undwarfy | Open post

His finger was, in fact, tracing a lyrium line. One of the few he could see, just far enough up her shoulder (close to her neck, her chest, her-) that he could see the faint white and his own fingertip tracing it.

"Yeah," he said, a bit distantly. "I can sort of..." His voice fell away again in concentration. There was something- the harder he tried to chase it, the more it slipped away. But he finally figured out what it was he was feeling. "I swear I can almost hear it. Feels weird, makes my teeth itch."

It was a very, very hard sensation to explain to anyone who wasn't resistant to the stuff. Surfacers, all they knew was this insane rush and apparently ridiculous series of sensations, but to dwarves, it was something subtle and strange, something that pulled at the bones and pulsed like heartbeats.

Made his teeth itch. And here she was practically--

Fasta vass, she was being crude.

She kept herself from sighing with resignation, or even whining, so she could say, "I'm sorry - I didn't even think that the markings would bother you. I've been selfish. I'll move."

If they sat side by side, they could still share some warmth. Not quite as much, but less of her lyrium would be touching him. There would be less to disturb him.

So damned selfish to not even think.

"No!" He winced. Too eager by half. "I mean- no need, it's fine. It's hard to explain, but it... it's weird, but it doesn't bother me. I think it's a dwarf thing."

True to form, that finger kept following its lyrium line, curving over the shoulder, swooping down to her collarbone.

"Sorry, getting kind of.. distracted." He blinked and pulled his hand back, aware of how close he came to just wrapping his arms around her. "Say the word, and I'll stop."

In the span of those few moments, a few things happened. First, she relaxed back against him again. Then, the speed and the... the tone of that 'no' put a little flutter of hope in her that was as alien as the lack of pain in her skin. He kept tracing her markings, and that felt heavenly.

And that made it so easy for her to lean her head back against his shoulder, putting a degree of trust in him that she'd not given anyone in years. Especially when she murmured, "Please don't stop."

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt actually good, and it didn't escape her that it took being stuck in a cave, huddling for warmth, for it to happen. But she couldn't - and wouldn't - complain.

"You aren't the only one getting distracted."

Shit. He closed his eyes for a second, unable to entirely believe what was happening. The gorgeous naked woman in his arms, resting against him, asking him to touch her- it was a genuine struggle to remind himself, as his hand started moving again, that this was for pain relief. It was to help a friend.

Then she kept talking. Varric ducked his head a little, not quite believing, but bold enough to murmur a little closer to her ear. "Is that so?"

His finger traced that lyrium line- it swooped down lower now, if he remembered correctly. Of course he did, he got a long enough eyeful. His movements slowed so that his finger traced an incredibly slow path- slow, cautious, careful. Perhaps even teasing, as the lyrium line swooped underneath her breast and started in a tighter curve- one that, if he kept this up, would end in a tight circle around her tight little nipple.

He wasn't there yet. For now, he lingered at the bottom curve of the marking, underneath her breast, deliberately angling his hand so there was no risk of accidental... touching.

"Alright, Fen?"

While she hadn't quite expected that right off, she couldn't say she was surprised, either. Not really. After all, moments ago, she'd been seriously contemplating turning around and rubbing herself on him. She had goosebumps again, but these were from a much different source. These were from the very same reason that her breathing had gone just that bit deeper.

"It's fine, Varric," she assured, voice soft. "Consider yourself as having blanket permission."

The warmth she felt - she wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not, but she wasn't going to make him stop. It felt too good. Even if--

She should tell him. She knew she should. After all, he was being kind and thoughtful, asking permission before touching, and here she was, just... touching. Taking advantage.

"I'm enjoying your chest hair. It feels nice on my back. And your arms are very... Mm. Very appealing," she said, knowing it wasn't the same as asking, but at least it was an admission.

He muffled a laugh into her silvery-white hair; Maker's breath, she was adorable. Dissecting all the different things about him she was enjoying? Well, aside from his surprise at hearing her enjoying him at all (elves tended to go for humans or other elves, in his experience), and the initial blush of flattery- it was just goddamn cute.

"Appealing, huh?" He asked conversationally, as if his hand wasn't tracing a slow circle around her breast- tighter, closer. "I should pick things up and put them down more often. Hell, I could even flex."

It probably didn't need to be said that he was enjoying her. He hadn't exactly been subtle about it before. Which was why he didn't say anything else as he reached the tightest curl of the lyrium line- and found himself slowly tracing the very edge of her nipple. A light touch, teasing, barely-there.

"Promise?" The word barely escaped before she took a breath that was closer to a gasp and her hand found his knee to wrap around. "Oh, Maker--"

Just that small touch, that bit of a caress and she found herself pressing her knees together. That felt...

