Antivan Seduction

Title: Antivan Seduction

Author: Jade-Max

Genre: Video Game Fan-fic

Characters: Zevran / Dalish Female Warden

Author's Note: So, Zevran's massage is about the most creative I have ever been propositioned - though a hardened Leliana's is by far the funniest (depending on the dialog options you choose) and Alistair's the sweetest. Yet I can't help but wonder exactly how things slid from tension release to... tension release when Zevran invited the Warden into his tent.

I've used the Dalish female Warden for the purpose of this fic - default name: Lyna

I wrote this ages ago and never posted it - go figure.

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Antivan Seduction

Slipping into Zevran's tent, she couldn't help but ask herself if she was crazy. She liked Zevran, genuinely so, and even acknowledged a simmering attraction; a... crush. But accepting a massage - and possibly more if the promise in his gaze was anything to go by - seemed... incautious.

Thrilling.

A touch forbidden.

Having flirted with danger since the poisoning that had led to her joining the Grey Wardens, it was something of a turn on. Of course, she hadn't had the courage to ask him if he intended to seduce her... and honestly, if he did, she didn't really want to know in advance.

Tonight, she decided as she knelt on the furs that lined the floor of his tent to keep away the cold, she just wanted to let him lead her for once. Just once. After having everyone lean on her it would be nice to give it up for a while.

Easing into a sitting position, she crossed her legs, uncertain exactly what she should be doing. The elves in her clan didn't practice the art of massage and she'd never seen one given. She'd heard rumors of course since their travels to various parts of Ferelden, but didn't know what to expect. Zevran followed her into the tent, turning gracefully on the ball of one foot to quickly snap the fly closed and secure it against the night. She took that to mean he wanted no interruptions.

Good; neither did she.

As he turned to look at her, she spread her hands, looking about the tent and unconsciously comparing it to her own even as she spoke. It was as simple as hers, but meticulously so; she was something of a messy camper. "So... what's next?"

"Have you never had a massage, my dear Warden?"

Already shaking her head, she felt a little sheepish. "I'd never left my clan before Duncan came to recruit me; I've only heard rumors..."

"Good ones, I hope?" While he spoke, Zevran tugged on the fingertips of his gloves and pulled them off in a smooth practiced motion. He set them aside almost reverently - and she had no trouble identifying them as the gloves she'd given him as a gift. The look he shot her told her he was aware of her thought process. "Now you look nervous as well as tense. Come come; is it such a hardship to be alone with me?"

She couldn't help it; she laughed. "Hardship? Only if I have to fend off your barbed tongue."

"You wound me, I think." But his eyes flared in approval at her sassy comment, as he continued to remove his boots - also a present from her - next. "My tongue has been called many things, but never barbed. Would you like to see, or perhaps feel, for yourself?"

"Perhaps," her gaze slid away from his, not nearly as confident as she portrayed. For all her false bravado, she'd never been so... alone with a man before. "So... what do I do next for this massage of yours?"

He grinned with a wink. "Get undressed."

There was a pregnant pause, a heartbeat of silence so profound that followed his pronouncement, she was sure she'd heard him wrong.

"Pardon?"

"I cannot rub your back through your leathers. For all their prowess, my fingers are not nearly so deft."

That Zevran had already pulled the ties on his own leathers and was shrugging out of them to reveal his finely honed chest - naked chest - made her blush and she ducked her head to the side, focusing on her own boots. Her gloved fingers fumbled unaccountably with the laces until Zevran's fingers suddenly covered hers, drawing her gaze back up to his.

"There is no reason to be nervous; for all my flirtations I will do nothing you do not wish."

“It’s not a matter of trust, Zevran.”

“No? For all you know this is my nefarious plan to stick a knife between your ribs to redeem myself.”

“Is it?”

His hand turned hers over, his fingers nimbly tugging on the laces at the cuff before peeling them off. The glove was cast somewhere behind him into the shadows, his hands coming back to hers and beginning to kneed. She tensed, looking down in surprise as his thumb and forefinger began to ease the tension in the palm of her hand she hadn’t been aware of. His voice drew her back to the matter at hand.

“Is what it?”

