Aedan Cousland, the son of a Teyrn, a Grey Warden, and the Hero of Ferelden, takes on another title after the Landsmeet: King. He was to rule alongside Anora, the late King Cailan's widow, not-so-fondly referred to as the 'Ice Queen'. Anora assumed Aedan would be as easily led as Cailan, leaving her to rule as she pleased, unmolested. Unfortunately for her, Aedan had two things in his favour. One: he knew what he was getting himself into when he married her – he knew Cailan well. And two: Aedan was not, as advertised, a Nice Guy.
"Good evening, my Queen."
Sitting in the dark, I knew she hadn't seen me as she entered. I could see from the sudden tightness in her shoulders that she wasn't pleased. I grinned and stood, stepping in to the light.
"Aedan." She nodded.
I noticed she didn't ask the question that was obviously burning in her mind. She also had the sense not to dismiss me or ask me to leave, though she was clearly uncomfortable.
"I thought we should talk."
"Couldn't that wait until tomorrow? It's been a long day, Aedan, and I'd really just like to go to bed." She turned her back to me, surveying her room with a critical eye. "Speaking of which, have you seen my hand-maiden while you were lurking there?"
"Oh, Anora, going to bed is exactly what I had in mind." Apparently I hadn't lost my skill; six months after my last real combat, and I could still sneak. She almost jumped when my words whispered softly into her ear, my breath stirring her hair slightly. "And I gave Erlina the night off."
"The night ... Aedan! You have no right to be ordering around my servants. And you are most certainly not going to bed in here, so you might as well get that out of your head now."
"Actually, my dear, I do have the right to order around anyone in this castle. That's how it works, when you're King, or so I've been told." I put my hands on her hips, gently, and felt her shudder slightly as I pressed up to her back. My feral grin widened.
She pulled away from me, squaring her shoulders and turning to look me in the eye, for what was probably the first time since we'd been married.
"You know very well this was just a political match, and-"
My step forward shocked her into silence, and I guessed my facial expression was predatory. Her slight gasp was the only thing that betrayed her fear, and I enjoyed it. Enjoyed, for once, seeing her intimidated. I could only imagine that was a first for her. I reached out and cupped her face, hands gentle despite the expression on my face.
"You forget that I know you, Anora. I was friends with Cailan, after all. Drinking buddies. I know all about the little arrangement you two had. Don't think he didn't spill that secret late at night after months of frustration. He loved you, Maker knows why. He agonized over betraying your marriage vows. You let the rest of the world think he was a bumbling, backward playboy who couldn't keep his pants on, but I knew the truth. Knew how you teased, and promised, and manipulated him. How he pined for you for months before giving up because he didn't want to pressure you. How he defended you from accusations of being barren, when he knew the truth. You may have been able to control him, but only because he let you.
"I have tried, Anora, Maker knows. I waited. I waited months. I sent you flowers. I spent hours investigating so I could choose thoughtful gifts, just to see if I could make you smile. And most days, you couldn't even be bothered to come down for dinner together.
"I tried. I hoped you might come to respect me, or at least to understand that we need to work together to make Ferelden whole again. I hoped you would realize that without an heir, anything we accomplish is just so much smoke, to be undone the moment the Landsmeet gives up waiting.
"I think you believe I'm like him. That I can be manipulated and controlled, that I won't pressure." Reaching out to grab her hand, hanging by her side, I pushed on her neck and pulled her hand at the same time, spinning her around before she could object. I stopped her spin while her back was to me, reaching around to wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her to me firmly. I ground my hips into her ass, and even through the layers of her dress and my trousers, I knew she could feel me, hard and ready. I dropped my voice even further, whispering so she could barely hear. "I'm not Cailan, Anora. I'm not a nice man, like you're used to. And I am tired of waiting."
She struggled against me weakly, just testing my hold. I wasn't fooled, and braced for the moment when she suddenly threw her full strength into trying to yank her arm out of my grasp. She succeeded only in wrenching her own shoulder, my grip more than strong enough, and she groaned slightly in pain as she subsided.