They'd hurt for so long. If her breasts, her nipples, had ever felt nice, she didn't know, but suddenly, with most of the pain gone, it was like a shock all through her, straight to her groin. She could actually feel herself starting to get wet (wetter, she admitted to herself) from that one little touch.

"Oh, this is going to turn into some wonderful trouble, isn't it," she half-spoke, half-moaned.

"I can only hope."

Trouble? Fuck him, if she kept that up, he was going to lose his damn mind. This one little touch and she was already so responsive. It made him move his other hand as well- to bring that up and follow the same circle, caressing both breasts at once. The slight shift in position had her leaning back against his chest, resting her slight weight on him.

Which made it even easier to shift his hands just so, for the lightest, most delicate drag of nails.

Her back arched, breasts pushed up and into his hands, into his touch, as she took hold of his legs. Oh Maker. She knew already how to take pleasure, how to enjoy her body, but this was so extremely different. It was all she could do to hold on, even when his coat, the barrier between them and the world, started to slip down. Her skin felt hot. A bit of cool air just heightened the contrast - and made her nipples all the harder.

And that was when Fenris became sure that she and Varric were going to have sex in this cave, with this wild storm outside, and she would thrill at every moment.

"Maddening dwarf," she moaned, her own nails giving his thighs the lightest scrape. Mh, the hair on his legs - her hips shifted a little when she felt it. Deodamnatus, this was amazing.

"So I'm told," he murmured into her hair before ducking his head down. He pressed a soft, stubbly kiss to the side of her neck, emboldened by her moaning, cock twitching every time she writhed against him.

He kissed her again, with the softest barely-there scrape of teeth, and let his fingers wander. His calloused fingertips brushed feather-light over her hard, pebbled nipples- and oh, he made sure to trace them in circles first, to hit those lyrium dots he had spied earlier. He avoided the sensitive nubs for now, just letting his nails drag over tightening flesh, making sure the last of that particular pain was gone.

"F-fasta vass--"

One hand let go, lifted, found the tie to Varric's hair and quickly fussed it undone so she could slide her fingers into his hair. It was a hell of a pose for her, flexing her back to show off the small mounds of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach, the way her back could curve. But that was far from her mind.

What Fenris did do was tighten her fingers in his hair enough to pull him from her neck for the express purpose of pressing her mouth to his. She couldn't remember the last time she'd voluntarily kissed someone, but she wanted it with him so badly. Hungry little sounds escaped her throat as her lips moved against his, the kiss a demanding thing so as to leave no doubt just how much this was welcomed.

He met her with a hungry moan, half from the yank at his hair and half from how badly he wanted to kiss her. Fenris was demanding in how she kissed him, stroking her tongue insistently against his and demanding as passionate a response from him. He answered with a deep, intense kiss, tongue exploring her mouth, moving against hers, teeth nipping at her lip gently.

All the while, his hands kept teasing her, with light, barely-there touches and gentle drags of nails around the outside of her nipples, meant to tighten them, to make them harden, to tease until she couldn't stand it.

When she had to breathe - and she had to, flecks of golden sparkle starting to encroach at the edges of her vision - she pulled back and exhaled a threat that wasn't really a threat at all: "I'm going to cut your smalls off if you don't get them out of the way."

No, that was more of a promise.

But the kiss was only broken for long enough for her to say that. Unfairly, maybe, as it meant that she wasn't giving him much of a chance to do what she asked. Too many conflicting impulses. She wanted him bare, but she wanted the kiss to go on, wanted his hands on her as evidenced by the soft and wanting moans she gave him. There was just so much to want.

Varric was obviously taking her threat very seriously, as evidenced by the way he didn't move even a little bit, but gave a little in his teasing and began to rub her nipples gently.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" He couldn't keep the smugness off his face, as he gave one of them a very gentle pinch.

The sound she made very nearly rang through the small cave, her hand tightening in his hair, her body becoming bowstring tight. It was next thing to a cry of orgasm, and the way she shivered made it plain just how good that felt to her.

She panted afterward - and then she was moving, turning in his arms, coming up to kneel with the coat falling in a half-circle behind her. And, after she raked her nails down his chest, pushing him onto his back, her hands found the hip of his smalls - and she tore through, her eyes seeking, and finding, his.

"That," Fenris purred. "I was saying that I would do that."

He made a sound very like a growl and sat up, pulling her into his lap and holding her in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Fenris," he crooned, mouthing at her collarbone. "Were you not having fun? Shame on me for not noticing. Maybe I shouldn't touch you there anymore."

The growl. The hold. Fenris moaned, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers sliding into his hair. "If you stop, I'll hate you forever."

Already in his lap, she squirmed until her legs were very satisfyingly wrapped around his waist and she was holding on to him with every single limb. Oh Maker, this was...