“Do you intend to slide a knife between my ribs?”

He laughed, the sound intimate in the close confines of the tent. “My dear Warden, were my intention to impale you, I would not be so crass as to aim between your ribs.”

There was an innuendo in there she didn’t quite catch as the distraction of his touch kept her attention. His fingers continued to rub evenly, almost mesmerizing against her skin, working their way beyond her hand and over her wrist. Tension melted away, her muscles relenting to his skillful touch - and she had no doubt he’d done this many times before; how else would he have known where to put just the right amount of pressure?

Not that he'd ever claimed to have anything but experience considering his upbringing.

As if in a dream, she saw those same fingers sliding up and under the edges of her arm bands, deftly finding the ties and divesting her of the hindrance before the armor went the same way as her gloves. His touch was something wicked, like some kind of evil spell of enrapture and mesmerize; a charm spell that relied on tactile sensation, and not semantics, to entrance.

With her muscles relaxing under his touch, her body seemed to lean into it, subtly shifting to drive his fingers in just the right direction to catch the worst of the knots. He removed the shoulder plate, his fingers digging into a particularly sensitive muscle and she bit back a moan, her eyes falling partially shut at the blessed feel of such bliss.

No wonder her clan didn’t practice this kind of thing! Maker! She’d never have gotten anything done with this on her mind.

His fingers eased the tension from her shoulder - and then left. She made a soft gasp of protest that quickly turned into a sound of approval as he moved to the other arm and proceeded to follow the same, torturous path towards from finger tip to shoulder.

“Am I to take your silence as willing compliance?”

Startled from her thoughts, she looked up and was caught in his gaze. It burned brightly in the dimness of the tent, his golden hair like a halo about his head. An angel or a devil? She didn’t know and didn’t care so long as he kept making her muscles turn to liquid. Somewhere in the midst of all those soothing, rhythmic motions, Zevran’s fingers had begun to glide over her skin, massaging oil into the pores with deliberate intent. His hands shifted so that one was on each shoulder, kneading firmly.

“Wha-“ she cleared her throat, trying to rid it of the husky sound her voice had suddenly developed and not quite succeeding. “For what? What was the question?”

He laughed softly. "Not so important I think. Are you enjoying the feel of my hands on your body?”

She nodded.

“Good. Then perhaps we can continue?"

"Oh yes."

His hands left her skin and she blinked, a sudden pull at the side closures of her leathers drawing her gaze down. Despite the oil coating his fingers, Zevran already had a knot she used to secure them closed undone and the laces pulling free. She stretched out her arms, letting him pull the leather breastplate over her head and place it aside.

Only her small clothes remained, but Zevran made no move towards them, his focus complete as he urged her to the bed of furs. "Lie down."

A blush colored her cheeks as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Like this?"

His laugh was patiently amused. "Of course; I cannot rub your back otherwise."

Eyeing what was surely his bed warily, she looked back his way in a rare moment of nerves.

Zevran, sensing her unease, smiled. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable sitting for now, yes? Very well; turn," he made a circular motion with his finger, indicating she was to give him her back.

Complying, she faced his bed, doing her best to keep her eyes averted. His hands returned to her shoulders, making her hiss and stiffen initially as he traced firm lines around her shoulder blades before beginning to kneed once more. Unaware he'd shifted closer, she started a little when his knees pressed into the small of her back, followed by the clearly defined muscles of his thighs and the blatant evidence of his enjoyment.

"Zev-"

"Shh," his soothing tone came from above and to her left, his breath feathering across her ear and making her shiver. "I simply require leverage; there is no obligation for more than your pleasure and enjoyment, my dear Warden."

"Lyna," she practically gasped her name as one thumb dug in almost painfully to a knot. "My name's Lyna, Zev."

"Lyna," he agreed, soothing the muscles with deliberately small circles. "If you do not mind me saying so, you are very fair for one who has spent much time out of doors."

"I stayed coooov- oh, right there... yes... ther- oh!"

"There?"

She whimpered as his thumb shifted to a mess of knots, pressing back into his hands and thighs even as the pain of the pressure bled off and blessed release remained where she hadn't realized it was needed. And he hadn't moved beyond her shoulders yet! Those firmly massaging hands continued their even ministrations as they dipped lower, releasing tension and pressure with every small circle.

