Reverse-Cowgirl Diplomacy

Nock an arrow. Draw. Release.

Sight the next target.

Nock. Draw. Release.

Elissa's fingers and arms were abominably weary. Her bow-string twanged as she loosed another arrow, echoed an instant later by Leliana's own bow as she stood beside Elissa. The undead monstrosity attempting to flank Sten went down with an arrow in its neck, and another in its temple.

She nocked another arrow.

The waves of creatures were becoming thinner and less frequent. The ground was littered with corpses, very few of them human. Triumph began to sing through Elissa's heart as she knew, knew they had won the night.

Suddenly, there were no more undead creatures charging them, either from the lake or from the bridge to the castle. Everyone stood still, poised and alert, bows and swords ready, and still nothing emerged to attack them.

Swords drooped. Bows were lowered. And slowly, a sound began to build, the exultant cheering of dozens of victorious voices, quickly escalating to a night-shattering cacophony.

Smiling, relieved, Elissa propped her bow against the wall of the chantry and turned to approach the mayor and make arrangements to stand down the village and return the people to their homes.

She took one step and then the world swam. The ground rushed up to meet her and then everything was dark.


*****


Tired. She was so very tired. Her arms ached. She wanted to keep her eyes closed and sleep. And yet she could hear concerned voices speaking above her. She opened bleary eyes and a masculine face hovered over her, brow etched with worry.

"Cailan?" she croaked. And then she remembered. Her eyes popped open, suddenly alert.

Not Cailan.

Alistair.

Who was now looking for all the world like he'd just been run through with a spear. His face was pale as he stared at her, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"Lady Cousland--Elissa--are you all right?" another voice asked, and Elissa turned her head to see Bann Teagan standing on her other side. She'd been moved, she realized, and now she was lying on a pew inside the chantry.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she reassured him, swinging her legs off the pew and sitting up. "Sorry, I just...fell asleep on my feet, I think. I dare say we're all quite tired."

Slowly, Teagan nodded. "Yes. I had thought we would try to enter the castle after the memorial service this morning, but now I see that would be quite foolhardy, not knowing what we may encounter there. We all need rest before we can make the attempt. We'll take the day to recuperate and try the castle first thing tomorrow morning."

After the memorial, Alistair fell in step with Elissa as she made her way wearily toward the small camp they'd made along the road leading into Redcliffe.

"So...being a teyrn's daughter, you knew the king pretty well, I take it?" he asked cautiously.

"I wouldn't say that," Elissa replied evasively. "I never spent much time at court. Actually, I never met him until I reached Ostagar."

"Yet you were on a first name basis with him?"

"He told me he didn't like titles and gave me leave to call him by his name."

"I see." Clearly her answers didn't satisfy Alistair, and he fell into a disgruntled silence.

Elissa cursed herself, first for her slip in calling Alistair by Cailan's name, and then for her own unwillingness to simply confess the truth of the matter to him. She could not keep her pregnancy secret from him for long, and once it was known, he would naturally be curious about the father. And yet....

His innocence made her feel awkward. She felt like she was forever having to conceal from him the very truth of who she was for fear that he would handle it badly. And right now, she was simply too weary for a confrontation.

Besides, she had a long night ahead of her.

She slept in her tent until late afternoon and awoke ravenous. Thankfully, a good deal of food had been delivered to their camp during the day by the women of the village, gestures of gratitude for their efforts in saving the town. Elissa spent much of the meal daydreaming, summoning erotic images to mind to warm herself up for the events to come, drawing on her years of lessons in sensuality to arouse herself. She imagined the glorious sensation of fullness of having a cock within her, the salty taste of semen on her tongue, the warm, rough feel of hands on her breasts. Sweet, sizzling anticipation settled in the very core of her body, poised like a tightly sealed bud ready to burst into bloom with the first warm rays of the sun.

And then Leliana's voice reached her ears. "Are you coming with us to the tavern, Sten?"

"No."

"And what of you, Morrigan?"

"Spend my evening in a tavern packed with stinking villagers? Hardly."

