Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

The day had already passed well into the afternoon as Zevran and Elissa made their way through the winding roads and alleyways of Denerim back toward the marketplace square. It was there they encountered Sergeant Kylon again, prompting Zevran to whisper to her, "Ah, and here's your mark, Warden."

"I was hoping I'd find you," the sergeant hailed them as they approached. He was flanked by a cadre of his incompetent guardsmen. "I heard about The Pearl. I don't know how, but you got them to leave with no fuss at all. The Pearl's 'workers' will--"

"Nobody gives orders to my men but me!" A coarse voice interrupted. "A little lesson in respect is in order!"

Elissa sighed to see the leader of the White Falcon mercenaries she had dispersed approaching. Kylon looked them over then met her eyes again. "I see. Don't bother sparing these louts. Things are about to get messy."

Immediately they were charged by the mercenaries. Two of them, including the leader, headed straight for Elissa, giving her no time to grab her bow and gain some distance. She unsheathed her daggers instead and set herself in the light-footed, balanced stance Isabela had shown her, watching the oncoming stampede. She was painfully aware of the fact that, except for Kylon and his men, she and Zevran had no support in this fight, and cursed herself for braving Denerim's alleys without her other companions.

The fight was brief but intense. Trying to keep in mind Isabela's lessons, she watched the bodies of the mercenaries, trying to anticipate their next move, to be someplace else than where they were striking. She felt, rather than saw, the clean stroke of her dagger across the next of one mercenary as she whirled, moving immediately into a side-step that avoided the two-handed blow of another's sword. That one she dispatched on the back-swing as he lumbered past, driving her dagger beneath his helmet into the base of his skull.

One of Kylon's men cried out as an arrow embedded itself in his shoulder, and realizing there were archers, Elissa charged them without stopping to think. If she was vulnerable in close-quarters combat, so too might they be, unable to defend themselves as effectively against a melee attack. One of the archers never managed to release his bow before he went down with Elissa's dagger sliding out of his belly, the other managed to get his sword clear of its sheath, but was slow and clumsy with it. Elissa realized then just how right Zevran had been about her being a liability to her companions. The sword fell from the mercenary's hand when the stroke of Elissa's dagger across the back of his hand nearly severed his fingers. Her next strike slipped neatly between his ribs and he sank to the ground, gurgling blood.

Panting, she whirled to discover the rest of the mercenaries were either lying on the ground or wounded and fleeing. Her eyes immediately sought out Zevran and she was relieved to find him unharmed. Sergeant Kylon was also still on his feet, apparently unwounded, though several of his men were clutching injuries and wailing as though they were halfway to the Fade already. Rolling her eyes, Elissa sheathed her bloody daggers and ran across the alley, back to the sergeant and Zevran.

"Are you all right, Warden?" Zevran asked anxiously. Flushed with pride at her unexpected success and feeling madly, gloriously alive as the hot blood of battle coarsed through her veins, Elissa nodded, grinning.

Sergeant Kylon surveyed the carnage and whistled admiringly. "And people voluntarily attack you?" he asked incredulously. "Are they just stupid?"

The man could not have chosen better words to endear Elissa to him at that moment, so thrilled was she to have performed so well in the fight.

"Zevran," she said, meeting his gaze with eyes that blazed with triumph and arousal, "why don't you see to the sergeant's wounded men? I need to speak with him privately."

Zevran's low, knowing voice sizzled along her already stimulated nerves. "Take all the time you need, Warden," he said with a grin.

Trying to project an air of dignity and gravity, Elissa led the sergeant down the empty alley and around the corner of an abandoned building.

"About the matter of payment--" the sergeant began, but Elissa cut him off, sealing her mouth over his. The sergeant stiffened in shock, his hands on her shoulders poised to push her away, and then his mouth opened and his tongue met hers. He, too, still felt the heat of battle lust. His kiss wasn't gentle for long; soon he was possessing her mouth, pulling hard at her lips, thrusting insistently with his tongue. It was a long moment before Elissa drew away, licking her lips slowly, feeling how sensitive and swollen they were from the sergeant sucking on them.

"Warden, I-I don't know what to say--" he stammered.

"It's a thankless job you do, sergeant," she murmured, pitching her voice low, letting it growl in her throat. "I think some demonstration of appreciation is in order."

Before the sergeant could ask her intent, she sank to her knees before him, her hands pulling at the laces whih attached the leather codpiece protecting his groin where it was exposed by his chainmail leggings, then opening the laces of the chauses he wore beneath.

His cock was hard and throbbing by the time she released it from its bindings, heated with blood in contrast to the cool air. Elissa stroked him with not just her mouth, but her face, using her skin and eyelashes and even her hair to caress him as she held his hard, pulsing length in her hand.

