poor guy,” the bard chuckled. “I would never dare to tell you what to do but… haven’t you noticed? He’s outright glowing in your presence meanwhile. He’s going crazy if you won’t make a move soon.”

The Warden chuckled as well before she tried to be more serious again. “He isn’t the only one glowing, Leliana, believe me…”

“Then what are you waiting for?!”

“I’m… I…I don’t know. Maybe I’m waiting for the perfect moment though I wonder if it ever will be perfect. Not that I want him to confess with a bend knee in front of me. Both of us aren’t the types for kitsch, we just want it to be right, I guess. But we’re always interrupted and disturbed one way or the other. Somebody just has to knock and entereventually… and if it’s only the chambermaid. Or the mutt scratching at the door, wanting to be let in.”

A hurt whine resounded in front of her.

“Oh, come on! Don’t play the little innocent. You know that you disturb us. And you do this on purpose. Bad dog.”

Slayer hung his head and whined ruefully this time.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. I’ll like you just as much afterwards as I do now. And I really want to be with him.”

A timid, little bark.

“He likes you as well, you know that! Besides, with both of us being together, you’ll have two friends to play with and for throwing sticks. What about that?”

The Mabari wagged his tail like crazy and started jumping around, barking happily.

“Off you go now. Here, fetch!” Nury threw the stick again and the massive war hound darted after it with even louder barking and yelping.

“Erm…” The elf coughed. “I, err… wouldn’t be surprised if he finally returns with Jowan in tow, shoving him on my lap or doing something equally crazy. You still remember when Slayer came back with that little boy on the marketplace, right?”

“Oh Maker! Don’t remind me. That was so embarrassing.”

They laughed and giggled.

There was a longer pause before the redhead continued. “Well, where were we? Ah, yes, the disturbances… You noticed the little, red scarfs hanging from hooks next to every door, yes? Just knot one around the door handle if you want to be alone. And if someone is ignorant of the scarf’s meaning and still wants to enter, a maid, one of the servants or even one of the workers will prevent him – or her – from bothering you two.”

The Warden raised a brow. “The scarf surely means some private activity. Like… being busy with one of the workers?”

“So what? I don’t know how passionate you two are going to be but don’t expect the walls to be fully soundproof. Our quarters aren’t like the regular guest rooms, you know.”

Nury turned beet-red. “Oh!” she called out. “Oh… uh… well… So we’re… ah… going to broadcast our first night together anyway?”

They looked at each other and finally started giggling in a mixture of embarrassment and dare.

“I don’t think that I mind if others might hear our moaning. The whole group already knows that there’s something going on between Jowan and me.I defend him at every turn and had more fights with Alistair and Cullen since Jowan’s conscription than in my whole life in the Tower before. As if I’m just waiting for them to make a smart comment to be able to make myself perfectly clear again, about where my loyalty lies. Even Wynne is giving me odd looks meanwhile. And I don’t want to keep our relationship secret. I’m not ashamed about being together with Jowan and striving to keep it hush-hush would only suggest that I’m embarrassed about my feelings – or about my mate. And I’m not. Never. Besides, I won’t be able to stop myself from darting him certain looks or stealing kisses whenever possible.”

Upstairs appeared a figure behind the window to Nury’s room. The two women never noticed that someone was present in her quarters right now and how the figure cracked the window a bit. The curtains moved and swayed slightly before the silhouette disappeared again.

The maleficar sat down at the chess table and began a solo match, enjoying the warm air, listening to the bits and pieces of conversation below, smiling a little now and then. He paid more attention when one of the girls mentioned his name and - instead of playing -he turned and tilted his head towards the window gap, eavesdropping:

“You and Jowan… you two ever kissed before?” Lelianas voice resounded from below just then.

“Y—yes. Not like a couple but we used to exchange pecks on the cheek or forehead when we were younger.”

“What about now?”

The elf shook her head. “We… stopped kissing. Maybe two, three years ago.”

The bard was serious again. “Oh,” she breathed. “May I ask why?”