Elissa opened her eyes slowly, refusing to allow herself to panic and lose the delicious languor flooding her body. "You're intending to go to the tavern?" she asked, her voice deliberately calm.

"Why yes. Alistair and I heard there was to be some sort of celebration for the militia there. You don't think they'll mind if we attend as well, do you?"

"No, they won't. And yes, there is to be a celebration. I made them a promise, and I intend to keep it." Elissa pushed herself up to her feet. "Very well, then. I suppose we'd best be going."

She would do this. She would not let herself have second thoughts, or regrets. She owed these men more than to go into this nervous and reluctant.

If this was how Alistair and Leliana were to learn of the way she dealt with people, so be it. She was what she was, what her family had raised her to be--a woman who reveled in the pleasures of the flesh, who used them to her advantage. She would not pretend, and she would not be shamed.

Elissa walked silently beside them until they reached the tavern door, then stopped them. "Whatever happens inside, you are not to interfere. If you're offended, keep it to yourself or leave. My only concern is with rewarding these men, not with any of your delicate sensibilities that might be injured. Do not interfere, do not make a spectacle, do not spoil this, for me or them."

"What--?" But she opened the tavern door before Alistair could complete his question.

The roar that greeted her was staggering. Bella quickly appeared at her side and pressed a foaming tankard of ale into her hand. She was dragged away from Alistair and Leliana, and from the corner of her eye she saw them make their way to a far table. Bella escorted her to a long table in the center of the tavern and helped her climb atop it.

"Gentlemen!" Elissa cried, lifting her tankard high. "To victory!"

Another deafening round of cheers, as she raised her tankard to her lips and drank deeply of the mellow amber ale.

She handed the tankard back to Bella and looked out over the exuberant crowd as they fell silent to hear what else she would say. "I cannot express my joy at seeing how many of you have made it through, nor my indescribable sorrow at the fact that there are some who did not make it to be with us tonight. Those men will be mourned in their good time, however. Tonight, on the other hand, is for those of us who have lived. Now...I believe I made you men a promise, did I not?" she asked with a teasing smile, and was answered by more clamorous shouting and applause.

Her hands loosened the laces of her simple linen tunic and slowly, making a show of it, she drew it over her head and tossed it to Bella, then spun slowly, her arms spread wide, giving them all a good look at her breasts. In the far corner, she could see Alistair's stunned expression, his face deep crimson. Leliana looked somewhat less astonished, but then, despite her deep personal faith, perhaps she was possessed of an Orlesian's decadent sensibilities.

When the whistles and catcalls died down, she untied the drawstring of her breeches, bending over much further than was strictly necessary to make sure they got a fine view of her ass and just a hint of her cunt. She pushed them down her legs, revealing the fact that she wore no smallclothes beneath. Then she stood, her face flushed with excitement, and her heart giddy.

"While the promise I extended was to each and every one of you, I think, perhaps, it's not inappropriate to grant first honors to certain notable individuals without whom the defense of the village would not have been possible, wouldn't you agree?" Her eyes landed on a familiar face in the crowd. "Mayor Murdock?"

Once the shouting died down again, he shook his head, blushing. "My thanks, Warden, but my wife would have my balls."

"Very well then. Dwyn, as my personal thanks for your valiant defense of the village?" she looked over at the dwarf who sat between his henchmen, watching the spectacle avidly.

"Heh, damn right I'll have my turn, but you'll want to warm up a bit before you take me on, missy," he chuckled.

Elissa arched a brow at him, giggling gaily. "Oh, a challenge! Very well, then, shall you draw straws?"

"Let the virgin have first go!" a voice shouted. Alarmed, Elissa looked over at Alistair, who was being physically restrained from interfering by Leliana's hand clutching his tunic. But then another voice called, "Yeah, let Tomas have the honors!"

Tomas? Elissa's eyes scanned the crowd and landed upon the brilliantly blushing lad that had greeted them when they first approached Redcliffe, who slowly came to his feet as another riotous burst of cheering rocked the tavern. "Take 'is cherry, Warden!" a third voice yelled.

