The Sound of Her Voice

TITLE: The Sound of Her Voice
AUTHOR: WotanAnubis
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Dragon Age: Origins are any of its characters. No profit is being made.
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Leliana/PC
NOTE: Curiously, I found Leliana's singing scene to be quite romantic, and the sex scene to be rather silly. I suppose that's why I've written... well, this quick little fic.


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Morrigan walked into the circle of light and sat down next to the campfire, opposite of Alistair. He raised an amused eyebrow.

"Decided to grace us with your presence?" he said.

"Who is this 'us'?" Morrigan replied. "It's just you and me here."

"So you came to talk to me? I'm flattered."

"Hardly," Morrigan said. "You know why I'm here."

Alistair nodded uncomfortably. Wordlessly, the both turned to look at the white tent standing just outside the light of the fire and listened to Leliana sing.

She didn't sing very loudly and they weren't her audience. But it was a quiet night and Leliana's voice carried far during quiet nights. Even muted by the tent's canvas, it was almost possible to make out the words. Of course, they'd invariably be elven words and so Morrigan wouldn't have been able to understand them even if she'd been singing loudly. But, then again, she didn't need to understand the words to know what the song meant.

Alistair understood it just as much as she did, so he cleared his throat noisily and rose to his feet.

"It's about time for me to take the next watch," he announced.

"Then leave," Morrigan snapped. "Quietly."

Alistair looked at her as though he was about to say something, but evidently thought better of it. He turned and walked away into the night. He always did. Morrigan envied him for it. Even though his feelings of being an intruder were laughable, at least he'd never heard Leliana's song end.

Sometimes, Morrigan wished she'd never heard it end either.

-----

Leliana sang softly, stroking the red hair of the elven mage lying contently in her lap as she did so. She didn't know exactly what she was singing, even though she'd been picking up bits and pieces of elvish for weeks now. She knew the song was about a huntress, chasing various beautiful animals through the woods, but never quite catching any of them, until at last she reached the heart of the forest and found its spirit, but that was about the extent of it.

She'd become something of an expert on elven songs recently. If someone were to tell her that she knew more elven songs than any other human in Ferelden, she wouldn't be too surprised. It was a bit of a shame, really. Even if she didn't understand the words, most of their songs were beautiful and she felt more people should hear them. But they wouldn't hear them from her. These songs she only sang for the elven mage lying contently in her lap.

At first it had been difficult to get a read on Neria. She could be so closed-off, so businesslike. She appeared to the world as a woman of steel, determined and cold. Yet she always listened to whoever needed her help, she always tried to be kind. It had been somewhat puzzling. In Leliana's experience, most people were the other way around; warm and caring on the outside, but cold and unfeeling on the inside. Before she'd joined the Chantry, there had even been a time she'd thought everyone was like that.

Songs brought that inner warmth to the surface. Of course, she had become more openly kind around her in any case, but always there would be that hint of steel. Only when she sang would even that steel disappear from her, for a moment. Perhaps they made her feel connected to a heritage she knew nothing about, perhaps they made her remember what elves had been and could maybe be again.

Perhaps she just liked to hear her sing.

Leliana had never asked and didn't want to know the answer in any case. She just wanted Neria to enjoy her songs and forget about steel for a while.

Absolute silence filled the tent when the last of the words left Leliana's lips. She looked down at the red-haired elf looking up at her. Neria smiled, faintly, but warmly and without steel in her eyes. She righted herself, kneeling in front of her, thanked her simply with the look on her face and kissed her without a word.

Leliana had kissed many people in her life, men and women alike, and most of them had been far better at it than Neria. Mages probably didn't have much room for this kind of intimacy in their lives. She wasn't clumsy, exactly, but she was hesitant and unsure. No doubt she could teach her to become a better kisser, or take over and guide her lips. But she didn't, because she didn't want to. To her, kissing was just another taught skill, just another tool in a bard's arsenal. When she kissed Neria it always felt a bit mechanical, no matter how genuine her emotion. No, she much prefered Neria's warm uncertainty over any kind of cold perfection. Besides, she would get better at it. She just needed to practise. And Leliana fully intended to give her that practise.

Neria drew back, leaving Leliana momentarily breathless. It always surprised her how warm she felt after kissing her and she always regretted not feeling that warmth while she was kissing her, even though she knew it was there.

Leliana breathed in deeply when Neria kissed her again. This time she kissed her neck with a lot more confidence than she had her lips and felt her hands gently grab her nightgown. It was a simple thing, common and unadorned, its only saving grace that it could be taken off so very easily. The crude garment landed unheeded in one of the corners of the tent, revealing to Neria that Leliana had lately given up a lifetime's habit of wearing underwear underneath her nightclothes. She then wasted no time in taking the elf's nightgown off. It, too, was a plain thing and quickly discarded, revealing her slender, naked body.

For a moment, Leliana felt the urge to hold her close, to feel her warm skin on her own. She was so small and delicate compared to her own, human self. She knew Neria was nowhere near as frail as she seemed, but that didn't diminish her desire to cradle her and shield her from her burden. Neria had other plans, however, putting a hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her down onto her back.

Leliana gasped when she felt Neria's soft lips on her breasts and felt the warmth within her own body beginning to rise. The mage began kissing her breasts, slowly but intently and every time her lips met her skin Leliana's arousal glowed just that much brighter. Neria's lips wandered across her chest, seemingly without direction and with no apparent purpose other than to feel her breasts with her lips and tend to them with her tongue. Leliana moaned softly when she felt the elf's slender tongue lap at her warm flesh, leaving a thin, glistening trail of saliva on her skin.