A tiny thread of doubt wove in, though. What if he really did stop touching her? What if he never touched her again? That bit of worry gentled her and made her nuzzle against him, made her hands slide down his back as she beseeched, "Please don't stop, Varric."

Something in her tone gave him pause; he looked at her again through the haze of lust and saw something worried and jarringly pliant. Sure, he liked being in control (mostly), but this felt different. It felt like a side of Fenris he'd never seen before.

It made him put a hand under her chin and tilt her face up to look at him. With a gentle, leading finger, he brought her up to his level for a sweet kiss.

"Just teasing, Fen. Don't worry."

With the kiss and the words, the tightness that had taken her shoulders eased and she leaned into him. It felt...

It felt like when she'd put on his coat. Like warmth settling around her, soothing something she'd not even known had built. The kiss she gave in response was soft - softer than any she'd given yet, and deeper in a way that had nothing to do with tongues and need. He understood. How, she had yet to understand, but that was all right. He understood.

"I do want more," she whispered against his mouth once she felt able. "I do want you inside me before we leave this cave."

And after a pause, Fenris added, "And afterward."

Varric had been to many places and met many people over the course of his life. Kirkwall was the most important port city in the Free Marches, and among the people he'd met in his life, ex-slaves and the downtrodden had numbered among them. Whether escaping from slavery or a Circle, there was something servile and fearful in the heart of anyone who had ever been so brutally caged. Seeing it in Fenris- well, it was a little bit of a surprise, but only in the moment. It made sense, and the last thing he wanted was to see any part of her spark and fire go out.

So he kissed her back, feeling something shift between them, wrapping his arms around her in a way that was both a strong hold and a gentle embrace. Her words grew an outright moan from him, and he leaned his forehead against hers to find the words to answer.

"You want me? You'll get me. Just- be patient. There's no rush. Let me take care of you, would you?"

His meaning was both lustful and tender. She was such a sharp, spiky, defensive, wounded person- but there was very obviously much more to her than that. He wanted to take the time and make her feel good, especially knowing that she had an entire lifetime of pain.

It seemed to be a day for firsts. The first time her skin had stopped hurting. The first time she'd been kissed by a dwarf. And now, the first time she'd ever felt her heart make this strange feeling like a thump inside of her chest. She didn't even know what that meant, but it left her with a feeling like being suspended in midair; something that only faded when she tipped her head just so, brushed their noses together, and then their lips.

Something felt different. She still had no idea what. Maybe time would tell.

But past that, he was right. There wasn't a rush. She wasn't on the run anymore, not really. She wasn't having to look fearfully over her shoulder. She didn't have to worry that he was a plant from Tevinter, or that she was being used. This was, she thought, almost more her idea than his. Or truly more her idea. She was eager for this, wanted it. But that didn't mean it all had to happen now. They had time. An alien idea that she needed to explore.

"All right," she whispered, carding her hands through his hair, cupping his cheeks with tenderness before pressing another warm kiss to his lips.

Varric didn't entirely realize that something had changed. He had felt a rush of protectiveness as soon as she explained about her markings and the pain she lived with. This offer to take care of her was simply a natural extension of that: she lived in constant pain, and he had a chance to show her simple, unencumbered pleasure. She deserved it. Everyone did.

The kiss continued for a while, slow and leisurely, while the hand not wrapped strong around her cupped her breast. He rubbed her nipple gently with soft passes of his thumb, watching her face to drink in her reaction.

"You like that?" he murmured.

"Mmh. Mmhm." She was reluctant to take her mouth from his, but she did. She leaned back so he could have room, so his hands could touch and stroke wherever he wanted, and the reward was... Oh, it was more than worthwhile.

Under the attentions of his thumb, what small amount of hardness her nipple had lost was regained. The other tightened in sympathy. Ever since-- Well, since she'd gained the markings, she'd had to be careful about clothing or contact, and her tunic and breastplate were usually all she could stand. The lyrium was a torment. But Varric's touch had her blood warm, her nerves singing - and, most tellingly, her hips moving against him, even with smalls in the way. "Feels amazing," she sighed, no longer really aware of the air's chill.

She may not have been aware of the chill, but Varric was. Luckily, behind her the small fire had caught and burned merrilly. He reached out with a foot and toed the little pile of kindling and branches they'd set aside into the flames, to stoke them higher. It should prove enough, but he didn't care much.

No, his attention was on her: on worrying that sensitive nub with his thumb, on circling over the hard peak and feeling it perky and sensitive under his touch. He moved his hand so her nipple was between his index and middle fingers, pressing his fingers together with a pressure just shy of pinching. He moved his hand so they toyed with her nipple, pressure and attention both. His other hand came down to do the same to her other breast.

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