Elissa gave an exaggerated bow of assent, extending her hand to the suddenly trembling young man. "Tomas?" she said kindly. "I shall be honored if you would join me."

Tomas took her hand, stepping up onto the table beside her, and she drew him in for a kiss. Beneath the roar of approving cheers, she murmured to him, "You may feel free to refuse, if you wish."

Unable to speak, he shook his head emphatically and with a merry laugh, Elissa began to unlace his breeches. Then her mouth went dry, and another chorus of shouts rose as the crowd got a view.

The lad was...rather generously endowed. Not enormous, but certainly larger than average. Another pang of warm tension cramped between her legs as she envisioned taking that into her still-tight body.

She smiled and pushed him down onto the table. She thought of stroking him with her hands, or her mouth, but no...the young man looked fit to burst already; he'd not likely last long if she stimulated him any further. So instead she kissed him again, deeply, as she straddled his body. She positioned the head of his cock between her folds, and slowly, oh so slowly, began to lower herself.

Tight...so tight. She carefully stretched around him, aware that she would have to go slowly and gently if she ever wished to make it through the night in relative comfort. Every nerve in her cunt sang as the head of his cock passed into her. She bit her lip, her eyes closed with ecstasy, stretching...oh, oh Maker, stretching...Already a sheen of sweat made her skin glow in the warm lantern-light of the tavern as inch by inch she took Tomas's cock into her body.

She became aware of some abrupt, violent jostling and opened her eyes just far enough to see Alistair pushing his way frantically toward the door of the tavern, a large wet stain on the front on his breeches. The sight sent a pang of sadness through her, but she dismissed it with an impatient shake her her head. He was not her concern right now. She looked down at Tomas and his rapturous expression as he slid the last inch into her, filling her...sweet Andraste, so full!

"Here, Tomas," she said, settling over him. She took his hand and placed the flat of his thumb directly on her clit. "This is where you pleasure a woman, right here. No matter what else you learn about lovemaking, always remember that."

Tomas groaned, giving an involuntary bump with his hips, and pressed his thumb into her nub. A small orgasm rippled through her almost instantly. Seeing it, the men cheered, and Elissa began to laugh. She laughed with pleasure, with relief, with the sheer joy of being alive, with the blissful glory of being filled with cock. She reveled in being young and alive and at the power her sensuality gave her. Right here, right now, she owned these men, even the ones who would never touch her, tonight or ever. She had brought them through a nightmare alive, and they were hers.

The bouncing spasms of her laughter brought young Tomas to a quick end, bucking frantically as he spent within her, and the feeling of his shudders and spurts dragged more peals of laughter from her. She giggled against his mouth when she kissed him one last time before rolling off him. Discreetly, she wiped the seed from her thighs with a towel Bella provided and came to her feet atop the table once more. She grabbed the nearest tankard and drained it.

"Who's next?" she shouted triumphantly over the din of cheers and tankards slamming on tables.

The evening went on and on. She made a point of learning the names of every man who approached her. And they did approach her, sometimes two or three at a time. She took them all, even the ones who came back more than once. She took them in her cunt, in her ass, deep in her throat. Hands stroked her hair, her breasts, her clit, bringing her to one orgasm after another. She rode one with another in her hand and yet another in her mouth. She rocked between two men, felt them stroke one another through the membrane between her cunt and her as the one behind her kneaded her breasts and a third man sprayed an insane quantity of semen on her tongue.

She enjoyed them, let herself have fun with them, flirted and made bawdy jokes with them. She played with their balls, fingered their asses, drank their seed like it was the finest vintage of wine, and through it all, giddy bursts of laughter erupted from her with each orgasm.

She was intoxicated. Drunk on ale. Drunk on sensuality. Drunk on the thick, musky scent of cum. Drunk on freedom and life and power.

Dwyn was as good as his word, taking his turn. His cock was much like the dwarf himself, short but incredibly broad and strong. It was a struggle to get her jaws around him, and when he pushed her onto her back and thrust into her cunt, riding her with furiously vigorous thrusts, she came immediately and loudly.