The blood mage still remembered their little ‘incident’ and a sad smile tugged at his lips. The moment his friend’s voice reached his ears again, he leaned further back against the wall and listened carefully to her version, curious if she remembered it just as clear as he did:

“I once raised my head the moment he lowered his. Maybe both of us wanted to give each other one of those little kisses on the forehead. As an elf, I’ve always been noticeable smaller than Jowan, and that very moment… when we obviously had the same impulse at the same time… instead of me kissing him on the forehead or the other way round – our lips met.”

“And then?” Leliana listened attentively.

“We parted. At once, when we noticed our clumsy mishap and looked at each other in surprise. I can’t remember how long it took… maybe two, three seconds maybe less… but he leaned forward again. And that time, he kissed me for real. It was such a soft kiss. And so… tender. I thought I would melt away any moment.”

“Aww. That’s so romantic.” The redhead smiled. “And then?”

“We hadn’t had any experience, neither with kissing nor otherwise. None of us dared to engage into something more serious. But I really wanted more. I had the urge to snuggle into him, to deepen the kiss. … I really wanted to and I think he wanted it just as well though we never did. And when we parted after a moment and faced each other, that was the moment Jowan wasn’t any longer just a very dear friend. I noticed him as a male being first and last. As a… potential lover and life partner or whatever you prefer to call it. I’m not sure if he was aware of my interested glance or my changing behavior around him, that I tried to flirt but he… …he retreated from me somehow. At least …inwardly. And we never kissed again.”

“You two grew up together and you became a very womanly being in his eyes at once. Maybe he was just insecure about what to do or and puzzled about the sudden and rather drastic change. Being friends or being intimate with someone is quite a difference.”

“Maybe.” Nury sighed. “I just wished we had deepened our relationship right then and there but I was afraid to urge him into more than he was willing to give. I didn’t want to lose him.”

She and her red-haired companion stayed quiet for some time.

Jowan gazed into space. He still remembered the sudden desire he had felt for her the moment she gave him that longing look after their timid kiss and how ashamed he had been about those feelings. She was his best friend; lusting for her was as if he would defile their relationship.

However, his feelings never returned to their former, innocent state. He only succeeded in suppressing his wishes and emotions more or less over the last few years.

But his desire had changed to something much deeper meanwhile. It wasn’t just about lust, he yearned for her. It took a while but he finally accepted that his desire wasn’t something bad or dirty he should be ashamed of but something completely natural: he loved her. Platonically at first and under the pretense of regarding her as a sister replacement of sorts, though it had been years since he last thought of her as some kind of relative: The skinny elven girl with the red pigtails had long turned into a pretty, little woman he admired and worshipped in secret. And he needed her! He craved her closeness by now.

Both of them had been clueless teenagers at the time of their first kiss. They were both adults now. And he wanted to be with her, more than ever before…

“You two should really make your moves. And soon,” he heard Lelianas voice again. 

“Now that shouldn’t be too difficult. I … guess.”

A pause.

Jowan turned some around and grasped the window frame cautiously, opening it a tad wider to be able to understand them better.

“I don’t want us to be prepared in any way. I don’t want it to be happen like done on schedule… maybe having a dinner first, a gentle talk and finally the seduction. I’ve always wanted it to happen spontaneous. Out of a very ordinary situation if you know what I mean. That one action leads to the next. That we’re suddenly in each other’s arms, embracing and kissing and cuddling, caressing each other until we’re so hor— …until we’remaking love as if there would be no tomorrow. Not like rutting animals or as quick and rough as possible but that we’re able to abandon all inhibitions, then, giving ourselves to each other, completely and utterly.”

“Your fingers are trembling, Nury,” the redhead remarked softly.

“And my voice too, I guess.”

“Yes. A little.”

“I… just can’t help it. Just thinking about it drives me crazy. I want him.”

Her friend upstairs took a slightly shaky breath. He suddenly felt hot all over and closed his eyes, choking back a faint groan.

“Then do it! Stop tormenting yourself AND him. Just… do it. This evening.” Lelianas voice piped up again. “Invite him to your room or simply go over into his and … get going. You two are so worked up meanwhile you really should relieve each other of this … agony. And don’t you dare to care if you’re loud or not, just… enjoy it. Andraste’s holy knickers, this is a whorehouse! The workers, and Sanga, are used to hear very passionate noises from time to time. Besides, he’s a man; he’s going to be proud of himself and his performance when he’s able to make you scream.”

