Chapter 25: Nathaniel

He sighed. Any other time the woman had asked him to take his clothes off, he’d have been thrilled. However, she’d made it quite clear that nothing was going to happen that night, and as he got a whiff of the alcoholic stench coming off his clothes – to both disguise the liquor he hadn’t drunk, and also hide the fact that his breath didn’t smell very strongly – he admitted she was probably wise to decline. But now he was supposed to shuck his trousers so she could inspect his bare skin – while fully hard and almost desperately aroused.

He pulled his loose tunic back over his head to give himself a moment. He closed his eyes, wincing at the smell of the foul moonshine Oghren had been drinking, and tried to think about anything other than the beautiful woman kneeling at his feet. He avoided thinking about the dungeon or the torture – he wasn’t quite ready to traumatize himself to that degree to avoid a little embarrassment – but tried instead to think about the Grand Cleric, the darkspawn, or archery ... He opened his eyes to see a mischievous expression on her face. Leliana knelt almost submissively, her hands on her thighs, her shoulders back, looking up at him through her lashes. Her lips kept twitching with a suppressed grin. The entire picture shot a wave arousal straight to his groin, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers in dismay. The little witch knew exactly what she was doing – and she was enjoying it, damn her to the void.

But two could play at that game. With a last deep breath, he steeled himself and forced a cocky expression onto his face, smirking down at her confidently. His hands went to the laces of his trousers, and he slowly, methodically untied them until they were loose on his hips. He turned, playing shy, and nudged the fabric until it fell to pool at his feet, leaving her staring at his tight rear in nothing but smalls. Her quick gasp was all he needed to stiffen his resolve, and he stepped out of the trousers lazily and turned around so the noticeable bulge in his smalls was practically right in her face.

“They’re all yours,” he commented, and she jumped slightly and picked up the trousers quickly. “Shall I remove the rest?”

“I think this will suffice, my Lord,” she croaked, her usually musical voice hoarse.

He hid a smile behind his hand and faked a yawn, then reached down to hold out a water skin in her direction. “Throat dry?”

She looked up at him again, and they both broke out in a fit of laughter. “No thank you.” She finished looking over his trousers and gave his legs a quick – but professional – once over. “I think you’re safe.”

He held out his hand and helped her to her feet, still somewhat uncomfortable to be half naked, but more grateful to her, both for her help, and the emotional support. He pulled gently, and she came willingly into his arms, curling into his chest as he held her. “Thank you, Leliana.”

She tilted her head back and accepted a chaste kiss. “If you wait here, I can bring you some hot water to wash, yes?” She stepped away from him and pointed at a bucket he hadn’t noticed. “That won’t be warm anymore.”

He reached out and touched her arm gently. “I think I’ll survive. I’m not sure I can say the same about these clothes, but I don’t have anything else to change into.”

She smiled and picked up a bundle from the top of her bedroll. “I have that covered.” She handed him the bundle and went to step out. “There’s a towel and washcloth there as well. I’ll wait outside.”

He took the clothes she handed him but stopped her before she could leave. “That’s not necessary. I’ll just ... I mean, if you could just ... turn your back?”

She nodded and returned to sit on her bedroll, facing the tent flap. He stripped quickly, washing himself hurriedly as he tried not to curse at the cold water. He briefly regretted not allowing her to bring warm water – but looking at her in the arcane light, with her hair falling around her sweet face and her weight resting back on her hands, he couldn’t bring himself to be too upset.

He finished efficiently, dressing with hands shaking from the cold. He cleared his throat when he was done, stepping to the side of her bedroll. “All done.” He looked down at her gratefully. “Thank you again. I suppose I’d better just...”

He trailed off when she looked up at him and patted the bedroll beside her. “You’ve got nowhere else to go, and we both know it. I think there’s room for both of us here, no? Just for sleep though.” She admonished him with a wagging finger and a stern expression, and he chuckled.

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

He sat awkwardly, and together they slipped under the covers, her head on his chest, one leg crossed over his. She turned off the light, and he closed his eyes contentedly. I could get used to this. He knew better than to say it out loud.