"Oh, Maker," Kylon sighed, his eyes closing and his head falling back. He braced his hands on the wall behind him, making no effort to grab her or pull her closer, leaving Elissa free to pleasure him with all her skill and enthusiasm.

Elissa used her fist wrapped around him to slide back the sheath of skin around his cock, parting the cowl to expose the flaring head. She loved this, the slow reveal as the hood pulled back, the smooth glide of that amazingly soft skin. A cock was a sensory treat, full of soft textures and heady aroma and flavor. A pump of her fist teased a droplet of fluid to the tip and Elissa's tongue darted out daintily to catch it, savoring it.

It would have been easy for her to be perfunctory about the matter, bringing the sergeant to completion with little effort or artistry. To do so was made even more tempting my the promise of the reward awaiting her. But she liked the sergeant, and moreover she enjoyed this particular endeavor, and so she took her time, exploring him with delicate fingertips and playful flicks of her tongue, breathing in his scent. Despite his passivity, he was unconsciously pushing with his hips long before she opened her mouth and took him inside.

The sergeant gave a strangled groan, his hands balling into fists as her warm, wet mouth closed over him. Elissa let her tongue cradle the underside of his cock as her lips pushed on the gliding skin, then pulled it smoothly forward, and then pushed back again, letting its loose slide aid the motion of her mouth as she took him in deeper with no friction whatsoever.

The unfortunate side-effect of her pregnancy which heightened her gag reflex made it difficult to take him as deep as she wished to, but his willingness to allow her to control the matter encouraged her, and so she pressed forward, taking him deep. Inevitably her throat spasmed and she withdrew, drawing a deep calming breath and hoping that she would not disgrace herself by vomiting on his boots. Suddenly, she realized how diabolical Zevran was to set her this particular task, for he was well aware of her difficulties in this regard. To mask her discomposure she stroked him with her hand, using her saliva to aid the motion, which she dipped her head low and began to caress his sac with her tongue.

Kylon grunted loudly, issuing another invocation to the Maker as he thrust with his hips, opening his thighs to give her better access. Here, too, she drew out her ministrations, laving his balls with long, slow, firm strokes of her tongue, drawing them gently into her mouth, sucking carefully. With the fingers of her free hand she teased the ridge of skin behind his sack, all the way back to the knotted ring of his anus. He bucked when her finger first brushed gently over it, and she withdrew, wary of alarming him.

When she was confident her throat was not going to rebel, Elissa took him into her mouth once more, using her hand to apply pressure far down toward the base where her lips could not reasonably go. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked hard on the head of his cock, pumping rapidly up and down with her mouth as far and deep as she dared. She felt his fingers in her hair, trembling, but still he made no effort to guide or force her. It was a rare gift, she thought, to have a man so utterly willing to let her pleasure him without making any attempt to exert his will upon her.

And still she did not rush. When she felt him beginning to get overwhelmed, she backed off, licking long, slow lines along his cock from his balls to the tip, using her teeth with delicate care. Her finger teased his rear again and when he did not react with shock or alarm, she grew bolder, pushing gently and feeling the ring begin to loosen for her. The persistant tremble in his body let her know he was reaching the limit of his endurance and she took him into her mouth again, pumping and sucking eagerly and greedily, with no further effort at teasing or delaying.

Her finger slid into his backside and his cock began to swell and grow harder, less yielding. He groaned again, loudly, desperately, and his entire body quaked as he hovered on the brink. A gentle wiggle of her fingertip and a long, pulling suck and suddenly the rich flavor of his seed was flooding her mouth, salty and thick and creamy. Elissa let herself savor it, rather than swallowing right away. She let it linger on her tongue, fill her cheeks, before letting it slide slowly down her throat, sipping rather than gulping.

"Maker's breath," the sergeant breathed, unable or unwilling to stir himself from where he slumped against the wall. Sighing with satisfaction, Elissa tucked him back into his chauses and laced them, then replaced the protective leather codpiece. "Warden, I don't know how to--"

"Don't thank me," Elissa said softly, meeting his eyes with a smile. "Understand that some of us know just how impossible your task is with Arl Howe's swine overrunning the city. I will do what I can to help while I am here."

"Well, then, let me say that what you have done--all that you have done--is deeply appreciated," his tone and expression were solemn. "I don't know why you did it, but I'm grateful. I promise I will do what I can to try to set aright some of the terrible things being said about the Grey Wardens. I should be getting back to my men and get them safely back to the marketplace where they can't get themselves killed. Come see me, perhaps tomorrow. I may have more work for you. I mean... actual work, not...."

