Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

Knight-Commander Greagoir clearly hadn't slept in days. For all his attempt to convey composure and certainty, he had the jittery, haunted look of a man operating on nothing but panic and well aware of the fact. He was acting merely to be doing something, anything. It was reflected in his eyes when he announced he had sent for the Right of Annulment that he wasn't certain it was the right thing to do, but that he was certain it was the only thing he could do.

And Elissa was just as certain that she could not allow him to carry out his plans.

She'd always felt a certain kinship to mages, born of the common ground of the condemnation of the Chantry. But since the day Alistair had told her what the Chantry did to its templars, her disaffection with the Chantry's methods bordered on obsession. Were it not for the Blight and her duty as a Grey Warden, she would have been on a personal crusade to see the Chantry brought down and the mages freed from its control.

Now, happily, her duty coincided with her moral inclination. She needed the mages. As well-trained as the templars were, the mages would comprise a much more powerful force with which to confront the archdemon. She could not allow them to be exterminated like vermin.

"I beg your pardon, Warden, but I fail to see why you insisted on speaking with me privately," Greagoir announced as they entered the guardroom off the entryway to the tower.

"You!" Elissa snapped at a nearby templar initiate, "Bring your commander some food. Real food, not rations. I don't care if you have to cross the lake to get a proper meal from The Spoiled Princess, just do it now."

"Warden, you have no authority to give my templars orders."

"Your templars are in a sorry state," she said bluntly. "There's not a single one in this tower who isn't hovering on the brink of panic or collapse, and that includes yourself. How do you expect to think rationally, much less fight effectively, in such a condition?"

"And what would you have us do?" he challenged. "Curl up on our cots and take naps while the abominations break down the door?"

"I would have you think on this matter as something other than a templar for a moment," she said sedately, taking off her cloak and draping it across the back of a tall chair. "No matter what lies Loghain may be spreading, the fact is, there is a Blight coming. King Cailan was foolish and rash to think it could be defeated so easily that he didn't summon all his available forces to combat it. At least some of the blame for that falls upon Teyrn Loghain's shoulders, not only for abandoning the field at Ostagar but also because he argued endlessly against sending for reinforcements. But, in the interest of fairness, some of the blame also belongs to Duncan, the late Warden-Commander, for he was not insistent enough upon the necessity of marshalling a greater force before confronting the darkspawn horde. Instead, he took the conciliatory road and obeyed Cailan's whim, and now they are both dead as a result."

"That may all very well be true, Warden," Greagoir said, "but none of that is my concern until this matter here in the Tower is dealt with."

"It is your concern, Knight-Commander," she insisted. "Do you think if the Blight continues unchecked it shall somehow spare the templars? What is occurring here in the Tower is a mere inconvenience in comparison to the devastation the Blight shall bring. The mages are a powerful force, ser. Possibly powerful enough to provide a decisive victory. They are too valuable to be slaughtered out of hand."

"These are all very compelling arguments, but the matter is out of my hands."

"It is not. You could allow me and my companions to enter the tower and search for any surviving mages before the Right of Annulment arrives."

"Absolutely not," he said bluntly as the initiate Elissa had sent in search of food returned with a tray of fruit and cold meats. She took it from his hands and dismissed him, shutting the door once he had gone. "Those doors will remain sealed until the Right of Annulment arrives. For the safety of everyone."

"Eat, please, Knight-Commander."

As the templar began to inhale the food--no doubt the first actual meal he'd had in days--Elissa moved in behind him. He flinched when she placed her hands on the sides of his neck and began to rub the tense muscles above his plate armor.

"Just what do you think you are doing, Warden?" he asked, and she was encouraged by the fact that he did not move away nor make any attempt to stop her.

"If you must know, I'm leading up to an attempt to seduce you."

"That's...honest," he snorted, amusement heavy in his voice.

"I attempt to be honest whenever I possibly can. It's much easier than trying to remember a complicated web of lies."

"You do realize that templars take an oath of chastity?"

"I do," Elissa answered calmly, "which is why I entreated you to think on this matter as something other than a templar for a while."

"I don't see what you hope to accomplish."

Elissa sighed, digging into the muscles in his neck with her thumbs. "It's really quite simple. You're overwrought, Knight-Commander. You're not eating properly, not resting sufficiently, and every instinct within you is demanding you act now even though there is absolutely nothing you can do now. It's a potentially disastrous combination and it's preventing you from considering other options. I'm offering you a chance to relieve some of that tension in the hopes that once you do so, you'll see matters more rationally."

"Not a year has passed since I became a templar that some mage hasn't attempted to seduce me for one reason or another," Greagoir said. "What makes you think you'll succeed where they've failed?"

"The fact that I am not a mage. You have no reason to be concerned that I will create a conflict of interest for you. Well, aside from the pesky matter of your chastity vow, and considering how sanguine you are about the matter in the first place, I'm now quite certain that has been broken before. In addition, I'll succeed because you know I'm right. You know you're acting out of panic, and you fear that you may be acting precipitously as a result. You may be a devoted templar, and a determined man, but unless I'm reading you entirely wrong you are also, on the whole, a reasonable person. You will do anything you deem necessary to be sure your course is the right one. And finally," Elissa leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear, "I'll succeed...because you haven't yet said 'no.'"