"Aedan, you're hurting me. This is ridiculous. I thought you understood. Let me go, or I will scream for the guard." She tried to keep her voice even, but the fear was there if you knew how to listen. I'd never used my strength against a woman before, never taken liberties – as a good-looking nobleman with the ear of the King, I'd never had to – but as I'd admitted to Anora, I was not a nice man. I could act the part, and fool everyone; I could even admire men like Alistair, objectively – he had morals, a conscience, and would sacrifice anything for what was right. I didn't share his altruism, however. Saving Ferelden from the Blight was necessary, and Ferelden was one of the few things I loved. I'd have crowned my friend for personal gain had he any desire to take it, but since he didn't, I felt no compunction at stepping in. And I wasn't about to let some uppity, daughter-of-a-commoner cock-tease run my life, or ruin it. I didn't want Anora for herself; she was beautiful, I supposed, but I'd had better. I did require that heir, however. And I had to admit that getting what I wanted without her consent didn't disgust me like I knew it should.
"You won't call the guard, Anora, and you know it. And there's two reasons I can guarantee that. The first is that you know what gossip would be all over Denerim by morning, and it wouldn't be damaging to my reputation. The King, the Hero of Ferelden, consummating his marriage would hardly look badly on me. But for you, being held down against your will, for everyone to know you were too weak to stop me, and in fact mad enough to want to stop me ... You'd be a joke. And we both know you can't stand to be laughed at.
"The other reason you won't scream, though, is much simpler. I know that if you think about it, you'll realize there's no guard in this wing of the palace tonight. You'll realize that on your way up here, you didn't run across a single one. I rearranged the guard schedules, and tonight there's a gap. Tomorrow I'm sure it will be corrected, but tonight the nearest guard is by the guest quarters. And he ... well, let's just say even if he heard anything, he wouldn't respond. He understands that sometimes the King has needs that only his wife can fill."
She was silent, amazingly, but I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. I knew damn well when I married her that she never intended to let me into her bed, nevermind her smallclothes, but that didn't work for me. I knew about her little habit of dominating the serving women, could guess where he sexual preferences lay. I actually wondered if she was technically still a virgin, and looked forward to finding out. Now she was looking for some way to escape. I knew how clever she was, knew I had to keep her off-balance a bit longer for my ploy to work.
Securing my arm more tightly around her waist and pinning her arms to her sides, I produced a small dagger in the other hand, flourishing it ostentatiously. I earned myself a squeal, and chuckled darkly. Holding the extremely sharp implement carefully, I reversed it, plunging it down and into the neckline of her gown. The blade sliced it neatly, leaving her skin untouched, but allowing the material of the dress and undergarments to fall forward, baring her small, pert breasts to the room. I flourished again, and the dagger disappeared as suddenly as it had come. Mentally thanking Zev for teaching me that little trick, my now empty hand burrowed into the gaping hole until it found skin. Finally, for the first time, after months of marriage, I held my wife's tit in my hand.
Her skin was soft, and the nipple was puckering slightly in the chill air of the room. I stroked gently, ignoring Anora's squeal of displeasure and renewed struggle to escape, just enjoying the texture of her skin. Finally, irritated by her squirming, I pinched the nipple between thumb and forefinger, applying pressure until she gasped and arched her back, and I was sure I had her attention.
"This is happening, Anora, whether you like it or not. This marriage will be consummated. You have two choices, at this point. Relax and let it happen, and I'll even try to make it pleasant for you, or continue to fight me and I will do it anyway. I can get enjoyment from your suffering equally as from your pleasure." I gave one more sadistic twist to her nipple, and she moaned in pain. "Your choice, wife."
