undwarfy | Open post

Varric, as it happens, has given her absence very little thought- she's a scary motherfucker when she wants to be, glows in the dark, and has the ability to pour the untempered Fade into people's eyeballs and explode them with swords. So, you know, she can probably handle the goddamn Sharps Highwaymen.

What he is giving thought to is the new pelt he has, taken from some shitass bear Hawke killed the other day. She'd tossed the pelt at him (all cleaned and tanned or whatever and soft and wonderful) unceremoniously and told him that the damn beast had been such a pain in the ass that she felt the need to commemorate it. So naturally he was wrapped up in it like a blanket, shirt hanging over a chair, curled on his bed with a book and enjoying the feel of fur on bare skin. A book, a fur blanket, and a drink- perfect.

Then Justice barged in (whatever) and blurted out something appalling, and Varric actually choked on his fucking drink.

"Wh- what?!"

The fuck, Justice. The actual fuck.

One of the lucky (or perhaps unlucky) things about Justice is that she entirely overlooks certain things that are only socially inappropriate rather than morally inappropriate. She barely notes the fact that Varric is shirtless and draped in a bear pelt to accompany the pelt of hair already on his chest. She also barely notes the fact that she made him choke.

"Do you think I should have sex?"

Justice repeats herself patiently, closing the door behind her before sitting next to Varric on the bed. She doesn't consider the fact that their position added to his state of dress may be compromising considering the subject of conversation.

"Isabela said that I cannot understand what mortals go through because I have never felt grief, hunger, sex, or the like. There is little I can do about grief and hunger, but I could have sex with someone."

By now, Varric is well accustomed to Justice's pod-people sensibilities and her total lack of social awareness. As a result, he doesn't feel the need to ~cover himself~ or any such nonsense. He just adjusts the pelt a little to be comfier and scratches his head, confused.

"Oh, great, we're having one of those conversations." Fucking Rivaini, what the hell had she started now? "Um, I don't- well..."

He's at a complete fucking loss. With no clue of what to say, he looks at her. "What do you think? I mean, do you want to? People shouldn't do that shit out of obligation."

Justice stares at the ceiling as she considers Varric's question. Does she want to have sex? For all that she's thought about for the past few hours, she hasn't actually considered what she may want.

"What I want does not matter, does it?" Justice cares about what is just. If it is not just for a creature who has never experienced fundamentally mortal things to judge mortals, then she should try to experience those mortal things. "Justice is what matters."

But she knows Varric well enough to know that he won't accept that answer. He doesn't value justice above all other things like she does. "I confess, I am curious. I wish to know what it is that mortals fuss over so."

Varric sighs; this is exactly why he has to ask these questions.

"When it comes to sex, Firefly, it's all about what you want." He catches her eye- tilting her chin with his hand, if necessary. He needs her to see how important this is. "It's the number one thing. Don't do anything you don't absolutely wanna do. If you're not 100% into it, sex is sticky and kind of gross."

Justice furrows her brow, but she allows him to guide her face to hold his eyes. He's upset. Concerned. It's a strange thing, since Justice isn't sure what there is to worry about in particular.

"Do not make it sound too appealing," she says. Her voice is as serious as it ever is, but that may actually be a gentle tease. "It has always appeared rather 'sticky and gross' from what I have witnessed in the Fade, but there must be something that makes mortals obsess over it the way they do. Sometimes it feels like it is all they think about."

The number of times she's overheard someone imagining having sex with her, Varric. The number of times.

"It is all we think about sometimes." He answers her gentle tease with one of his own.

"The Fade..." his voice trails off. "What else do you see in there? Do you know how... how bad this can get?"

"Rape, you mean? Yes, I have seen it. Usually, I assist the victim in killing their attacker." Justice was always drawn to dreams or memories in need of justice, and that was usually the just result. Though sometimes there were dreams that did not ask for her, but she came across them anyway.

The thought makes her wrinkle her nose. "You would be shocked at the depths of depravity erotic dreams can reach."

She still doesn't quite understand the point here. If a person tries to force themselves on her, then she will kill them. It seems simple enough to her.

