As the elf took a seat at the quiet bar ‘Cot narrowed his gaze, giving the patron a querulous look. When he was convinced this was the one he’d been told about he took a key from behind the bar and slid it across the polished wood, along with a shot of whiskey. The elf looked up at him, his cool gaze enough of a question to evoke an answer from the old man.
“Key to the Attic Suite. Yours for the night.” The Innkeeper explained. This was not the first time he’d needed to be discreet nor would it be the last. As he cleaned one of the glasses he stared at the elf, who still had not touched the drink nor the key. Cote had seen his like often enough but that did not stop him wondering. When he was required to be discreet it was usually for one of very few reasons. Either: this was a surprise, this was an affair, or this was a game the couple played. From the look of the elf Cote guessed at the first but he knew he’d never actually discover the truth. It was entertaining to think about it while the Common Room was so quiet though.
“Do you need Mikkin or Meira to show you there or…?” The elf held up his hand to stop the man from talking, then took the key with his other as he rose from his seat.
“Thank you for the drink.” He said, though it remained untouched on the bar. As he left and headed for the stairwell Cote simply shook his head and shrugged. He knew what the lady had ordered and it produced a wry smile on his lips but nothing more. This was a curious business and what folks got up to behind closed doors was none of his business, he was simply there to provide a service and a room or rooms for those patrons.
The elf knew which suite had been booked but he did not know why, in that Cote had been correct. Perhaps it was curiosity or maybe it was simply the desire to reprimand Malvae for such silly games and distractions. Either way he climbed the stairs of the Waystone Inn and found the closed door of its finest suite at the very top. For a moment he simply stood and listened, ever cautious even when he knew that no one was leaving the Inn and no one was entering either. They were alone. At least until the weather cleared; then they could continue their mission, something he was extremely eager to do. His caution was overridden by his trust for the asha, as well as his curiosity – though that was something he would deny. So it was he opened the door and entered the suite she had booked.
The room was dark apart from the glow of the hearthfire, but even in that half-light the decorations of this Christmas holiday were evident enough. At least in here they were more tasteful, the tree was in the corner, strange wreaths above the hearth and… was that petals strewn across the bed? The elf saw no sign of the elven woman, but he knew she was here, he could sense her. His gaze was drawn inexplicably to the chair in the middle of the room, so out of place and solitary. As he stepped away from the door it closed but before he could see why he felt something press against his throat. The familiar glint of familiar blades evoked a familiar smile from the mage, a dangerous smile that warned the bearer of the blades an explanation was needed and needed very quickly. He felt her form press against his back and relaxed though he was hardly amused. That she made her presence known was enough to ensure this was a game and not a betrayal.
“Somebody has been very, very naughty.” She said, her tone a mix of amusement and lust. The tip of the blades pressed against his skin harder but a moment later she pulled away slightly, baring only the flat of the knives, but “encouraging” him to move forward, towards the chair. When he was seated she remained behind him, invisible to his gaze which was touched with more than a little annoyance. If there was one thing the mage did not like it was not being in control. She knew this; it was why she was doing it, the elven woman getting pleasure from dominating him even in this small way. Apparently this Inn had bored her, something that was usually worthy of reprimand, but he found he was not entirely eager to press too harshly in that direction. There was more than intrigue as a motivation for this, the fact was the lust that laced her voice was inviting and he was tempted to accept that invitation.
Malvae was an elf who liked to play with her blades, usually to the detriment of her victims, but tonight she was intent on using them to test and tease the man who was elusive emotionally and a challenge in every other way. Tonight was about no other emotion than lust though, something they both knew a lot about but for one reason or another had rarely given into. It was both frustrating and understandable, the Cause always came first but the Cause was out there, in the snow, beyond their reach. Tonight all they had was each other. Deftly and quickly she secured his wrists and tied them behind him and to the chair. The only protest she sensed was in his body, but that she interpreted as a reluctance to give into her rather than a lack of desire, she knew him well enough to know that if he did not want this he would have used his magic to throw her across the room already. Tavius was not exactly subtle when it came to displaying certain emotions, however tight his control was over them she was one of the few people who saw him slip and knew what was under the veneer of cruelty and indifference. It was not always something pleasant nor desired, but there was enough there that was familiar to keep her close to him and loyal. Did she love him? She supposed a part of her did. That buried Dalish fool that still believed in her sa’lath that even hoped he might be it, that hoped that he felt the same way about her. This was not the part of Malvae that was present in the Attic Suite though. That foolish asha had not reared her idiotic head for some time and certainly not in front of the object of her obsession. No, tonight Tavius was going to experience a side of his assassin that he had not seen before.
