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Rook loathed what the Hossberg Wetlands had become; it made her skin crawl to trudge through thick, oozing mud and the grotesque blight boils that marred the landscape. Her deep-seated animosity towards Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain felt like a raging inferno, fueled by the countless lives lost in their mad scramble for power. Each step through the desolation only solidified her resolve—the gods had to be stopped, and the urgency of the mission weighed heavily on her heart.
Yet, she found herself at a loss for clues about their whereabouts. A nagging feeling gnawed at her, whispering that perhaps she was to blame for their inertia, that her lack of leadership skills weighed down their progress. Although she knew this wasn’t true, she dove headfirst into a myriad tasks, desperately grasping at anything that could tether her wandering thoughts. Still, the relentless tide of misfortune surrounded them at every turn, each failed rescue a reminder of their plight, leaving not even a glimmer of hope to pierce the oppressive gloom of the day.
“You alright, Rook?”
The voice sliced through the tangled web of her thoughts, pulling her from the depths of her mind and back to the comforting presence of the Lighthouse. The plush chair cradled her, its solid surface grounding her in reality. The steaming cup of tea filled her hands with warmth, its fragrant smell chasing away the stench of the Wetlands.
“Oh, Davrin,” she greeted him with a weary smile. “I guess I’m just lost in thought,” she answered as she stared into the dark liquid of her cup, her brows furrowing in thought.
“Thinking about our next move?” he asked, sitting across from her on one of the chairs. “How do we find the gods?”
Rook anxiously worried her lower lip between her teeth, her mind caught in a whirlwind of his question and a dozen others clamoring for attention. A plan eluded her, slipping away like sand through her fingers. Each time she conjured a plan of action, or an idea, it inevitably unravelled, spiralling into chaos. Yet, as the team leader, admitting her lack of direction was not an option. They relied on her steadiness, ability to navigate the tumultuous waters ahead, and the weight of her responsibility pressed heavily on her shoulders.
The fate of Thedas seemed to rest heavily on her shoulders.
“We still need to wait a bit for—,” she tried to answer with conviction, but she heard her voice waver. “Right now, I’m just focused on what we can do for the little people?”
His brow arched slightly, yet his expression remained calm and unreadable. “You don’t sound sure about that,” he observed, his voice steady. He leaned in, cradling her hands within his much larger ones, the roughness of his calloused palms contrasting sharply with the softness of her skin. “If you ever need to talk or someone to help quiet the thoughts,” he lifted a hand, pressing his thumb against her forehead and smoothed out the wrinkles between her brows, “my door’s always open.”
She stared up at him, her mouth slightly agape in surprise, before closing it with a nervous laugh, saying, “Thanks.”
They sat in companionable silence, his hands still cradling hers, keeping her grounded, even as the tea warmed and cooled. Then, the panty door opened, and he eased away smoothly, leaning back in his chair as if nothing had happened between them.
The offer was the catalyst that had led her to this moment. With her fist poised to knock, her heart raced in an erratic rhythm in her chest, an unsettling mix of anticipation and dread. Steeling her nerves, she let her knuckles rap decisively against the solid wooden door. Taking a deep breath, she battled the instinct to turn and run, to tuck her tail between her legs and escape back to her room.
The door opened briefly, and Davrin stood before her, smiling as he leaned against the doorway. “Our fearless leader,” he hummed as he took in her ruffled appearance, “Need help with something?”
“You said if I ever wanna talk or get out of my head, your door was always open?” she reminded him as she tucked her hair behind her ears, fiddling with something to do with her hands. “I can come back another time if now isn’t—”
“Rook,” he interrupted before she could continue her ramble, “Come on in.”
She fought to suppress a cringe that threatened to surface as she stepped into the brightly lit room behind him. The heavy door thudded shut, generating a muffled sound that echoed the finality of her lost opportunity for escape.
Rook had been in Davrin’s room a handful of times, usually not on a social call, but to check up on him as team leader or receive the details of a mission. But now, she could enjoy how cozy he had made it, with his shelves full of carvings and the spine of some enormous beast curving around the ceiling. It was more lived-in than her space in the mediation room.