As exhaustion began to set in and she began to reach the point where she was certain she could not possibly take another cock, Bella stepped up, her eyes shining and ale on her breath. She stripped off her tunic and skirt and lay beside Elissa for a long moment, kissing her deeply, softly, her silken skin stroking over Elissa's as her hands found Elissa's tender breasts and gently pulled at her nipples.

She shimmied up Elissa's body and Elissa took Bella's nipple in her mouth, stroking it with her tongue. She alternated hard, deep sucks with short, shallow pulls where she just barely passed the nipple quickly between her lips, until Bella was shuddering and pumping her hips restlessly, humping Elissa's thigh, slicking it with the fluids seeping from between her folds.

She knelt above Elissa on the table, her knees on either side of Elissa's head, and bent forward, bringing her mouth down to Elissa's cunt as she lowered her own cunt onto Elissa's face.

Elissa drove her tongue deep into Bella, lapped at her clit, sipped the tangy, smoky essence from her folds. Bella's tongue stirred Elissa's weary clit gently back to life and when her fingers delved into Elissa's seed-filled cunt, the vibrations of Elissa's moans on Bella's clit sent an answering ripple through Bella. The avidly watching men groaned and fondled themselves as they saw Bella taste the cum leaking out from Elissa's body.

Elissa reached down and gently rolled Bella's nipple between her fingers with one hand, while the fingers of her other hand slipped inside Bella and began fucking her, slowly and gently at first, then hard and fast. Bella forgot about licking Elissa's cunt and lay her head on Elissa's thigh, moaning and rolling her hips. She yelled and thrashed when Elissa's fingers crooked within her and came screaming and sobbing, with Elissa's tongue jabbing her clit, three of Elissa's fingers fucking her.

Bella's lips tasted of Elissa's moisture and salty semen when at last she rose from the table and bestowed upon Elissa one last languorous kiss. Leliana came forward then and helped Elissa to her feet, helped her dress when her weary hands fumbled with her clothing. She escorted Elissa out of the tavern amid raucous cheers and into the strange silence of the night outside.

"Well," Leliana said at last. "That was...interesting."

"You don't seem shocked."

"One sees many things when entertaining Orlesian nobility," Leliana shrugged. "I admire what you did, giving those men a reason not to despair, giving them hope to see them through last night's battle."

"It's not like I didn't get anything out of it myself," Elissa said wryly.

Leliana gave a thoughtful hum. "Yes, I could see that as well. It was a very...affecting demonstration."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Oh, I did indeed. Your tastes appear to be much the same as my own; I've made no secret of the fact that I enjoy the company of women, no?"

"Are you trying to proposition me now?" Elissa asked, smiling.

"I'm very tempted to, but...I think it would not work, between us."

"Whyever not?"

"You seem more capable than I of enjoying lovemaking without love. Not that I haven't had my pleasures, but I prefer a certain amount of exclusivity, you see."

"Ah. Yes, I'm afraid exclusivity is not really my forte."

"But I did enjoy the performance," Leliana said with a hint of mischief. "Very much so."

Alistair was brooding by the campfire when they returned to camp. Despite the fact that Elissa wanted nothing more than a bucket of warm water and her bedroll, she knew she would have to deal with him and sat across from him at the fire.

"I almost left tonight, you know," he said at last, as though begrudging the necessity to speak. "I almost took off and left all this behind. If it weren't for the Blight and my duty as a Grey Warden, I would have. How could you--why would you--I don't even know what to call that! 'Perversion' seems a good word to start with."

"Really?" Elissa asked, arching a brow at him. "Says whom? The men in the tavern tonight obviously didn't find it perverted."

"Well, the Chantry, for one."

"Really. The Chantry. Hmm."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I find it interesting that you would find the Chantry's opinions on this subject so inviolable," she mused. "Tell me, what's more perverse? Offering desperate men the hope of an evening filled with free and enjoyable sex as a reward for surviving a near-hopeless battle? Or forcing young, healthy men to adjure all hope of sex and companionship for the rest of their lives and then addicting them to lyrium, condemning them to eventual madness, essentially enslaving them so that they might hunt and imprison other people whose only crime is having been born with the ability to do magic?"