Nury’s abdomen contracted and heat started to pool in her loins. She chuckled but it sounded a little breathless. “Right. I keep that in mind.”


The elf strolled through the gardens next to the brothel, deeply lost in thought. She mused about how and when it should happen – and about Jowan’s reaction as well. She just couldn’t stretch up on the tip of her toes, simply greeting him with a passionate kiss and an embrace the moment he stood on her doorstep.

She grinned. That might be the easiest solution though she wasn’t sure if that wouldn’t overwhelm and intimidate him somehow.


Nury soon returned to her room and decided to have a bath. Soaking herself in hot water was a luxury after staying in camp for so very long, only being able to have a quick scrub with cold stream water or a dump in a muddy pond now and then.

She played with the sponge, soaking it and squeezing it again, enjoying the warm gush over her skin. Her mind was still busy with her friend and she placed her head against the small headrest in her back, closing her eyes if only for a moment…

…and opened them wide again with the rapping at her door and sat up with a violent jerk. Water sloshed onto the floor with her abrupt movement, soaking her towel and slippers.

“I… just a moment!” She glanced around the dimly lit room. The candle next to her was almost burnt down into the holder, a small, flickering light in the darkness surrounding her. She had fallen asleep and shuddered in the now cool water.

She jumped out of the bathtub and slipped in the puddle, flailing her arms to prevent herself from falling before she stepped on the squelchy towel. She quickly grabbed a thin bathrobe from a chair nearby and pulled it over her dripping wet body.

Still fumbling with the belt, she stopped on the doorstep to her bedroom. It was already dark outside and Nury lighted a couple of candles along the walls with quick waves of her fingers before she dashed over to the door, yanking it open, half expecting her visitor to be gone again.

Jowan had raised his arm, ready to knock another time and lowered his hand now, greeting her with a smile before he became aware of Surana’s changed appearance and looked along the elves body. His smile vanished gradually, changing to a wide-eyed and rather breathless gaze. His Adams apple bobbed with an audible gulp. The silken gown clung to her still wet skin, accentuating her heavy, full breasts, a flat stomach and a slim waist merging into rounded hips.

“Should I come back later?”

“No, come in, Jowan.” She stepped aside to let him in.

He stopped after a couple of slow almost hesitating steps and turned around to her. The softly lit room created an intimate atmosphere. The soft shadows and the yellowish glow of the candles should have calmed his nerves somehow. His body, however, reacted quite different. He suddenly felt excited. And fidgety. He hadn’t forgotten about her conversation with Leliana and she had prepared her quarters accordingly, making them comfortable and suited for a romantic togetherness.

The blood mage took a deeper breath and looked around as if it was his very first visit to hide his growing nervousness and anticipation. He noticed Nury’s approach from the corner of his eye and faced her. She smiled warmly at him and pointed over to their favorite place in front of the lit fireplace; the small leather couch with the fluffy rug in front of it.

Jowan moved over to his usual seat but instead of sitting down, he just stood there and watched her approach. The Warden’s hair was still damp, the ponytail gone, wearing her dark red braids down this time. The reddish earrings glinted with every move, dangling ever so little. His attention focused on her slightly jiggling breasts. The royal blue gown revealed not much but still enough to exalt his imagination.

The partly visible cleavage and the ample roundness of her bosom exposed more of her feminine curves than ever before. He just couldn’t stop himself from glimpsing at her chest repeatedly, unconsciously moistening his lips before he realized how lewd the small gesture must come across and sat down. He stared into the flickering flames and hoped that the sudden rush of blood coloring his cheeks wasn’t too obvious.

Nury took her place next to him and studied his profile with the too big, beaked nose and the lush bottom lip, further accentuated by his slight underbite. His always disheveled looking hair. Jowan was anything but handsome. She had heard more than enough whispered, giggling comments about his looks – in the Tower and in camp as well. Most people regarded him as mediocre when they were friendly or as much less when they were nasty. But to the elf, her friend was the most attractive man she’d ever met.

And no one knew him as intimately as she did…

The Warden decided to take it slow and slipped some closer to him. He turned his head with the slight shift on the upholstery, regarding her with a questioning look – and she stilled her move, looking him in the eye, unsure about how to proceed.