"Zev... oh Maker! Zevran!"

His lips touched her ear. "There are few things in this life more beautiful than the sound of a woman enjoying herself while moaning my name."

"Ingrate."

She felt more than heard his laughter through the cradle of her shoulder blades. "Are you complaining even as you benefit?"

"Never; I don't care how you learned this."

Something firm and wet touched the sensitized tip of her ear followed by the barest pressure of his teeth, and she shuddered even as she folded forward, bracing herself on arms that didn't want to fully take her weight. His hands never stopped their rhythmic motion, but her collapse tore her ear from his mouth and dislodged his body from her back. Gasping softly, she felt blessedly relaxed and yet unbearable tension all at once.

"Lie down, mi amore," his lips brushed the base of her neck as his hands slid from her shoulders and into the ridged plain of her back. "You will be more comfortable."

Stretching out on her stomach, she shifted uncomfortably as the clasp of her leather skirt dug into her stomach. As he settled beside her, she rolled to her back and reached for the fasteners. His gaze held a conscious and blatant approval that would normally have made her blush - except she could only focus on getting him back to what he'd been doing.

At getting the tension inside her to snap.

At achieving the kind of bliss his hands seemed magically inclined to give.

Her fingers were clumsy on the clasps, and Zevran's were there to assist her, hold her steady. Her skirt followed the rest of her armor, leaving her in just the knee and shin guards above her soft soled shoes. Those didn't interfere, and so, when she rolled back to her stomach, pillowing her head on folded hands, she swore she heard him laugh softly to himself.

"Impatient, my dear?"

"I don't know how I'll ever le-ave your tent... mmm. Did you really learn all of this in a whore house?"

This time, she heard him chuckle. "Of course. Where else does one learn such decadent secrets?"

"The Crows perhaps? You did say they require their - ah! oh.. there... harder.. mmmm..." her back arched into his hands and he firmly pressed her back to the furs.

"Do not move if possible; I promise to take good care of you."

"Mmm hmm... and so you are."

"With skin such as yours, it is easy."

She didn't even notice as he changed the track of their conversation. "What about my skin?"

"You are exquisite." Unable to help himself, he leaned down to press a kiss to her shoulder blade - an area he hadn't covered in oil. "We must find you better leathers; something to do you justice, I think."

"Something easier to remo-ah!"

"I was thinking something enchanted; as enchanting as you."

A groan crossed her lips - but if it was from the feel of his fingers kneading the small of her back as her legs moved restlessly, or from the horrible pick up line she didn't rightly know. "Those bad lines don't actually work, do they?"

The grin was in his voice. "You are putty in my hands; what need have I to use bad lines but to make you laugh?"

"Not that... uh."

She lost her train of thought again as his fingers ran the line of her back, stopping only briefly with a tightening and releasing sensation across her chest before continuing - unimpeded - downwards.

Burying her face in her arm, she attempted to stay still as smooth, sweeping strokes of Zevran's hands changed the tempo of the kneading motion from before. His touch was still firm, but with the heat of the oil did something she wasn't expecting, penetrating her pores in a way she'd never experienced, making her quiver under his touch. It was a struggle not to move, and she unconsciously clenched her buttocks as her toes due into the liner of her shoes.

She tensed as his fingers slid under the waist band. It took barely a heartbeat before his fingers were digging into those tense muscles, encouraging her to relax, and she moaned incoherently, knowing she should protest such an intimate handling of her person. At the moment, she felt too good to even consider it.

His hands slid free, gently smoothing down the fabric over her posterior before sliding down onto her thighs. The near side, her left, got the first attention, her toes uncurling in her boots as his magical digits went to work once more.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was embarrassed to note, she was practically naked in the hands of a known womanizer - and didn't care. In fact, another part of her reveled in it. Womanizer or not, there was no doubt Zevran knew what he was doing - and if those skills had be garnered at another woman's expense well... all the better for her.

"You are very quiet, mi bella.

"Hmm?"

"Are you sleeping?"