"One has nothing to do with the other!" Alistair protested.

"No? If the Chantry is wrong with regards to how they treat templars and mages, why can't they be wrong about sex, as well? Clearly, the philosophies of the Chantry are fallible on any number of fronts."

"I'm not going to debate theology with you," Alistair said wearily. "Maybe you're right, maybe the Chantry has got it wrong. But that doesn't make what you did tonight any less of a disgrace. If nothing else, it reflects badly on the Grey Wardens. Don't you care what people may think of us? Duncan would never--"

"Duncan recruited me knowing full well what I was."

"And what is that?" Alistair asked snidely.

"A woman who uses sex to achieve her ends."

"You mean a harlot."

"You might call it that, if you chose," Elissa shrugged. "I don't sell myself for money. But I do use my body for any number of reasons, and often simply because I enjoy it. Duncan didn't recruit me solely for my skills with a bow."

"You're lying. Duncan was not a panderer. He would never have done such a thing."

"He would and he did," Elissa insisted. "Duncan was a kind man, a good man. I respected and admired him very much. But he was also a man of passion, and a devout pragmatist. He was willing to do whatever was necessary to further the cause of the Grey Wardens and end the Blight. He cared about results, not about some arbitrary set of rules known as morality. I was to be his 'goodwill ambassador' and help ease matters on the diplomatic front."

"Are you saying he--"

"Fucked me? Oh, yes," Elissa purred, taking some cruel satisfaction in shocking him, for his condemnation injured her more than she cared to admit. "And my mother as well, while my father watched. He was a great friend of the Couslands and my parents were always happy to entertain him."

"Maker's blood! Why am I listening to this?" Alistair rubbed a hand across his brow. His next question came reluctantly, as though he was compelled to ask against his own will. "Your parents? Honestly?"

"You must understand about my family. I started receiving tutelage in the erotic arts just before I turned twelve years old--initially simply in theory, of course; no one touched me at that age. I was taught by my mother, who had at one time indeed been a whore. She and my father were great partners. They loved each other deeply, they loved their children deeply, and between Father's skills as a diplomat and negotiator and Mother's more sensual abilities, they were able to bring a great deal of wealth and prosperity to the Cousland name and Highever. They had such success using sex as a part of their dealings with others that they felt it was imperative to pass that skill-set on to their children."

"When I became a woman, I began my tuition. At first, I simply read erotic texts, books that had been banned by the Chantry. I was taught about my own body, encouraged to explore myself and find what brought me pleasure. I was never asked to do anything I was unwilling to do, and it was made very clear to me that if I did not wish to learn I was not required to do so. As time passed, I acquired more practical skills. I began to practice fellatio using small, warmed yams and cucumbers. I learned cunnilingus using peaches that had a very narrow slice removed so that I had to delve inside to reach the pith with my tongue, the sweet juices dripping down my chin. It wasn't until I was fifteen that I was permitted to exercise my skills on another person, and even then I remained a maiden up until the day I arrived at Ostagar."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I won't change, Alistair. I won't change, and I won't be shamed. Not by you, not by anyone. This is where my area of expertise lies. I'm good at it, and I'm proud of it. And if using these skills of mine will keep us alive and get us through this Blight--as Duncan intended me to do--then that is what I will do. Moreover, I would fuck Maferath himself right next to Andraste's own pyre if it will put me in a position where I may mete justice to Arl Howe and Teyrn Loghain. You can either accept it, and accept me, or you can remain silent, because I will not be lectured by you, of all people, on the morality of the Chantry."

Rising, she stretched, uncomfortably aware of how sticky she was. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going down to the lake to bathe. I'd recommend you get some rest. We'll likely have a long day tomorrow, depending on what we find in the castle."