Surana cursed herself inwardly for her insecurity. Maybe Leliana was right… maybe they were friends for simply too long. Overcoming the growing inhibitions seemed almost impossible. She wanted to be with him but there was something like an invisible barrier between them, a mental wall, separating them somehow. She’d never been closer to him before and it still seemed to her that a continent kept them apart from one another…

She studied his tensing expression. He rubbed his hands together in an almost thoughtful manner, glancing down to his fingers, bottom lip partly sucked between his teeth, worrying it with his incisors. She saw the twitching of his lashes hinting at the unsteady glances aiming here and there.

The elf wasn’t sure if his nervousness stemmed from her unusual appearance and the fact that she was naked below the thin silken garment or if he already sensed her intentions. She felt a certain tension in the air, however, something that had them both a little on edge by now.

Surana almost shook her head in disbelief. She opposed knight-commander Greagoir without the slightest flinch or tremble in her voice after Jowan’s escape, fronting him with bold and rebellious comments, provoking him and further fuelling his anger. She never batted an eye while dealing with Flemeth’s dragon form… but when it came to expressing romantic feelings she was all clumsy and insecure, dreading to say or to do the wrong things.

But she had to say something to get their oddly faltering conversation going. To get just somewhere at first before she would be able to steer their talk in the wanted direction. And so she took a deep breath, opened her mouth and…

“There’s something…” they piped up at the same moment.

Both mages grinned a little sheepish and waited for their opposite to continue, only to start over simultaneously again: “You first…”

They chuckled.

Nury waited demonstratively for him to begin. It still took a while until Jowan finally spoke. “There’s something I would like to … well… ask.” His voice grew a little unsteady and he coughed quietly several times.

He shirked from her gaze and looked into the flickering flames again, still rubbing his palms against one another before he dropped his arms on his thighs and leaned forward.

“I should have done this month’s ago,” he continued quietly. “But every time I tried I… just didn’t know how or what to say.”

He sounded a little breathless. She was aware of his agitation and slipped wholly over to sit next to him, placing her hand on his forearm in her try to calm him down again. Her touches had always soothed him, no matter if it was before a test or when they had to cast a particularly difficult spell as apprentices... Or like only some days ago, on their way to Denerim, when he was scared stiff at the sight of the first ogre he’d ever seen while the monstrous, towering giant had stomped in their direction, charging like a raging bull.

Her touch seemed to churn him even more up emotionally this time. She heard the hard thumping in his chest and saw the quickened pulse at his neck.

“What is it, Jowan?” She lowered her voice to a soft whisper. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

Her heart was beating just as hard and quick by now. Sitting so close to him had never been such a bittersweet agony. She was aware of her desires and suddenly felt ashamed of her feelings. It just wasn’t right to be lusting after him like a trollop, eager to spread her legs. The physical aspect of their relationship wasn’t everything and should never be the most important part in their cohabitation. Passion cooled down over time, it would become repetitive and more of a custom over the years. Love and trust was the only thing that would endure and that would be able to bind them together for long.

The elf still couldn’t help that her body reacted so strong to his presence. Every fiber of her being seemed to be alive, ablaze with a passionate fire; the urge to surrender to her bodily needs was maddening. She chewed on her bottom lip to prevent herself from blubbering something inappropriate in the end, rubbing slightly back and forth along his forearm in her try to ease both their tensions.

Jowan looked down to her stroking fingers before he placed his hand on top of hers, gently stilling her move. His thumb caressed the back of her hand.

They looked at each other like on a secret sign.

There was a mute yearning in his eyes. An emotion so raw and intense that it took her breath away.

She returned his look, unable to speak or to think, ensnared by his deep, intense gaze. His pupils were noticeable dilated, leaving only a small ring of grey around them, turning his eyes dark and shimmering. His facial expression revealed his inner turmoil; his urge to talk and spill his guts. Her other hand felt unconsciously around, brushing his elbow before she ran her palm over his back and slowly up, along his shoulder.

Her friend remained silent. He just looked back and forth between her eyes before his glance darted to her mouth and back up. His features relaxed gradually again before his soft grasp around her fingers tightened some and he leaned slowly into her path. Surana raised her chin in a mixture of instinct and expectance. Their lips touched with a soft kiss. And it was over before it really began. Jowan took his head slightly back and her fingers clenched around his hand in an instant, pulling a little in her mute request for more.