"Mmm, no."

"So relaxed I may do as I please with you without complaint?"

"Probably - oh Maker... Zev - do that again."

He laughed softly. "Of what are you thinking?"

"Things I shouldn't," she murmured, now too relaxed to guard her tongue.

"Ah, but there are no boundaries tonight. Just you and I and this tent until morning." His fingers continued to work as he spoke, shifting ever lower towards the guards on her knees and unbuckling the fasteners and ties as they got in the way. "So, I ask you again; of what are you thinking?"

"I'm wondering how many bad mass-ah!-ges you gave before you... uh!"

"Fewer than you would think. We elves, as you know, are a naturally dexterous race. I'm afraid very few of my practice subjects entertained the torment you seem to believe."

"You couldn't have been very yo-oh!-ng when you learned."

Sliding his hand down and around, he massaged her thigh boldly, using his fingers down the inside and outside, coming perilously close to the apex, his thumbs eased the remaining tension out of the muscle. "Everyone in a whore house is expected to ear their keep; even the youngsters. I was found to have a certain proficiency for massage, quite by accident I assure you."

The answer to her question was noted, but she found she was unable to respond, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from begging him to touch her further. To take some liberties.

Focused, and surprisingly professional, Zevran took no liberties beyond the barest brush of his finger tips as he worked the muscle before sliding his fingers down the supple length of her leg to her knee. Her knee guard was removed and tossed aside before the buckles and ties holding her shin guard were also undone and the armor piece discarded.

Her knee and calf muscle then received the same treatment of her thigh, the finger tips of one hand working under the cuff of her shoe even as the other undid the laces and worked the footwear off. Surprisingly, he stopped at her ankle before returning to her legs, moving to the right one to give it similar treatment.

Ambidextrous, Zevran used it to his advantage to keep the massage flowing even as he divested her of the last of her clothing, leaving her in a bare scrap of fabric about her hips. Drowsy from the massage and near drunk on the relaxing, soothing motion of his hands, she'd long since closed her eyes to flirt with the edge of oblivion.

It wasn't until he had finished with her lower legs and moved onto her feet that her eyes flew wide and she let out a surprised hiss and moan, biting her lip on a low groan that seemed torn from her stomach.

"Oh Maker... Zev!"

"Ah, the true source of your tension, my dear Warden." His tone was teasing. "Perhaps I should have started on your feet?"

"Oooh..." she writhed on the blanket, fisting her hands on the furs to stop herself as he pressed his thumbs into the tense flesh. Even now she could feel the way the muscles and tendons didn't want to give to his ministrations and the result was an almost painful pleasure. Without thinking beyond the fact that she wanted to see him work on her, she rolled, giving him better access to her foot and allowing her to bend her knees.

His gaze went to hers, flaring with approval and appreciation.

Prone, she watched him through heavily lidded eyes, and Zevran lifted her foot enough to cock her knee back towards her stomach. Pliant under his touch, she didn't utter a word of protest and had to bite her lip as his thumbs hit a particularly tight tendon. He eased forward with her leg, into the V of her thighs and, without losing the rhythm of his massage, bent his head to kiss the raised inside of her knee.

The conflicting sensations, yet eerily similar - as if they were opposites of the same coin - made her catch her breath. A different kind of tension took the place of the physical before, permeating her limbs and making her restless as Zevran continued his almost innocent assault of her person.

But there was nothing innocent in the look he sent her as his lips settled on a particularly sensitive point on the inside of her thigh.

"What are you... oh!"

Her eyes fell shut, her head lolling to the side as he began to suck, his lips continuing to torture her knee, his fingers seeking and finding the points of tension with unerring precision through her foot. The assault continued for an indeterminate number of minutes as she struggled to identify and quantify the sensations - before completely giving herself up to them.

Her back arched off the furs in surprise as much as pleasure as Zevran's hands slid up her thighs, across stomach muscles that quivered and jumped, and then up to trace the under curve of her breasts. Her eyes fluttered open as his hand drifted away, the pressure of his wrists on the side of her breast making it clear he hadn't left; but he'd stopped touching her.