"I know what you meant, Sergeant. I will see you tomorrow if my business permits me to linger in the city that long," Elissa acknowledged, and turned from him, leading him back into the alley where Zevran and Kylon's wounded men awaited.

When the sergeant and his men were gone, Zevran grinned and gestured her closer. "You and the sergeant were gone some time. Have you completed your task then?"

Elissa looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Did you have any doubt?"

He grabbed her arm, pulling her closer. "I would test this for myself," he announced, and kissed her, his tongue probing her mouth deeply. He made a low, pleased sound, and the kiss became a longer affair than any mere desire to test could account for.

When Zevran finally pulled away, he sighed contentedly. "Ah, my sweet Warden, perhaps the only thing more agreeable than your mouth with the taste of a man still lingering on your tongue is your mouth with the taste of a woman on your tongue instead," he praised, and Elissa felt that heavy, flooding pressure deep within, pulsing urgently. "And lucky man that I am, I have experienced both in the same day."

"Maker, Zevran! If you don't fuck me soon--I mean really fuck me, complete with release--I'm going to go screaming mad," she groaned in frustration.

He laughed at that. "All in good time, dear Warden. For now, I'm sure our companions are quite concerned for us, yes?"

"Andraste's tits," Elissa cursed, arousal fading as the spell of Zevran's skillful, prolonged seduction was broken. "They're probably frantic by now. We were supposed to meet them hours ago. It's practically evening already and we still don't know what Leliana has found out about Brother Genitivi."

Elissa set off at a brisk pace toward the market district where their companions were awaiting them at the appointed tavern. It turned out she need not have worried quite so much. Alistair was with them as well, for while they had been waiting Leliana and Wynne had taken it upon themselves to do some odd jobs posted on the Chantry board to bolster the party's dwindling funds and had recruited Alistair to aid them.

She felt Alistair's eyes on her throughout the meal they ate at the tavern. She looked away., trying to dismiss the memory of their moment against the side of Goldanna's house and how badly she wanted him. Even now, even knowing she'd almost certainly be fucking Zevran tonight. Still, she wanted him, wanted him to somehow magically arrive at a place of acceptance so that she could have him. And still he stared, his eyes hungry and uncertain, distracting her as she tried to attend to Leliana's report of the troubling news from Brother Genitivi's house.

"His assistant, Weylon, there was something not right about him," Leliana said, frowning as Wynne nodded. "He was very nervous, and at least some of what he told me was clearly a lie. And there was this smell in the house. I think something had died there."

"Were you able to get anything useful from him?" Elissa asked.

"He said Brother Genitivi was last at Lake Calenhad, but I'm not sure that is the entire story. With just Wynne and myself, I didn't dare confront him with his lies."

"We shall all go tomorrow, then, and find out what he's trying to hide," Elissa decided. "With the extra coin you and Wynne and Alistair made for us today, we may as well stay an extra day and get more provisions, especially if it turns out we're going to have to drag ourselves all the back back across Ferelden to Lake Calenhad or Maker knows where else. We need more winter gear, the full cold is nearly upon us. Morrigan and Sten can see to that, and we'll attend to this Weylon fellow while they do. Since we're staying another day, I may as well pay another visit to Sergeant Kylon, as he indicated he may have more work for us as well."

When the tavernkeep asked if their party would like rooms for the night, Elissa regretfully started to decline, for their finances would barely allow for it. Then she paused. She felt guilty thinking of the warm bath she'd had aboard Isabela's ship, for none of her other companions had enjoyed such a luxury in weeks. It would strain their resources to the very limit, but Maker only knew when they would next have the opportunity.

"Yes," she said finally, and her heart lightened to see the delight illuminate their faces. Even Morrigan and Sten looked somewhat less surly than usual. "Rooms with hot baths for all of us. If anyone doesnt mind sharing a room, however, it will save us some money."

"Leliana and I can share, if she has no objection," Wynne said, smiling kindly at Elissa. The maternal approval warmed her, made her feel certain she'd made the wiser choice in her extravagance. "After so many years in the Tower, it would feel odd to have a whole room to myself."

"We will not need a room," Zevran murmured to Elissa, too low for the others to hear. "We still must keep our appointment with Master Ignacio. If it doesn't take all night--which I'm quite certain it will--Master Ignacio will see to our lodgings."

Elissa stared at him in dismay. "But--I thought we would--"

"I'm sorry, my dear Warden," he shrugged, looking somewhat put out himself. "But Master Ignacio is not a man it is wise to keep waiting, yes?"

Slowly, Elissa swallowed her frustration, only to find it replaced with dread over whatever trial Master Ignacio had in store for her. Resigning herself to at least another few hours before Zevran's game came to an end, she nodded.

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