The maleficar leaned forward again. Not as reluctant as mere seconds ago but still not as determined as she wanted him to be. Their second kiss wasn’t much longer than the first. He barely left her lips when Nury seized the initiative. Her mouth moved against his, caressing his lips, her body grew all soft and ready to melt into his embrace - and noticed how his back went rigid.

Jowan ended the kiss, parting from her.

His movement wasn’t abrupt or otherwise quick but it still seemed that he was uncomfortable with her all too willing approach. Maybe she was too direct. Too wanton… She blushed furiously with burning embarrassment and shame and swallowed with a sudden, suffocating lump in her throat, looking away and avoiding his eye...

…Only to feel soft fingers at her chin next, the gentle touch that turned her head around again before his palm cupped her cheek, stroking her burning skin. It was Nury now who looked to and fro between his eyes until Jowan approached her without the slightest hesitation, pressing his mouth fervently on her lips this time.

He shifted closer and clasped the elf’s face with both hands, kissing her repeatedly. He was desperate and frantic. Hungry. Impetuous. The crackling of the fire mixed with the faint creaking of the leather couch and his sucking kisses planted on her lips and cheeks while she responded just as eager.

Until he suddenly let go, taking his hands back and straightening up. She blinked, confused over his unexpected retreat.

Both of them were breathing hard.

“Maker, I’m sorry,” he gasped out, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to—“

“Shhh,” the Warden placed her fingertips on his lips. “It’s okay, Jowan.” Faint laughter danced in her eyes and she couldn’t stop smiling. Hadn’t he noticed that she kissed him just as keenly back? “I want it too.”

“I… wanted it to be special. Something for you to remember. Not like an… assault.” He made a face.

She stroked his cheek and leaned into his path. He was gentler and calmer this time. She returned the tender kiss until they had to part when he embraced her. She rested her glowing face at his shoulder, fondling his chest while he held her in his arms. Listening to the quickened beating of their hearts, she ran her fingers up and down his arm while he caressed her burning hot cheek.

“I always wanted this between us,” she finally whispered into the silence. “Since our first kiss, in the Tower. But you always seemed to be so… distant. So… uneasy with the idea of a romantic relationship.”

“Not that it was easy to resist you,” he said just as quietly. “But I feared that we might’ve had only one night; that you might’ve been disgusted afterwards, maybe even angered that it had gone so far... Overstepping such an invisible boundary could ruin even the most special of friendships forever and I was terrified of losing you. No matter how strong my feelings were… our friendship was the most precious thing I had and that alone was more important to me than everything else.”

Jowan brushed her forehead with his lips.

“It’s been such a long time since you’ve kissed me like this…” She smiled and looked him in the eye. “How long? Three, two years?”
“We were sixteen, then. When we … you know.”

“Four years?” Nury breathed. “It’s unbelievable how the time went by. I still remember it so clearly.”

“You and me both.”

She kissed his cheek and he leaned into the gentle, lingering touch while her fingertips brushed along his other cheek. “I want to be with you,” she whispered. “I need you, Jowan. I want to be yours.”

It took a moment until he answered and when he did, his reply was barely audible. “I want that too.”

He leaned slightly down and raised her chin, kissing her again. They took their time, exploring each other’s mouth leisurely with soft pecks and gently moving lips. The tip of her tongue traced his upper lip. She felt the answering nudge and he entered her willingly opening mouth.

She caressed his face before her hand moved along his neck, raking her fingers through his hair, their tongues sliding and gliding, engaging into a slow and erotic dance.

Both of them were soon breathless with excitement and had to part.

“Tell me when I’m too demanding. I don’t want to urge you to something you aren’t ready for.”

“You won’t,” she kissed him again. “I’m ready for… everything.”

Jowan suckled at her bottom lip before he teased her with the tip of his tongue. “You’re sure?” he whispered at her mouth. “My mind is already half an hour or so ahead of our actions.”

“So you already undressed me in your mind’s eye…” Another peck.

“Pretty much, yes. And… what about your fantasy? Right now?”

“We’re already on the rug. Naked. Making love.” She fiddled with the clasp under his neck until it opened with a faint metallic snap and pushed the wrap off his shoulders.