Taking in his posture - braced on his arms, holding himself away from her but over, caging her but not confining - her brows drew together in confusion.

"Zevran?"

"If you had remained on your front, mi amore, I might have had the will to finish."

"Finish what?"

"Your massage. Forgive me; you are temptation incarnate - and I... I am a weak man." His head came down, his lips covering her in a searing, passionate kiss; a kiss she had no defenses against after his thorough ministrations.

His weight settled upon her and she gasped into his mouth at the feel of him, Zevran taking advantage of her surprise to tempt her into a more decadent and indecent kiss. Tension spiraled into passion and need, and she was suddenly moving as he rolled, drawing her atop him.

It broke the kiss, drawing her above him as she straddled his hips, the press of his erection cradled almost exactly where he longed to be between her thighs. Flesh met flesh, and in the back of her mind she was aware he was naked as he hadn't been before, their bodies separated only by the cloth of her unmentionables. A tick in his cheek belied just how hard he was fighting for control - and it was more than a little thrilling. Topless and uncaring that she sat on the lap of the naked elf, she stared at him for a long moment.

His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against the already erect and engorged nipples with a fascinated reverence.

"Maker!"

"No," he told her cheekily, having sat up to slowly lap the nipple with his tongue. "Just I."

Her hands delved into his hair, touching him, and she felt the shudder of approval that went through him. Emboldened by that, they slid down his neck and over his shoulders, clutching him tightly as his lips settled fully around the engorged tip. Moaning his name, she was lost to the flames that had begun to sear her insides like an inferno, capitulating to the pressures.

Zevran, as if sensing her complete surrender, rolled her back to the blanket. She helped him as his hands swept down her body, tilting her hips to assist in the removal of her small clothes. His lips returned to hers as he lay beside her, the hands that had been massaging her so reverently before, now cradling her close. One wrapped about her back, the finger tips gently caressing the swell of her breast; the other sitting on the mound at the apex of her thighs. Thighs that had clenched at his first touch, but were, even now, softening - remembering - the pleasure those fingers had brought.

He wouldn't hurt her.

His lips teased her even as he deepened the kiss, her hands on his chest, sliding downwards to explore the finely muscles contours. Distracted, she was taken by surprise when he touched her for the first time, gasping into his mouth, her body arching into his touch. As he slipped one finger, and then two, into the wet heat of her center, their kiss broke on a sob that was his name as her back bowed.

"You are so tight, cara," he informed her softly, his words husky even as his lips traced the line of her jaw. "You have not done this before."

Unable to speak for the sensations his slowly thrusting fingers were creating, she shook her head even though it wasn't exactly a question.

"Then we shall make it memorable and I will ruin you for all other men, yes?"

What she couldn't tell him was that he probably already had. How could anyone top this?

Completely at the mercy of sensation, she cried out as he separated his fingers, stretching her, his lips finding the pulse that beat at the junction of her neck and shoulder, and fastening on it to suck once. The dual assault made her whimper, the leg not closest to him sliding restlessly along the furs as she sought something she couldn't name.

Zevran's fingers suddenly curled within her, her hips coming up off the furs with a cry he quickly muffled with his lips, his thumb playing with the very heart of her passions even as he did. There was nothing left for her to do but cave to the pressures building within her body and when she finally tensed in his arms, exploding across the threshold of pleasure, Zevran acted.

Her hips were rolled towards him, his fingers pulled free as he quickly joined his body to hers, rolling to use gravity to his advantage as he drew her down fully and completely with a softly strangled cry.

Cascading over the peak, her vision wavering, she felt only a momentary twinge at the breaking of her maidenhead - a sensation quickly lost and forgotten as the waves pleasure made her shudder against him. Plastered against his chest panting, she was slow to raise her head.

"How do you feel, mi amore?"

"Like I'm flying."

He chuckled softly, lifting his hand to caress her cheek. "Will you take me with you the next time?"

"Next - oh!" She bit her lip. The sensation of having him within her was strange and new, but not unpleasant, and already she could feel her body calling on her to move. Mimicking his movements, she eased forward, concentrating on the movement only to gasp as he counterpointed, withdrawing from her body with an easy, painless glide, only to return in a smooth stroke.

