Chapter 18: Leliana

The morning dawned sunny, for the first time in forever. Leliana woke, still wrapped in Nathaniel’s arms, finally starting to warm up as warm sunlight shone through the cave’s opening. She heard snoring, and realised that the handsome archer must have finally fallen asleep.

She blushed when she remembered the night they’d spent, the kissing…Andraste preserve, had she actually bit him? She rolled her eyes at her own impulsive antics.

She sat up carefully to look down on the nobleman, whose head was tilted back, his mouth partially open. The lines of pain that had been present on his face – emotional pain, not physical; she’d checked with Wynne and Anders both – since they’d first met were gone, faint wrinkles around his eyes the only sign they’d ever existed. She allowed herself to stare at him until she’d had her fill, memorising his thick, dark hair, his full lips, his light stubble – so different from the unkempt, near-beard he’d had when they met – and the small patch of hair under his lip. A ‘soul-patch’, Sierra called it, and it irritated the dark-haired Earthwoman to no end, but Leliana appreciated how it made his mouth look more…sensuous, somehow. She sat up further to admire his muscular shoulders and biceps, noticeable despite the long-sleeved cotton tunic he wore.

She found herself wishing for Sierra’s little device to take a picture of him, relaxed in sleep and so beautiful. She was watching at him, lost in thought, and was startled when he opened one grey eye and favoured her with that little, lopsided smile she’d never seen him give anyone else.

“Staring is rude, you know.”

She grinned and fought to suppress her blush. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Oh?”

“I was admiring. There is a difference.” She sniffed primly and was rewarded with the low chuckle that made goosebumps run up her spine.

“Well, far be it for me to interrupt you, my lady.” He closed his eyes again. “Carry on.”

She giggled, and he opened both eyes, smirking at her triumphantly. He reached up to touch her cheek, his thumb barely grazing her lips. “You have the most beautiful voice in the world.”

She shifted, lifting herself up and settling again, now straddling his thighs, her arms around his shoulders, facing him. His hands fell naturally on her waist, his warmth making her skin tingle through the thin cloth of her chemise. She leaned down to kiss him, and he responded fervently, opening his mouth with a groan and teasing her with his tongue until her own challenged his and she lost herself in his kiss.

His hands slid down her hips – almost involuntarily, she thought in the small portion of her mind that wasn’t thoroughly addled – and then she gasped when one hand gently gripped her ass, the other sliding further down to tease her bare thigh with his fingers. When he registered the gasp, he pulled away, expression contrite; his hands returned to her waist, and he opened his mouth to speak.

She didn’t give him a chance; she kissed him again, almost desperately, and then used her own hands to direct his back to where they’d been – only this time, both were underneath the flimsy cotton of her only clothing.