“Maker, you’re quick with your imagination,” he whispered. “And who’s on top? You or me?” The blood mage turned around until his back rested against the seat back before he pulled her on his lap.

“You are on top.” Nury straddled his hips, careful not to wedge the gown between their bodies and sat down on his thighs. The silken belt came loose and her bathrobe slipped open, partially exposing her naked body below.

His gaze darkened further. “And how does it feel, Nury? Is it exciting to have me inside?”

She shuddered with the heat wave running through her body at his quiet words, her skin suddenly glowing from head to toe and her big breasts swayed with the unintentional move. The heat pooling in her loins oozed out in a small, almost watery trickle, leaving a dark, damp spot in his robes. “You… make me moan.”

He groaned softly. His hands moved over her shoulders and along her collarbones, fingers sliding below the soft garment, pushing it gradually open. The silk slid along her nipples like a caress, causing the reddish tips to harden even more.

The exquisite bathrobe wasn’t hers but came as a part of their luxury housing. The elf toyed with the idea to keep it after their departure, as a reminder of their first night together. To have something special she could wear for him whenever they were in the mood for tender reminiscences, engaging into their lovemaking with a whispered ‘you still remember Denerim? Our room in The Pearl and how we made love that very night?’

Her thoughts derailed with the sensation of hot, silken soft palms running along her shoulders and how the thin fabric slipped down with a rustling whisper, landing on the rug behind her, fully exposing her nudeness.

His features froze, gaze darkening with abruptly surging passion. Nostrils now flaring with each breath, he leaned forward, planting soft kisses on her naked bosom. His thumbs circled her erect nipples and he glimpsed into the Warden’s face before his tongue ran over her skin like a damp, soft tickle. She looked at him, how his mouth moved lower, finally giving one of her stiff nubs a tentative lick.

Nury arched in his direction, a mute approval, asking him to continue. She watched his lips closing around the sensitive, erect bud and moaned quietly at the sensation, the moist sucking and how his tongue played with her nipple. His body moved below her. He curved his loins up and forward, striving to meet the junction between her thighs while he switched over to the other breast, licking, lavishing and suckling there, too.

Surana tilted her head back, churning his hair up at the same time. She had never expected… this. That he would be so skillful, demonstrating more experience than she had in the ways of physical love. She closed her eyes with another swirl of his moist, soft tongue around her nipple; teasing her until her skin seemed to tingle from head to toe with the stimulation. Another gasp left her mouth.

“Oh Maker! Jowan…” She groaned softly. Her fingers clenched in his hair and he answered with a long, sighing exhale.

The elf slipped forward on his thighs and tilted her abdomen until she felt him through his robes. His member was hard as steel. Jowan left her bosom to grasp her hips instead, pulling her against his body, moaning quietly with the strengthening pressure of her crotch against his swollen manhood.

Nury heaved a shuddering sigh. Her head sunk back. She grasped his shoulders, loins rolling gently, rubbing herself at his erection. He steadied her for a moment and looked up into her face, finally guiding her hips into slow, stroking moves.

The elf couldn’t wait any longer. She looked at him, breathing his name, wheezing at the lust in his eyes. She leaned down, cupping his glowing face, aiming for the parted, panting lips, kissing him deep and hungry. Her body moved slower and finally stilled, pushing her womanhood against his lap. He throbbed between her thighs, his hands rubbed up and down her back before they moved to the front, kneading her breasts. Surana’s fingers slipped behind his back at the same time, fluttering up and down, searching for a lacing or straps. She brushed the row of buttons several times before her fingertips wandered upwards, finally reaching the neckline and the first stud, undoing the button tape one after the other.

“Get up, just for a moment,” he whispered at her mouth and she steadied herself, knees wobbly with excitement and got up. He pulled the garment over his head and dropped it unceremoniously to the ground before he settled back again.

The Warden’s eyes raked over his equally naked body surprised that he didn’t wear any small clothes.Her attention rested on his lap, on the proud erection pointing along his heaving belly. She swallowed. He wasn’t too big but still impressive compared to a delicate person like her, and she imagined what it would feel like to have him inside. If it would hurt when he penetrated her, pushing against her inner walls and filling her.Stretching her. She wasn’t even sure that he would wholly fit…

She kneaded her breasts when his hand appeared in her peripheral vision, fingers closing around his shaft. She squeezed her thighs together the moment he stroked himself. Slow and gentle, watching her expression the whole time, her reaction to his self-pleasuring tease before his attention focused on her shaved pussy.