"Zev..." her hands splayed on his chest. "What do I do?"

"There are no rules, no goal here but mutual pleasure. We do," he sat up and her legs came around him even as he slid free of her body a fraction, "whatever it is that feels right. Nothing more."

His lips fastened on her neck for a moment even as his hips began to move again. Concentrating on that movement, she attempted to match it - and was thwarted. A soft laugh feathered across her collar bone. "You are trying too hard, cara. Relax; listen to your body. It will tell you what to do."

"I don't know how-"

"Then I will lead and when you are once again mindless with pleasure, perhaps you will hear it."

Easing her down, he laid her gently against the furs, never disconnecting their bodies. With slow, gentle movements, Zevran proceeded to teach her about her body and responses, only the quake in his frame belying just how much he wished to proceed more quickly; yet he didn't - for her.

As he rose above her, his body sliding easily within hers, she held him to her, letting her body rise and fall to his, desperately trying not to think - and succeeding as the pressures within her began to build once more. Zevran turned her at one point, raising her leg before withdrawing completely. She made a sound of protest even as he rolled her back to her belly, this time parting her thighs with his knee and rejoining his body to hers with barely a missed beat.

He urged her to her knees, to settle back into his lap, and she did, gasping with each thrust, the pressures within her growing to be too much. His hands covered her breasts, his lips on her neck as it arched, her body convulsing for the second time that night, capturing his thrusting invasion in a vise-like grip so firm he groaned, burying his head between her shoulder blades as one final spasm of her body sent his beyond the point of no return.

Astride his lap and replete with her head back against his, she was powerless to stop his deep, penetrating invasion if she'd wanted to. Coming down from that height of pleasure, she felt him go rigid before an unusual warmth spread through her body, her name on his lips this time as he catapulted beyond thought.

His arms were like bands of steel about her chest, holding her in place as he quaked beneath her, his breath a ragged wind across her back. Slowly, ever so slowly, his trembling was pulled back under control and the grip about her chest eased. His lips brushed her back before she was slid slowly forward and off his lap. A hiss passed her teeth as her body was forced to expel his.

Zevran eased them both down to the furs, reaching over to grab one that was set aside for covers, and pulled it over them. A smile crossed her lips as she was pulled back into his arms and she curled into his chest. His lips brushed her shoulder.

"Normally I would offer to finish your massage, but I find myself unable - perhaps more to the point, unwilling to move."

"You mean... this wasn't a part of your massage offer?"

"No; it was but a hope of mine. How do you feel?"

A yawn broke into whatever she was going to say and, hearing it, he laughed softly, burying his face in her hair. "I have pleased you too well, it would seem. Will you... sleep here this night? I would not object to your company."

"I hope not after that," closing her eyes, she gave in to the pressing urge her body was demanding. "Zevran?"

"Yes, mi bella?"

"You can finish me tomorrow night."

He chuckled at the innuendo, tightening his grip on her. "Only tomorrow?"

"Well," she yawned again, a grin crossing her lips. "We need to practice on your technique."

"Says she who knew nothing of it until this evening. To which part did you object?"

"Sheathing your... your sword in my scabbard isn't exactly a sure method of ensuring my demise. An enjoyable one - now that I know of it, there is no way I'd rather go - but hardly conventional "

There was a long moment where she wasn't sure he would appreciate the reference before she was rolled to her back, Zevran pinning her to the ground. His look was impassive, but she could see the simmering approval for her tease behind his eyes. "I did promise not to be so crass as to impale you between the ribs."

A cheeky grin crossed her lips. "You can impale me anytime."

"Excellent," he dropped a quick kiss on her before using his knee to spread her thighs and her eyes widened. "Now, I do believe you critiqued my technique."

"But-"

"You did say anytime, did you not?"

Her body arched into his as one of his hands found her more swollen than before, but just as ready - and his body joined hers once more. This time he went slowly, letting her feel every inch, every nuance of the act. She had nothing to add beyond the language of complete acceptance her body proclaimed as she fully welcomed him into her most intimate of embraces.

Sleep, for all it had been clamoring at her senses, did not join them in the tent that night.

fin