That answer didn't appease him in the slightest. It was obvious she saw this from a black-and-white perspective, the way she saw everything.

"Firefly, nothing in real life is that simple. You think you want one thing, the other person thinks something else, and before you know it you've done five things you never meant to do and don't remember wanting, but never actually said "no" to." His brow furrowed in concern. "You have no idea- it..."

He shifted his shoulders and fiddled with the pelt uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed. Sure, she was an ageless, immortal spirit with the ability to explode heads- but she was also extremely innocent of the chaotic mire of sex, and could so easily be taken advantage of.

"You might not feel like it, but you could get taken advantage of really easily."

She huffs, nose still wrinkled and mildly offended. "If anyone tried, I would kill them. It is that simple."

She still doesn't get it. She doesn't get how one partner can have all the best intentions, but be simply careless and leave a person feeling gross and violated. She doesn't get how no one needs to be intentionally thoughtless or cruel for sex to be a bad experience.

But she can tell that Varric is upset, so she lies down next to him, propping her head on her fist. A thought occurs to her, and she's surprised it didn't occur to her before. Without bothering with things like tact or thinking twice, she blurts out, "Would you want to have sex with me, Varric?"

"I- what? Maker's breath, Justice!" Varric sputters inelegantly, mind seizing up like a muscle spasm. His use of her actual title (name?) was fairly unusual.

"I, um... I don't think that'd be such a good idea." His eyes raked over her, lying on the bed, hair falling loosely around her, pale skin- NO. No. No, it would feel like taking advantage, or something. It wouldn't be right. He needs to remember she isn't actually an astonishingly beautiful woman, she's also extremely new to being a person. He shakes himself mentally.

The mixed messages just make her permanent frown deepen. "You are fantasizing about it."

She points it out as if that should be the end of it. (And as if that's a normal thing to say to someone.) "I do not understand. You want it, and I am asking to try it. If you are so concerned about what other mortals may do, is this not an ideal solution?"

She has a point. Reluctant though he may be to admit it, she has a really, really good point. Varric doesn't trust anyone in this forsaken city to be gentle with his Firefly- but the fact that he just thought of her as his might indicate that this shit is all about to get a lot more complicated.

"Listen, Firefly," he begins slowly. "There's something I need to know- do you, y'know, actually feel attraction? Have you ever wanted someone?"

"Physically, you mean?"

She has to think on that. "I am unsure if I would recognize it if I did. I do not have any cravings for sex like most mortals do. I do not have the instinct."

She folds her hands on the bed, resting her head in them as she stares at Varric, never blinking. "I do not know if I can ever feel the same way mortals can, but I do trust you, Varric. And I have great affection for you. If I am to experiment with anyone, I would be pleased to do it with you."

That made him smile and lay a hand over his heart semi-dramatically. "Aw, Firefly, you'll make me blush. I'm all a-flutter."

Sarcastic though his words were, he felt genuinely flattered. Varric knew damn well how few people she trusted. He took her hand and kissed the back of it gently, then looked at her, still holding it.

"Just promise me one thing. If there's anything we're doing that you don't like, let me know."

His lips feel soft on her hand. She turns her hand in his, daring to cup his cheek, drawing her thumb along the stubble along his jaw. "Have you ever known me to keep my thoughts to myself, Varric?" It's said dryly, though she respects the fact that he's simply trying to be good to her.

She's never touched a mortal so intimately. The closest she's gotten have been embraces, and even then, she can count the number of mortals she's hugged on one hand.

But it still feels like she should do something. "Is this the part where I am meant to kiss you?" Forgive her, Varric. She'll need to be walked through this a bit.

He smiles against her hand, relishing the feel of soft skin on his.

"Yeah," he answers softly, finally almost content that this might not be an actual dumpster fire. Once he gets over himself a little and actually looks at her, she really is- shockingly gorgeous. Something in him stirs in excitement at the thought of doing this. Shit, he hasn't been thinking about this all along, has he?

Whatever. No point getting weird about it now. He leans in and brushes his lips very lightly against hers.