Once he was secure (though that meant little, she knew he could use magic to free himself) she stepped away from the chair and picked up her dami once more. The Dalish elf bit down on her lip, entirely aroused at the prospect but a little nervous and unsure about how far he would allow this to go and how long it would be before she was “punished”. Part of her looked forward to that even more then the seemingly more desirable end – being hurt by him was almost as arousing as the alternative. After several minutes of silence she moved into his line of sight, revealing herself to him for the first time. It had taken some doing, but the elf had managed to put together quite the show. An array of “tools” lined the dressing table and it was to here that she walked, presenting only her back to the seated mage. She put one of her dami next to what appeared to be a riding crop, but did not turn to face him just yet. The red, satin robe she wore barely covered her buttocks and she knew that even in the amber glow of the fire he would see the stockings, the boots, maybe even the shape of the corset under the robe…
When she was fully satisfied that he had been teased enough with that view, she turned to face him, giving him the slyest and most playful grin she had perhaps ever shown to him. Teasing Tavius was an interesting experiment, but one she had been wondering about for some time. While they had nothing else to do but moan about the festivities and the other patrons she had decided to use this “Christmas” for her own ends; ever the bard, ever the adaptable creature. With her dami in hand she sashayed towards the mage, her hips swaying seductively. It was not difficult to play the role of a dominant female; she had done it before, but never with him. It was a risk but Malvae enjoyed risks, especially when they promised to end in the most pleasurable of fashions. The elf placed herself directly in front of him and leaned forward placing one hand on his chest – which rose and fell rapidly, though she saw he tried to control himself. Interesting. Was he containing rage or something else? Malvae’s grin widened and the urge to find out just how aroused he was, was curtailed by her desire to tease him. It was too easy to simply give into her lust and discover how much he really wanted her.
Using the blade she moved his neck to the side and forced him to look at the fire to his right. She caught the ghost of a smile on his lips and was encouraged, so leaned forward and slid her hand from his chest to the nape of his neck. Her lips barely touched his ear but she felt the reaction of his body as she spoke, her grip on his hair tightening to exert her “authority”.
“You are not a man to beg for anything, but I promise you by the time I have had my wicked way with you, you will not want this night to end. Neither will you want any other asha in this world.” That was not something she had planned on saying and she remained close to him so she did not reveal the look on her face. Malvae was not a jealous woman, but Tavius was possessive and there was a part of her that mirrored that possession. For tonight at least, he was hers and not even their Cause could come before that. She did not resent the fact that war meant she could not have him whenever she wanted, for the fact was it was war that drew them together. Without it there was no place in this world for either of them. It forged their partnership and whatever else came from that was merely a bonus. Malvae knew this and she accepted it. Hers was not the life of a typical Dalish, nor a typical elf.
When she pulled away it was only enough so that her lips were inches from his. She smiled slowly, playful lust alighting her blue eyes, the smirk a promise of mischief to come. She wanted to kiss him, to give into that feeling that wrenched at her gut. For a moment she just hovered before him, the knife moving down his body, pushing aside his clothes, cutting them away to bare his chest more and more. The need to touch him, to give into her passion and taste him was palpable. Lust hummed in the air between them and she fought it, wrestling with that ever present need to be with him and be touched by him, to feel him reciprocate and know he wanted her too. That he desired her she had no doubt; that was a question that had been answered long ago. That he wanted her above all other asha? That was something she knew not to ask or to wonder, it was a dangerous question she had no right or need to know the answer to. It was irrelevant but passion was never rational and Malvae’s passion was akin to a torrent of fire. Tavius had some control over the flames but even he could be burnt. She wondered if he’d ever care enough to risk it? Perhaps tonight she would find out?
With his torso exposed and his blood satisfyingly racing through his veins Malvae straightened and took the blade to herself. Seductively she traced the knife down the centre of her body, teasing at the edges of the robe, revealing a little of her bronze skin. When the knife reached the tie around her waist, she looked at the mage and raised her eyebrows, placing the blade inside of the knot, ready to slice through it.
“Do you want me to be unwrapped early? Or should I wait until this “Christmas” to give you your present?” It was a rhetorical question and she knew he would not say a word; he was too prideful to succumb to her dominance just yet. With a shrug and a sigh the assassin sliced the fabric then tossed the blade at the wall where it was buried in the wood to the hilt. The robe fell away to reveal her elven body, her breasts bulging within the tight black and red corset she had appropriated. Below her waist she wore nothing but black suspenders and stockings, and black thigh high boots. Her brown hair cascaded down her back and across her breasts, her arousal obvious in the way she breathed rapidly and in the flush of colour in her face and dappled across her neck and cleavage. She leaned forward again giving her mage a good view of what was yet to be unwrapped.
This time when she touched him she felt his body responding, the elf as tense and aroused as she wanted him. He strained against the bonds almost forgetting he could release himself – a good sign she thought, since he seemed as eager to play her game as she was – at least for now. Malvae knew that there would come a point when he would take control back but she was counting on that moment. To be ravished by him was the goal, was it not? The tease a means to a pleasurable and erotic and rough end, a gratifying release of the frustration they felt at being stranded with these people and at being kept from the War they had so recently re-ignited.
