Coq Au Vin

A/N - I have used the codes thematically. There is technically sex here, but overheard rather than graphic.

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"Well? What did you think of my special meal for you?"

The warden, Elissa, had heard the bard’s approach, and so only jumped because the words were half-whispered close to her ear. If Leliana’s approach to personal space was in the Orlesian fashion, then it was a wonder their empire had ever even needed to expand into land beyond a single city. She half-turned in acknowledgement, and returned her attention beyond the camp’s boundaries. As a relatively new member of the Wardens, she would soon feel the Darkspawn approach, as Alistair did. There was always the chance of Loghain’s bounty hunters attacking from the darkness.

"It was really nice. I’m sure it was special for all of us. Nan never prepared anything like that back home, it was always solid Ferelden fare, with the occasional Antivan dish. What did you say the dish was called, Coq Au Vin?"

As a persuasive liar, Elissa felt fairly certain Leliana would believe she had eaten and enjoyed the meal. In actuality, she had over indulged on cookies while attempting to bond more with Sten. Seeking to avoid offense to the bard, who’d been preparing food for half the night at the camp, she’d given a portion to Zevran, who appreciated the skilful and cultured preparation of the food, and half to Oghren, who appreciated the alcohol content.

"Yes, rooster in wine, you see? And so many other ingredients I had to find, or make do with. There were mushrooms, garlic, lardons, herbs... Oh, yes, the herbs were very important."

"Lardons? What are they?"

Incredibly, Leliana seemed to have moved even closer. It was as if the bard was awaiting some minor signal to wrap Elissa in her arms, and sweep her bodily into the grass. It was not something Elissa relished; finding a tactful way to let Leliana know she’d prefer if she could sleep unobserved had been one matter, but the bizarre compliment on Elissa’s hair had been far creepier. Having shaved her head prior to her brother leaving for Ostagar, in the hope that her father would see her as more than a little girl and let her travel and fight, she’d kept it shaven in memory and grief. Handy as she was with a razor, there was only one patch of hair on Elissa’s body. She didn’t want to think about how Leliana had seen it.

"You don’t know lardons? It is what Orlesians call bacon fat which is diced or cubed. They give texture and a little more flavour to the meal. The real flavour is in the herbs. I put some extra herbs in your portion, Elissa, I think they have helped you realise your true feelings, no?"

In the cool night air, Leliana’s hand felt disturbingly hot against Elissa’s combat hardened ass, even through her light leather armour. A gentle squeeze left her in no further doubt as to the bard’s meaning or intentions.

"You put poison in my food? I sometimes expect it from Zevran, but you?"

Leliana’s face fell, and fell further as Elissa pushed her hand away,

"No! No! Not poison, just... aphrodisiac. They wouldn’t make you do anything you would not choose with more confidence or less darkspawn worry. They give a little boost to your urges as a woman."

"By the Maker! Zevran! Oghren!"

"Wh... what?"

"I had eaten myself almost to sickness with Sten; I gave my food to them!"

Together, they looked back across the camp. Familiar silhouettes against the fire prepared for their sleep. Elissa quickly counted off her party, the merchants, and the military ambassadors... but of Dwarf and of Elf there was no sign.

"Just how powerful were those herbs? I thought if Zev and Oghren were the last two in Thedas, Zev would take up self abuse..."

"I am sure they have retired to their own tents. Surely Zevran had built up immunity to such herbs, and Oghren was falling over drunk. I... should apologise. I just wanted you to notice me as I, you."

"Sshhh. Listen."

Elissa strained to hear over the quiet noises that filled the camp from the crackling of the fire, to Sandal’s repetitive cry. Yes, there they were. Low voices in Oghren’s tent, something about making sure the oil was fully worked in and, yes, a hoarse crudely worded compliment on the aesthetic value of Zevran’s lips. Elissa had seen some shocking things in her time as a warden, but the mental images crowding her mind were amongst the most unexpectedly arousing. Another thought struck her,

"Thank the Maker... I nearly offered my portion to my Dog and Wynne," she grimaced, "wouldn’t make me do something I didn’t want, you say?"

"I am sure Zevran was over exaggerating his distaste for Oghren. He has such strong muscles, and that fine red hair and thick braided beard. Doesn’t everyone enjoy red hair?"

Leliana flicked hers bashfully. Elissa realised she was worried about being ordered to leave, and with good cause. She hated the idea of being drugged into wanting the bard, and worried just what other creepy lengths the woman would go to. Still, she wasn’t going to throw away a valuable ally against the Blight over a handful of herbs.

"I don’t think we should tell them about this. It could split the party and I can’t afford to lose any of you. They were both drinking; they’ll come to their own conclusions."

"Can’t afford...? Oh, thank you! I won’t try that again, on my honour as a bard!"

Elissa stiffened when Leliana hugged her, but at least her hands stayed above the waist. Flicking her gaze back towards the occupied tent, she noticed the fabric shaking, heard the creek of the cot. In her mind Oghren rode Zevran hard and roughly like a knight on a charger; in the tent things moved more tenderly.

"I’m still on watch. Go sleep."

"Yes...sorry."

Elissa turned back to the darkness, her mind afire with erotic images.

"Wait... do bards have honour?"

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A/N: Story written for AFF forum weekly prompt 42 - Cubed.

Elissa Cousland can be seen here:

http://i27.photobucket.com/albums/c166/JoanDoePictures/SkinCousland.jpg

Lets just say her mother passed a very tough persuasion challenge with her father over the parentage...