Neria became more eager now, her kisses becoming faster, her tongue more active. Leliana squirmed slightly, her aroused body beginning to wish her elven lover would direct her kisses elsewhere. She did not give voice to that growing desire, other than, perhaps, by breathing in more deeply, more heavily than before. In a past life, she would have had her hand in her companion's hair, gently yet forcibly guiding them down her body. Now, she would not dream of telling her lover to do anything, happy to have her play with her naked body whichever way she liked.

Leliana moaned with arousal and sighed with lust. She felt the tip of Neria's tongue being dragged from the curve of her breasts to near one of her sensitive nipples, which it circled quickly a few times before closed around it. Leliana yelped, her back lifting itself off the ground for a brief instant as the elven mage softly sucked on her nipple. Then her lips were gone again, kissing their way downwards, making the red-haired bard whine with desire.

Leliana felt the tiniest tremor of nerves enter her heated body when Neria's lips left her breasts and kissed her bare stomach. It was a strange sensation, yet it was also becoming more familiar the longer she was with her elven lover. Normally... that is, before the Maker had decided to join her with Neria she had felt nothing but eagerness when an attractive young woman lowered herself down there. Yet now she could not deny a small trace of apprehension at the prospect, even though she wanted nothing more right now than to feel her lips between her legs.

She felt nervous because she knew that soon she would no longer be in control of her own body. Even though she was already squirming and gasping and moaning under Neria's gentle kisses, she could still stop her if she wanted to. Could still force her body to calm itself and douse her arousal. If she wanted to. But once her lover was between her legs, even that meager control would be taken from her. She did not mind this. She had willingly given herself to her, after all. It was just... she had never before realised that it was possible for anyone to give themselves to another so completely. It was a little frightening sometimes. But it was also something she wanted from the depths of her soul.

Something between a moan and a scream escaped from Leliana's mouth when Neria lips brushed against her wetness. Her squirming body began shaking, her hands feebly clawing at the ground, as her elven lover softly kissed her way up and down her slit. She screamed and panted and moaned, filling the tent with her lustful voice, even as the tiniest little flick of Neria's delicate tongue sent raw pleasure shivering through her. She moaned long and loudly whenever her mage kissed her slit or lapped at her folds and panted and whined whenever she wasn't, struggling between the need for more breath and the need for more pleasure. Part of her felt embarrassed that an experienced seductress like herself could so easily be filled with pure lust by the inexpert tongue of a young mage. But with every kiss, more and more of that part of herself burned away, leaving only Leliana.

A single, high-pitched shriek tore through the constant moans when Leliana felt the tip of Neria's tongue circle her clit. Pleasure roared through her, her quaking body seemingly uncertain on whether it wanted to flee the elf's mouth or get impossibly closer to it and having no say in the matter either way. The mage's tongue darted all around it, dancing on the sensitive skin to the sacred choir of beautiful, lustful noise constantly spilling from the bard's lips.

Leliana felt as though her naked body had been set ablaze with holy flame, so powerful was the pleasure so freely given to her by her elven lover. And when her lips closed carefully around her clit and her tongue flicked it it seemed as though her voice became part of the Chant of Light itself; the lust in her moans so pure they had become a prayer to the Maker in thanks to all the beauty bestowed upon the world by Him through Neria.

And then she was with the Maker. More than that, she was with Neria. Her body had gone, leaving only her soul. And her soul was connected to Neria, one and yet not one at the same time. And she allowed the pleasure that filled her soul to flow into Neria's.

Leliana screamed, wrapped in flesh once more, her whole body shuddering as her climax continued. The pleasure that had lifted her up mere moments ago now crashed through her, escaping her body in screams and moans, threatening to overpower her and send her into blissful unconsciousness. She held on, refusing to miss even one touch of her lover's lips still on her pussy. At length, the power of her orgasm waned and her body was truly her own once more. Tired, certainly, but satisfied.

Leliana turned her head when she felt Neria's body pressing against her next to her. She looked at her faintly smiling face and wanted to thank her. Looked into her dark, warm and wanted to tell her she loved her. But she didn't have the breath. All she could do was lie there and pant as her exhausted body struggled to regain some of its strength.

Neria reached up and brushed an errant strand of hair out Leliana's face.

"I love you too," she said.

-----

Morrigan looked at the white tent standing just outside the circle of fire with hate and envy in her eyes.

Two songs were always sung these nights. Alistair always left during the first. Morrigan always stayed for the second.

She wished she didn't. Things had been... easier before. Harsh and unpleasant in their own way, but certainly easier. She had been raised to see sex as just another tool to further her own power and ambitions. She'd always assumed it was the same for everyone, with the possible exception of romantics. But since romantics were invariably fools without power it didn't really matter what they thought, now did it?

But now the second song had begun to fill the night sky around the campfire. It was usually sung by Leliana, but sometimes by Neria. Ocassionally they sang a duet, though Morrigan had no idea how they could possibly manage that.

And she wanted it. Perhaps not exactly what they had, but something close to it anyway. But she knew she couldn't have anything like that because she simply wasn't built that way and she hated them for it. Them and their song.

But worse even than that was the realisation that what she hated most of all was the idea of their song ever fading.