Her fingers danced across his skin, sensitive to what he most desired and wanted from her. It was easy to give Tavius what he wanted, she knew him well enough to elicit those familiar shudders and sounds. There was a heightened sense of anticipation this time though, the stress and pressure of their situation, the things left unsaid and the need to sate constant desire all culminated in a tension that Malvae was able to take advantage of. Her lips replaced her fingers and she teased his flesh with her mouth, fluttering kisses from his neck and down his chest. As she drifted lower, towards his naval, her nails dug into his upper torso and she dragged them down his body, raking at his skin but not drawing blood, not yet. He writhed beneath her touch, but restrained as he was he could not make any demands of her beyond pushing himself towards her wet lips, a gift she accepted gratefully. Delicately she kissed his naval and pulled at his slacks teasingly, delivering kisses across his hips and down further, so close…. So very close.
Pulling away was difficult and a test for both of them, but she did it swiftly, standing up again and while doing so bringing her cleavage close enough to his lips for him to kiss her. Of course he held back, something that both disappointed and encouraged her equally. Perhaps it was the annoyance at being denied her kiss, or perhaps he was displaying his own discipline. Either way it did not matter, the tease had not finished yet. It had barely begun.
Malvae smirked again and touched his lips with her fingertips, shuddering at the eroticism even this small act elicited but reigning in that ever present and pressing need to simply climb atop him and lower her very exposed self onto his very prominent arousal. That would be cheating both of them though and negating the purpose of this night. For once Tavius was at her mercy and she was enjoying denying him too much. That he could take her, she knew, she even desired it, but for now the prospect of drawing out the tension was too exquisite to ignore or surrender.
“Because you are being good I suppose I can give you a peak?” The elven asha bit down on her lower lip again, entirely aroused by the thought of revealing more to him. He had to know how ready she was for him, how difficult it was to stay focused and play with him? He was close enough to see for himself, but he would not feel how aroused her body was until she had brought both of them to the edge. The corset fit snugly to her slender body and though she was a small elf she had enough of a shapely figure to fit into the tight fitting apparel. Her breasts strained against the ties and confines and when she pulled at the strings to loosen it they tumbled free, soft and swaying, the peaks of her bronze globes hard and sensitive. Malvae sighed and moaned a little, tossing the corset aside. It was then that the eroticism of the moment overwhelmed her and she straddled her mage and pressed her nearly naked body against him, claiming his lips for the first time in a kiss that spoke of untethered passion and a promise of what was to come. She wanted so much more than his kiss; she needed to feel even a modicum of the emotion that burned inside of her like a forest fire, unrivalled and unruly, unrelenting and destructive. This was not the time nor the elf (or so she had convinced herself) for such depth or passion or emotion, but it did not stop her from touching it even a little. Even in that moment she knew he felt nothing but lust for her and truthfully that was enough. Ever had it been and ever would it be. There was more to Tavius and Malvae than this kind of indulgence. However, she allowed herself a moment of weakness and hope because her life was one of discipline where she bridled the Dalish asha, nay… she buried and silenced her because she knew she would die if she allowed her heart to dictate her actions. It had been broken once.
And so the kiss evolved into one of unbridled eroticism, the assassin careful not to allow him anything more than the promise of her body, only his tongue was allowed to enter her.
Upon breaking the kiss and leaving him wanting she caught her breath and groaned, displaying her own frustration despite her being the one to deny them both. Malvae was a dichotomy, in constant conflict with herself and even in this moment she was true to her nature. Exposed as she was she truthfully had little control, a fact that was emphasized when she felt his hands on her waist. She pretended to look affronted but she could not deny her relief. Still, she feigned a reprimanding tone which was altogether contradicted by the smile on her face.
“Now that is naughty. I didn’t say you could touch me.” She purred, unable to maintain the illusion of control.
“I am done playing nice.” He said simply.
Cote received more than one complaint that evening about the noise, but he was not about to interrupt nor speak to the pair about their use of the Suite. It was paid for and he suspected from the “extras” that had been ordered that it was going to be used in a rather unique manner. Appeasing the patrons was easy enough; he asked a mage to cast a spell to seal the noises to the room and to be on the safe side asked Reshi to cobble together a band to make as much noise in the Common Room as had been filtering down from the Attic. It was a long and noisy night and in the morning the empty Suite bore the marks of their tryst. Cote did not need to ask for recompense for the bed nor the other things that had been broken, coin to cover the damage had been left and the Suite was tidy despite the damage. The Innkeeper was tempted to make an unwritten rule not to rent out the Suite to elves who asked for such extras but then, who was he to deny them their fun? With a shake of his head Cote got to work, preparing the room for his next patron.