"Then what's to keep me from having you and afterward refusing your request?"

"Absolutely nothing. If you decide afterward that the Right of Annulment is the only course of action you can reconcile yourself with, then naturally you must do what you think is right. I'm willing to take the chance, however, that once you are in a calmer frame of mind you'll come to see things my way."

"Perhaps," Greagoir said slowly, pushing his empty tray aside. "I ought to first see what it is you have to offer."

Smiling, Elissa began to unbuckle her armor.


Lyrium, she thought sometime later, musing at the taste of cinnamon and something bitter that lingered on her tongue.

Alistair refused to look at her as the massive doors slammed shut behind them with the ring of finality.


*****


Without knowing how she came to be there, Elissa found herself in a lavishly appointed bedchamber.

"Oh, darling, I'm so proud of you!"

She whirled at the voice, amazed to see Eleanor standing behind her, smiling. Amazed...Elissa shook her head. Why shouldn't her mother be here?

"Mother? What--?"

"I know you've had some reservations, but this is a fine marriage, and it will benefit the Couslands greatly," Eleanor effused.

"The king?"

"He's already retired for the evening, darling."

"Retired? But--"

"You mustn't be insulted. With the queen so close to delivering her child, no doubt he felt it necessary to retire early for her sake."

"The queen? With child? I don't understand...I was to marry the king. I carry his child."

Eleanor laughed. "What a vivid imagination you have, darling! I know you entertained some girlish fantasy of Cailan setting Anora aside and picking you as his new queen, but surely you've put that behind you. As for carrying his child, don't be ridiculous. Your father and I have seen to it quite well enough that you are going to your wedding bed a virgin, as is proper for a girl of your station."

"Mother, you sent me to Ostagar to seduce the king, to--" To what? Elissa could no longer remember why such a thing would have happened.

"Ostagar? Send our daughter into an army camp full of rough soldiers? To seduce the king, no less! What a ridiculous notion. You were in Highever helping me finalize the betrothal agreement when the king and the Grey Wardens won their great victory there and ended the Blight," Eleanor shook her head in confusion. "Are you feeling all right, darling? I do hope you're not getting ill on your wedding night."

"The Blight is over?"

"Of course! The celebration lasted for a month, surely you remember that. Honestly, it was quite exhausting to go from all that celebration and then turn around and plan a wedding."

"But what about Duncan and the Grey Wardens?"

"Heroes, naturally, after they brought down the archdemon and set the underground lairs ablaze, insuring there shall never be another Blight. I know Duncan was as dear as an uncle to you, but he simply couldn't come all the way from Weisshaupt Fortress for your wedding. He did send a draft of the history of the Final Blight he's composing, however."

"This doesn't make any sense, Mother! Duncan's a warrior, not an historian!"

"Oh, darling, you're just being argumentative because you're nervous," Eleanor said impatiently. "Your groom shall be here soon. In fact, I think I hear the wedding party coming up the stairs now. You look beautiful, sweetheart. Remember, you've made us all very proud."

Eleanor pressed a hurried kiss to Elissa's cheek and rushed from the room. Moments later she heard voices out in the hall, cheers and well-wishes and ribald advice. Smoothing her silken nightrail down around her hips, Elissa straightened her back and prepared to meet her husband. Despite her confusion, she could feel the hot blood of arousal beginning to run through her veins, sending a flush creeping across her skin as she anticipated the passionate adventure that lay ahead of her. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoed by a faint pulsing between her thighs, and she became aware of the fact that she wore no smallclothes beneath her semi-transparent gown. She embraced her nervous anticipation, savored it, let the tense heat begin building deep within her belly, preparing her....

...And then the door opened, and ahead of the wedding party entered Arl Rendon Howe.

"No!" Elissa gasped, horror freezing her in place as Howe closed the door on the cheering well-wishers.

"Ah, my beautiful bride!" Howe approached her, something that she supposed was meant to be a jubilant smile on his rat-like face, that rather came across as a leer. She felt queasy at the sight of his crooked yellow teeth.

"No," she whispered again. "This is wrong. Mother and Father would never do this to me."

"The contract was negotiated in good faith," Howe said, stopping before her. "You were there when we signed it. I had to cede several miles of coastland to Highever as part of the deal. If your father ever takes it into his head to build a port there, it may well rival Amaranthine as a port town. The arrangement was quite profitable for your family, my dear wife, thanks in large part to your insistence on the terms. You Couslands have always known how to get the best end of a bargain. No doubt that's a long-standing skill of Eleanor's. And now that the words have been spoken in the Chantry, it's all official."

"No," she repeated yet again. "This is all a mistake. I shall go to the Revered Mother tomorrow and explain the matter..."

"You will do no such thing," he replied, grabbing her arms and pulling her close. His foul breath slashed across her face. "Now remove your gown. Or I shall be forced to invoke the other clause of our bargain. Don't you remember, my dear? The private agreement your parents know nothing about?"