My words triggered even more squirming, which decided me. I still had both of her arms pinned to her sides; with a quick, practiced movement, I had one wrist surrounded by a leather cuff with a special locking buckle, and then pulled it around her front with the short chain, wrenching her already sore shoulder. In the brief moment she was stunned by unexpected pain, I had her second wrist also cuffed. This significantly limited her movement, and I was free to let her arms go and cover her mouth instead as her objections finally got loud.
The panic on her face was almost comical when I grabbed the chain between her bound wrists and lifted it above her head. I was several inches taller than Anora, and more than strong enough to lift her by the arms if necessary, but that wasn't needed, quite. Before she could think to resist I had the chain looped over the hook in her bed's canopy. I had originally noticed the hook when checking the Palace for security issues, and once I overheard the gossip about Anora's favourite hobby of flagellating the servants, I realised that the hook was for exactly what I had in mind. I had found the cuffs hidden in a compartment in the bed frame, obviously custom-made. I doubted Anora had ever considered that they might be used on her, however.
Once on the hook, Anora could stand, but the chain was pulled almost taut. There was no way she could get herself free of that hook – she'd need me to release her. Finally letting her go, I spun her to face me, the bondage putting uncomfortable pressure on her sore shoulder, I was sure. I kept my hand over her mouth as I ducked down to be eye-to-eye with my Ice Queen.
"Anora, if you continue to scream, I'll invite the guards in to see you like this. Then I'll do what I want anyway. Maybe I'll let them watch. Or you can be quiet. It won't save that precious cunt of yours, but it will keep the guards out of the whole thing. Your choice." I removed my hand.
I wasn't sure if she would try to call my bluff. It didn't really matter to me – I actually had changed the guard schedule and replaced the nearest guard with a rather unscrupulous contact of Zevran's. He knew he was being paid well to not hear anything. Something in my eyes must have convinced her, because she didn't scream. Instead, her tone softened and she tried to reason with me.
"Aedan, please. This isn't necessary. Just untie me now, and I won't tell. I'll come to bed with you. I can make you happy, you know I can. I'll give you an heir. It will be perfect. Just you and me..."
She continued on, but I stopped listening. It was way too late for that. Grabbing my little dagger again, I reached for the ruined tatters of her dress, cutting off a long strip of stiff material. She kept talking while she watched me tie a bulky knot in the middle, but when she realised what I intended to do with it, her mouth snapped shut, teeth clenched. I pinched her nose, holding it for several seconds until she had to open her mouth to breathe. I popped the knot into her mouth, then pulled the ends of the strip back and tied it in place. She could still sort of mumble, but I couldn't understand the words. It was perfect.
Back with my dagger, I cut down the rest of the front of her dress. I had to cut through the sleeves as well, but soon the entire thing fell away to puddle at her feet. I kicked it away, then stopped to admire my prize. I'd guessed Anora had a nice figure, and I was right. Down to just small clothes, I could see the soft curves at chest and hip, and the small waist in the middle emphasized those nicely. I ogled openly, and with what sounded like a slight sniffle, Anora turned away, showing me her luscious ass instead. I groaned as my cock hardened even further.
Realising I was overdressed, I took the opportunity to strip down, shucking my dressy outfit and small clothes both, then kicked them into the pile with the ruined dress. I stepped up behind Anora, my hands reaching around, one to take its place back on her tit, the other reaching up to her neck, pulling her head to the side, allowing me room to lean down and kiss the soft expanse of skin where neck met shoulder. I punctuated the kiss with a tiny flick on her nipple, then whispered softly right in her ear.
"You're so beautiful, Anora."
I felt a shudder run through her, whether from the desire in my voice, the stimulation of her breast, or the hard length of my cock pressing up between the cheeks of her ass, I couldn't be sure. I pressed my advantage, dropping my other hand so I cupped both breasts, my tongue sliding down the back of her neck. I stroked her small, firm tits softly for a while, interrupting with intermittent tweaks of a nipple, all while continuing to lick and kiss at her neck and shoulder. She seemed to have given up, though I didn't trust her not to try for an escape if she saw an opportunity. I had no intention of allowing that.