Nury gasped, aroused with his shameless display and turned the table. She ran caressing fingers over her mound and along her nether lips, stroking up and down several times before she spread herself open. Just a bit, allowing him a glimpse at glistening, rosy folds and was promptly rewarded with a low moan before she took her hand away again.

The urge pulsing in her crotch was unbearable. She got down on her knees, right between his thighs and placed a hand between her legs, playing with her nub. He wanted to take his hand away and she quickly grasped his fingers, stilling his movement.

“No. Don’t. Show me,” she asked.

The dark-haired mage grasped himself tighter, then, moving his fist in unison with her strokes. She breathed heavy and fitful, watching him running his fingers up and down his length. The damp slipping between her legs turned soppy.

“Maker, you’re wet,” he groaned.

Her attention was glued to his fist and he pulled the foreskin back, exposing a shiny purple head throbbing with the next, twitching contraction and a glassy drop oozed out. Nury leaned forward, tasting him before she ran her tongue all the way up and down and around the swollen tip.

Her gasps mixed with his needy pants and the squishing in her lap. Flicking the tip of her thumb back and forth over her clit, she took him into her mouth and glanced up into his face. His half-closed eyes seemed to glaze over. Jowan raised his abdomen, entering her mouth with a slow thrust before he pulled back again. She countered the leisure strokes with a rhythmically bobbing head until he placed a hand behind the back of her head and stilled her movements.

She felt him sliding back and forth between her lips and tried to suck every time he pulled partly out. It didn’t take long until she had found her rhythm. He grew even harder and she glimpsed along his body. He had closed his eyes meanwhile to better enjoy the sensation of her sucking mouth, only to tilt his head back with a groan, still thrusting.

His reaction excited her only more. She played with his swollen testicles and noticed how they tightened and pulled up gradually; until she heard a faint whisper too breathless and incoherent to understand what he said. He stopped and held still, throbbing. Another slick drop oozed out and she licked it off. Her jaw got painfully numb meanwhile and she had to stroke him with her fist instead.

Her attention switched to his distorted face. She’d never seen her friend like this. She drank in his sight, listened to his heaving breaths while he watched her with a deep, lidded gaze meanwhile. Her heavy breasts swayed with her rapidly moving arm, hand slipping quickly back and forth between her thighs.

Jowan moved her other arm resting on his thigh up and down again, pleasuring himself with her hand. The elf stared at their intertwined fingers. Both of them were panting heavily.

“J— Jo…Jowan…”

She closed her eyes with a deep moan and the noise went straight into his loins. He answered with a short, fierce gasp and had to stop. He was getting too close already. Her fist clenched around his manhood, squeezing him.

The blood suddenly shot into her face and she gasped aloud. A shudder ran through her small frame, her lips quivered. “I… I cum,” she wheezed and straightened up in a hurry, straddling his hips hectically and pushed him against her womanhood.

“I cum… ohMakerfeelmelove, feel me… co—coming.”

She lowered herself with an impetuous thrust. She was so slick that he penetrated her at once and slipped deep inside. Jowan gasped with the sensation of her inner walls clamping down around him; the heat and wetness engulfing his length.

The elven woman panted and wheezed, loins rocking slightly, a finger still on her clit, riding out her climax. The pulsing around himgrew weaker and turned to sporadic, slight throbs. She still seemed to need a moment to come down from her orgasm. He pulled her forward and against his body, caressing her reddened face and heaving bosom, kissing her ever again with soft lips until she finally returned his tender kisses and straightened up on top of him.

He regarded her growing initiative as the signal to continue. Jowan slipped deeper into the cushions and she leaned forward to accommodate herself to the changing angle while holding tight at the backrest. His hands clasped her butt before he grasped her waist instead, helping her into a gradually quickening pace, riding him.

He tried to joined in with thrusting counter moves and had to stop repeatedly, unable to find the correct rhythm.