Kissing is definitely strange, but not unpleasant. His lips are softer than she would have expected, and his stubble scrapes very gently against her skin. She doesn't have to breathe when she's not speaking, but she feels his breath on her face, and it reminds her that mortals are always breathing.

She's in her head as she takes in the experience with the same attentive curiosity as she takes in any new mortal experience. She doesn't try to take control, content to let Varric show her how this works and what he prefers to do before she tries to do anything. The only thing she does is drape an arm over his shoulder, shifting closer to him.

Varric leads the kiss slowly, letting her get used to each new step before he proceeds. First it's simply a kiss, then he has a hand to her cheek. They kiss chastely for a minute before he deepens it, parting his lips as his tongue gently laps at her, requesting entrance. From there he strokes his tongue against hers, gentle, showing her how it's done until he's confident she's got the general idea.

He's content to stay like this for a while, but after a few minutes he puts a hand at her waist and shifts her closer on the bed. From there he isn't sure what he should do next- should he lie down and take her with him, or lay her down, or lie down next to her and embrace side-by-side? He doesn't want to pressure her or do something she won't be comfortable with, so he contents himself with kissing her sitting up, drawing her a bit closer, encouraging her to put her other arm around his shoulders as well.

Justice is an attentive student. She pays attention to what Varric does, and she gradually begins to copy him. The tongue is new--it's also an interesting sensation, not harsh but insistent and demanding her attention.

Yes, she doubts she'd particularly enjoy this with someone she didn't know. She can taste his thoughts and wrongdoings and suffering on his lips, but she is already intimately familiar with all of them from the time she's spent with him. They're not distracting; just a part of who he is.

She can also sense his hesitation, so she lies down, tugging him with her as her hand begins to wander curiously down his chest, curling in the hair there.

Varric usually doesn't make much noise in bed, but in a way he's trying to teach her- to teach her, through response, what feels good and what sorts of things she should keep doing. So when her hand wanders down his chest, he makes a very soft, pleased sort of hum, just enough that she would hear it.

The position is a good one; it lets him wrap his arms around her and pull her closer, kissing her deeper. It lets him focus on the sensations, on noticing any reactions she might have. He deepens the kiss and catches her lip in his teeth, nipping lightly. Then he tilts her head up gently and presses a slow, languid kiss to her neck. It's followed with another, this time with gently scraping teeth, soothing the spot with his tongue after.

The noises are appreciated. They're helpful teaching tools, and she makes mental notes of what seems to make him make noise and what doesn't.

And then he kisses her neck. She doesn't expect it to feel as good as it does--her skin seems suddenly hyper sensitive, and the light touches of his teeth and tongue are more sensual than a proper bite. It surprises a little noise out of her, something soft and from deep in her throat as she scrapes her nails down his chest. Still, she remains firmly in her head, critically examining her own sensations and his reactions.

He makes a noise that's half-growl when she scratches him, and nips her skin a little harder, sucking a mark into that pale, unblemished skin.

"Stop thinking so much, Firefly," he murmurs into her neck, moving up to a pulse point in front of her ear. His hand is slowly creeping down her shoulder, easing one sleeve off her shoulder and pushing the neck of her shirt down.

Being undressed isn't a strange idea for her--honestly, it had taken a while for Anders to impress upon her the importance of clothes that aren't part of armor--but being undressed by someone else is a little odd. It's close. He's very close, and he's touching her more than even Anders has. It's an odd experience.

When Varric talks to her, she makes a small curious noise in the back of her throat. "How am I meant to experience it if I do not think about it?"

He's not wearing a shirt, so she can't pull him out of it. So instead, she just keeps scraping her nails on his skin, because he seems to like that. Every motion and sensation is examined carefully, still all too conscious of Isabela's accusations earlier.

"Sex isn't about thinking," Varric says against her skin, letting some humor creep into his tone. "Trust me, if it was, there'd be a lot less of it- and a lot less bullshit in the world."

He trusts that she's seen enough of humanity to know he's right. People rarely seem to put real thought into their sexual decisions.

"It's about feeling."

The sleeve of her dress was off her shoulder, the laces in the front undone. He gently cupped her breast in one hand, brushing his calloused thumb over her nipple while his teeth nipped at her ear.

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