Reaching one last time for my dagger, I sliced through her small clothes at both hips, the now-useless piece of fabric floating to the floor. I tossed the dagger behind me without really looking, and allowed my hands to roam over the hips I'd just bared. Her ass was now snug against my erection with nothing between her skin and mine, and I guessed I was marking her skin with precum. I wondered if she'd ever experienced that before. I thrust my hips more firmly against her, and my erection slid deliciously in the cleft of Anora's ass. I had to fight the urge to bend down and just take her where she stood, but after the months of deprivation, I wanted more.
I took a step back, hands deceptively gentle as I turned her to face me. Her eyes widened as she saw me naked for the first time, and I smirked. I knew that I was attractive to women, and had certainly a healthy self-esteem in the looks department. But what Anora hadn't known before was that my cock went with the rest of my overly large package. At somewhere north of six feet tall, I was even taller than Alistair, who was one of the tallest men I'd met; as such, I had a rather long, thick cock to match. I wasn't a Qunari, by any means – I didn't think I'd ever be able to get that mental image out of my mind, after stripping in the temple where Andraste's Ashes had been hidden – but I was definitely on the larger end of the spectrum.
I noticed a single tear escape from Anora's eye. I suspected it was artfully done, designed to engender some sort of sympathy or guilt, but it didn't work. Instead, I stopped closer, pressing my cock against the flat of her stomach, her breasts brushing against my chest, my hands holding her pretty, gagged face up, and I licked the tear as it fell. It was salty, but so sweet, and I enjoyed the taste of Anora's fear. She tried to talk through her gag, but all I could hear was a muffled grunt. I smiled.
Truth be told, I'm aware that I am a sociopath. Since childhood, I was able to understand what was supposedly 'wrong' and what was 'right', but I can't say I ever really cared for the rules. I followed them when doing so worked in my favour, which was often. Being seen as a dutiful son was helpful, overall. But when they didn't suit me, I just learned to flaunt the rules without being caught. I learned stealth and subtlety, politics and charm and diplomacy, and found ways to get what I wanted. Being of more than average intelligence, I could put on a performance of righteousness that would make Andraste weep, and I could pull it out at will. In this way, even my closest friends didn't truly know what lay beneath the mask I kept so perfectly in place.
That's not to say that I don't have my morals. I have had my friends, my family – the people for whom I would do anything, even if it meant hiding my involvement entirely. Alistair thought I was a Nice Guy, and to him, I was. Wynne, Leliana, even Sten – none of them knew anything to contradict that opinion. Zevran recognised me as a kindred spirit, and even turned his attempts at seduction away from me, realising I was as likely to take advantage of him as he was of me. Morrigan was perhaps the only one who'd actually seen the seedier side of me, and only because she shared my self-centered outlook, and liked to be dominated. Neither of us had lost our hearts, but we'd gotten some enjoyment out of each other while it lasted. Her ritual, the night before battle, was not a hardship. Alistair had never known what it was that prevented him from dying when making the killing blow on the Archdemon.
Anora ... was not a friend. She wasn't even in a category of people I felt the need to hide my depraved side from. She had spent years quietly torturing Cailan, who had been a friend, and betrayed not only me, but Alistair as well, before the Landsmeet. Now that I was her counterpart, her King, I intended to ensure she never tortured anyone again. And the fact that it gave me someone to vent my anger on didn't hurt. I'm sure that when she agreed to our arrangement, she never dreamed who I really was. She thought she could keep me whipped like Cailan, always hounding after her, never satisfied. She didn't even blink when our agreement specified that I was to be King, not Consort.
I thought she might be regretting that about now.