Her heart was heavy as she made her way down to the lake. Conscious of the signs advising against swimming, she stripped on the pebbly shore of the lake and waded in the shallows. The water was frigid with the approaching winter, but she braved it nonetheless, finding it bracing after the heat of the tavern and so many bodies. She splashed water over her body, washing away the sweat from her skin, and the seed from her thighs. She poured a bucket of water over her hair and washed it with a mild soap until the odor of smoke and ale and sex was gone. The cheer and exultation she'd felt in the tavern had fled, leaving her as morose and introspective as the water left her chilled and shivering.

Alistair's accusations had hurt, despite her confessed pride. She was not ashamed of who she was, and yet...his opinion mattered to her. He was a truly good man. She wanted him to think well of her, admire her, respect her. She was deeply afraid that he never would again, and that loss meant more to her than she cared to admit.

She dried herself and dressed in a clean tunic and breeches, but felt a strange reluctance to return to the campsite. Instead, she wandered the village until she found herself outside the chantry. Sighing, she opened the door and entered the darkened sanctuary.

All was silent within. All the townsfolk had returned to their homes, and Mother Hannah had retired to her small rectory cottage behind the chantry proper. Elissa walked to the front of the chantry and sank down upon a pew, pulling her feet up to rest her chin on her knees. She yearned for her mother and father, to tell her she had done well and that there was no shame in using her body for the purpose the Maker had given it. She yearned for Duncan and his understanding pragmatism, for the approval he would certainly bestow upon what she had accomplished. She yearned for Cailan, that she might tell him about the child within her and see his exuberant glee at the news.

"Lady Cousland? I mean, Elissa?" a soft, rich voice inquired, and the shadows leading to the back rooms of the chantry resolved themselves into a human shape.

"Bann Teagan? I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here. I hope I didn't disturb you."

"No, not at all. I was just...wandering. After so many nights of fear and uncertainty, I am finding it hard to rest."

"That seems to be a common theme, tonight."

"Well, I imagine most of the militiamen staggering out of the tavern tonight will rest well," he said with a sly grin.

"Ah. So you heard about that."

"Yes. I was tempted to attend myself, but I figured it would be...inappropriate. Those men were the heroes who saved the village, not me."

Elissa stared at him. "Really? So I'm not going to receive another chastening on just how shameless and disgraceful I am?"

"After what you've accomplished here? I'm hardly going to question your methods."

Disquieted, Elissa rose and paced to a bookcase, scanning the titles on the spines of the volumes within. None of the tomes with which she was most familiar were there, and she shook her head in amazement, wondering why that was. Not that she really needed to wonder. She and her parents had shared many conversations about the conflict between their open acceptance of sexuality and the Chantry's attempt to repress it.

To maintain such a rigid control over a population that you can dictate their very beliefs, pup, you must somehow exert control over their basest, most fundamental instincts, her father's voice lectured. Make them believe that their primal impulses require the approval of the Chantry to fulfill, and people will do anything the Chantry demands to win that approval.

Hands closed over her shoulders, interrupting her maudlin turn of mind, and she found herself drawn back against Teagan's chest. He pressed his face against her still-damp hair, and murmured, "I didn't attend, but I wanted to. And if you're willing, I would like to have my turn now."

Elissa drew a deep breath, warmth suffusing her body as he kissed the back of her neck, his hands stroking down her shoulders.

"No," she whispered. His hands fell away immediately.

"I'm sorry--"

"I will not let you fuck me, Teagan," she said, turning to look at him and laying a hand alongside his face. "However, I should very much like it if you would make love to me."

His kiss was gentle, sweet, clean. Slowly, they stripped one another of their clothes and made their way back to the front pew where she'd sat, and there he knelt between her knees and bent over, bringing her to a soft, shuddering climax with his lips and tongue. When he straightened, her legs locked around his waist, her ankles crossed above his backside, as he guided himself between her folds and entered her with slow, exquisite care. His hands weighed her breasts, thumbs stoking skillfully over her nipples as he moved within her. He kissed her face, her neck, her shoulders reverently.

When the building waves of her orgasm next broke through her, it came like a blessing, a benediction, the light of Andraste's own grace shining down upon her. Peacefully, she subsided within his arms and as she felt felt the warm rush of his seed within her, she knew joy.

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