“Wait,” he panted and straightened up again. “Let’s do this differently…”

Surana climbed down from his lap and he got up. She seated herself on the edge of the couch and he knelt down in front of her. Opening her legs wide, she grasped his slick erection and guided him back into her vagina. The angle allowed him to enter her real deep, nudging her womb and she gasped the moment he pulled some out and pushed back in slowly.

The flickering flames of the fireplace framed his thrusting body and shimmered on his thick, black hair like a golden halo from behind. She watched his expression, returning his deep, intimate look and looked up and down his slim frame as if she awoke from a dream. It was almost surreal to see him like this, naked and moaning, moving between her wide-open thighs, the sensation of his member sliding back and forth inside her. Fucking her.

Her fingers moved up along his arms and brushed his panting lips before she stroked his damp cheek, noticing a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders and upper arms and how the hair stuck to his forehead and neck already. His face was alive with emotions and seemed to glow with passion. He leaned down and kissed her, their tongues playing, heaving breathless little moans at each other’s mouth to get at least some air into their lungs until they had to part again.

“Faster.” She panted.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Take me… hard and… deep.”

He hesitated. The elf nodded, her palms ran up and down his forearms.Small, fitful caresses. Jowan saw the need in her eyes. She pressed her crotch against his loins, demonstrating that she could take him whole without any discomfort. He pulled partly out and shoved back in with a thrust that shook her breasts. She gasped for air, her back arched off the couch. He froze at once, afraid that he’d hurt her – until he noticed her pupils glazing over. She groaned his name.

Another slow pull backwards before he plunged back inside with a deep, quick stroke.

Her eyes and mouth snapped open. “Ahhh! Yes! More. Fuck me. Fuck!”

He grasped the backrest over her head, steadying himself before he looked down into her face and started moving again, pumping quick and hard this time, and she moaned. Loud and uninhibited, uncaring if others might hear them as well. Nury’s boobs bounced and bobbed with each slapping thrust. She whimpered and panted his name and he answered with breathless groans, loins jerking back and forth, taking her hard.

He seemed to become even bigger inside her, stretching her noticeable. His features distorted more and more. He was getting close…

“I… cannot… … much longer…” A deep groan left his mouth.

“Don’t stop. Let yourself go.”

Jowan closed his eyes. His breath came in quick, ragged gasps. She panted, yearning for his release. His member swelled to full size, stretching her almost painfully by now. An intense sex flush reddened his face and the vein at his neck bulged. A glittering drop rolled down his cheek. His expression revealed the moment he approached his climax, the point of no return.

“Don’t pull out,” she moaned. “Don’t—“

His mouth snapped open, his face turned into an orgasmic grimace. His body moved slower, his thrusts came longer and so deep that she whimpered aloud with every stroke.

He looked at her again. “I … come!”

“Ohh, yes. Give it to me.”

He straightened up and grabbed her waist, pumping with jerking thrusts; two, three more times before he pressing himself between her thighs, loins rocking, and she felt the quick pulsing of his orgasm inside her.

Both of them moaned.

Nury’s thighs twined around his waist, holding him close until he relaxed over her again. Her hands ran up and down his heaving, sweaty chest. The afterglow colored her cheeks. She smiled, sated. And sighed when he leaned down and kissed her.

The blood mage pulled her gently off the couch and on his lap. They sat on the ground between lounger and fireplace, her legs crossed behind his back, her arms around his neck. Kissing and caressing one another.

- Later that night -

Leliana awoke with a start at the bump against the wall next to her head. She heard a faint giggle and a murmured reply from the other side. A hearty laughter.

The bard rubbed her eyes with a yawn and sat up slowly.

The noises coming from their leader’s room soon changed to moans, underlaid with creaking bedsprings. The redhead bit down on her lower lip before she smiled and got up.

“Thank the Maker,” she sighed and snatched her clothes, dressing. “That really took its time, you two.”

The rogue left her quarters and sneaked over to Nury’s door, tying one of the small, red scarfs around the handle. The passionate noises from the other side made her glimpse at the door leaf with a suggestive smirk.

“Ah, love is wonderful,” she sighed, content with herself for bringing the two mages together and retreated into the taproom. It was deep into the night but there were still some patrons about, nursing their drinks. And she strolled over to them, ready to spend some time in their company.

At least for an hour or two…