My hands on her face trailed down her long neck, over her pert breasts, pausing only briefly to pinch and twist her nipples, drawing a gasp and a grunt of pain. They travelled further, over her smooth stomach, and down to her soft, downy pubic hair. She squirmed, briefly, as two fingers on one hand burrowed into the dark triangle between her sex and her legs, and it didn't take long to figure out why. She was wet. And not 'wet because my body has figured out it is about to be raped and wants to protect itself'. Sopping wet. Dripping. I curled my fingers up to run along her puffy pussy lips, to find them already slightly swollen, parting easily. Another grunt, but this one sounded guilty. My smile widened.
"Anora! I'm surprised, my love. I never took you for a pervert. Though these cuffs are yours, I guess I shouldn't be that surprised."
I let that statement stand as my fingers delved deeper, pressing between the lips, teasing around her opening gently. And suddenly I realised that now I could even smell her, the musky scent of female arousal ramping up my own arousal slightly. A wicked idea occurred to me. I continued teasing her, never venturing near enough her clit to offer any relief, the pressure just enough to arouse, not satisfy.
"I never thought you'd actually enjoy this. But clearly you do." I removed my hand, noting with satisfaction that her hips had been moving slightly to grind against my fingers. I showed her the soaked digits, letting her smell the odour of her body betraying her. "I wonder – is it the bondage? Do you like being tied up? Or is it the pain? I've heard that can have peculiar effects on some women. Perhaps Cailan just needed to be a little bit more assertive, and you two could have had a much more pleasant marriage, hmm?" I replaced my fingers, grinning at her as she shook her head in denial.
"Well, no matter. We shall have plenty of time to discover what exactly it is that gets your juices flowing, while we wait for that heir to be confirmed, yes? For now, we will have to settle for the old standby."
The muffled gasp as I knelt in front of her made me smile. The odour, nearer her sex, was almost overpowering, and I found myself looking forward to finding out what she tasted like. I had assumed that this would be, essentially, a rape, where in time the victim finally consented after seeing the futility of struggling. But arousal, mixed with shame? That could be a lot more fun, and potentially get acquiescence sooner as well. Win win!
She kept her legs squeezed tightly together as I tried to pry them apart. I could have done it despite her, with brute strength, but I had another trick up my sleeve. Or rather, on the floor under the bed. I reached around her and dragged two more cuffs into sight. These were slightly larger than the two on her wrists, and already wrapped around the legs of the bed frame. I shook them slightly, enough to make the chain rattle.
She got my threat, and the point, rather quickly. She relaxed her legs, allowing me to position one foot, still clad in a beautiful Orlesian high-heeled shoe, on the foot of the bed, now balancing precariously on the other. This opened her cunt to me nicely, and I groaned as I appreciated the view. I leaned forward and sniffed, grinning at the disgusted expression on her face, running my hands lewdly across the skin of her inner thighs. I finally took the plunge and stuck out my tongue, running it lightly along her slit, licking up some of the copious fluid that had accumulated. She tasted sweet, and I licked my lips rather theatrically before returning more assertively. I nibbled on the lips themselves, then delved my tongue into her folds, teasing around her opening. I plunged my tongue in, finding no resistance, so at least she'd not retained a hymen, though whether she'd ever had a man in her was uncertain. My tongue teased out more of her pleasant nectar, and shortly my chin was coated.
I backed away from her opening, looking up at her face as I brought two fingers up and plunged them into her tunnel unexpectedly. She tried to scream through the gag, though I doubted it was pain, since she was so wet. She was hot and tight, and her muscles clamped convulsively on my fingers, the sensation making my cock twitch in jealousy. I didn't wait for her to adjust, but started slowly withdrawing and thrusting my fingers into her cunt. As soon as my movements became easier, I added a third finger. It wouldn't rival my cock, but I thought that stretching her even a little was kinder than what I could have done.
When my fingers curled forward, digging into the front wall of her pussy, she groaned dramatically through the gag and thrust her hips slightly to increase her stimulation. I chuckled, and she blushed in shame, her expression somewhat hidden by the gag but still obvious. To add to the humiliation, I licked my lips again before leaning in to make a swipe with my tongue over her hard little clit. She thrashed and groaned again. My laugh was mocking.