"What do you mean?"

"Surely you've not forgotten already," he taunted. "Imagine the shame and disgrace the Cousland family would suffer if it became widely known that your mother was once a common whore."

Elissa scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Gossip has abounded about my mother for years; unsubstantiated claims, nothing more."

"Yes, but I have proof, as you well know. Now, the gown, if you don't mind? I should dearly hate to ruin the good name of my old friends and new in-laws."

With trembling hands, Elissa pushed the gown off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor. Howe's eyes were fever-bright as they settled upon her breasts, and he reached out and began to grope them roughly, crudely. There was no artistry in his touch, no intent to arouse or pleasure her. He handled her like a slab of meat. Elissa closed her eyes against a wave of nausea and humiliation when his disgusting mouth closed over her nipple and he began to use his teeth, worrying it like a mabari pup with a teething toy, drawing pained whimpers from her.

Abruptly he pushed her away and began stripping off his silk and velvet doublet, revealing a wrinkled and emaciated chest. He unlaced his breeches and pushed them off his pale, flabby flanks. Disgusted, she looked away, unwilling to see more.

Howe seized her hand and brought it up between his legs, and only then did she open her eyes as she realized his member was soft as he ground it against her palm. She shuddered in revulsion, trying to draw her hand away, but Howe grabbed her head, pushing on her, trying to force her to her knees.

"Use your mouth. You're the daughter of a whore; surely you must have some skills at pleasing a man."

"No!" she shouted, jerking away from him. "I will not!"

"I realize your father allowed you a great deal of latitude, but I assure you things will be quite different as my wife. I will suffer no disobedience," Howe announced coldly.

"Then beat me if you wish," Elissa lifted her chin. "But you will have to pummel me unconscious before I allow you to put that disgusting little worm of a prick anywhere near my mouth."

"Oh no," Howe sneered. "While I am quite certain I will have to beat you frequently, and even more certain I will take great pleasure in doing so, I have other ways of breaking you first. You will get down on your knees now and put that sharp tongue of yours to use on my cock, or tomorrow after our wedding guests leave Vigil's Keep, you will kneel naked in the courtyard outside the stables before all the servants and retainers, tonguing the assholes of every dog in my kennel. As you do so, the maids will empty the chamberpots upon you, and every servant down to the lowest stableboy will be commanded to piss on you. You will sleep tethered nude upon a manure pile to be bitten and stung by horseflies. And that's just the highlights of the first week until you learn obedience."

Scalding tears flooded down Elissa's cheeks as she sank to her knees. Howe nudged his unaroused cock against her face, gripping her jaw to force her mouth open. Sobbing, she licked at it and when he snarled another command, began to suck on it, taking the entire squishy mass into her mouth. Still, he remained flaccid, flopping wetly against his own ballsack when Howe thrust her roughly away, cursing her.

"Ignorant slut!" He growled. "I will not be humiliated before my guests. Get up on the bed and spread your legs."

Shaking, Elissa did as she was bidden, desperately attempting to ignore the slapping sound as Howe tugged urgently at his cock, trying to bring himself to erection. He was still only half-hard when he climbed onto the bed beside her and thrust his other hand between her legs, rubbing rudely at her cunt.

Grunting, he stretched his cock out only to have it flop limply back down again and again.

Prying her folds apart, he began forcing his fingers inside her, spitting on his hand when she proved too dry. Still, they burned, stretching her unready cunt, and impatiently he slammed his fingers hard up her sheath, tearing through her maidenhead abruptly.

Elissa screamed, squeezing her eyes closed against the pain, and suddenly a different vision swam across her mind, one of Cailan's flushed face, framed by his long, golden hair, moving over her as her body adjusted to the aching intrusion of his cock. She remembered the game she'd played with him, the teasing and reluctance, deliberately pushing to use force and violence. Confused, her mind tried to reconcile the memory of losing her virginity to Cailan with what was passing now.

Howe apparently enjoyed her screams and tears, because he was almost succeeded in working himself to an erection. He crouched over her and masturbated furiously, and Elissa realized he no longer cared about fucking her, only that he left stains upon the bedding as proof of his manhood. Frantically she scrambled out from beneath him, seconds before he ejaculated atop the smudges of blood on the sheet.

"This is not real," she said at last, pushing herself away from the bed as Howe slumped over, panting. Ignoring the burning pain between her thighs, she cast her eyes about the room, finally espying a weapon rack. She rushed for it, pulling a sword from its sheath before he could react.

"Foolish girl," Howe complained, "I have given you everything you could possibly want and you throw it back in my face."

"This is not what I wanted, not what my family wanted."

"Your war against the darkspawn is over, your king alive and well. Your family is respected and prosperous, and still you insist on defying me! So be it. If you will not obey, you will be broken!"

Elissa fell into a fighting stance as he charged, and seconds later he lay skewered upon the sword at her feet.

"Now you've given me what I truly desire," she sneered, jerking the blade from his corpse. As she did so, the bedchamber around her faded and she found herself in a strange, barren, rocky land approaching a figure in mage's robes, who introduced himself as Niall.

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