“So, you wanted to talk?” he asked as he gestured for her to sit on the little red armchair—how had he gotten an armchair here?—before leaning against the wall across from it.
Her tongue felt like lead, and she swallowed thickly before trying to answer, “Not talking exactly. Just, I’ve been thinking—a lot. And I want to stop. Stop thinking. Stop worrying. Just stop. And I thought if I slept, it might help, but between my dreams and Solas in my head. I just—.”
“—Need a break?” he finished for her, as he leaned off the wall to stand in front of her, his hands on the chair’s armrests, bracketing her in. “We could do some sparring, get you out of your head. Or take a walk through Arlathan, though chances are we run into some Mercenaries, or stray demons.”
She shook her head nervously and laughed, “I don’t think I have any energy for sparring, let alone a hike in Arlathan Forest, especially if I’ll have to fight my way through it.”
“I figured,” he replied with a low chuckle, leaning back slightly. A playful glint sparkled in his eyes as he continued, “You know, there’s one other way to go about this. But only if you’re comfortable with it.”
She stared inquisitively at him, her brows furrowed as if trying to decipher what he meant by reading his face alone. “Go on.”
And in a blink of an eye, he was on his knees, his fingers deftly undoing her trousers and lifting her hips to slide them off until they pooled around her knees. “It’s better if I just show you, yeah?”
Her eyes opened wide in surprise and shock. Rook was no stranger to intimacy. She had done her fair share of sloppy make-outs and under-the-clothes touching back in the Necropolis before she had been loaned to Varric. But, this was still a surprise, having Davrin on his knees before her, his hands on her thighs as he massaged them. Davrin was everything she wanted to be as a team leader; steady and dependable.
She nodded as she pressed her hand over her mouth, while he rolled her underwear down her hips and onto the floor to join her trousers. Then, he eased her forward, until she was half-laying in the chair, with nothing between him and her pussy.
Rook nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt his tongue lick a broad strip over the lips of her pussy, before he pressed it between her folds, dragging it over her clit. She could see why he thought this would work for her. Rook could only focus on the warmth of his tongue and his hands as they gripped her hips to keep her steady. And as if he couldn’t get enough from this position, she felt him tug at the leg of her trousers and her underwear until they came off, tossing her feet over his shoulders so he could bury his face in her pussy.
She stifled a moan with her hand, the other gripping the arm rest as her chair as his tongue delved inside her. He built up the pressure growing inside her with his tongue, and alternating between sucking on her clit until her mind clouded with nothing but need.
She needed more. More of this. More of him.
Her ass almost lifted off the seat, trying to chase the feeling of his tongue inside her, desperate to add more to the sensation, but firm hands kept her in place, so she could only take what he was willing to offer. Rook wanted nothing more than to ride his face, to chase her pleasure if he wasn’t willing to give it to her.
It was slowly becoming maddening.
Especially when he placed one hand below her navel, applying pressure while he sucked on her clit like a thirsty man desperate for water.
“Davrin,” she gasped out as she locked her thighs around his head, trying to pull him closer than he already was. “Davrin!” she tried again, though she wasn’t sure what she was calling him for, certainly not to stop. Maybe for more?
Her thoughts were becoming a jumbled mess, more so when she felt a finger slip inside her as he mouthed at her clit. She loosened her grip on the arm rest to grip his hair when he added another, working them inside her to find the spot that would make her come undone on his tongue and fingers.
And she did come undone, when he curled his fingers inside her, finding the spot he was skillfully searching for early. Rook could feel her mounting pleasure building inside her before washing over her in waves. She managed to untangle her hand from his hair to bury her face in both hands as she felt her thighs quiver around his head and her toes curl in her boots.
“—about earlier?” she heard him ask after he removed his mouth from her pussy, but still kept his fingers inside, working her through her orgasm.
She dropped her hands from her face, letting them rest on her heaving chest. Her brows furrowed, her mind sluggish as she tried to process what he said. “What?” she asked, finally giving up, her mind preoccupied with the shininess of her release on his lips and the fingers still actively inside her.
“What were you thinking about earlier?”
Rook blinked owlishly, feeling as if in slow motion, “I can’t quite remember.”
“Good,” he grinned at her, licking his lips as he curled his fingers inside her, grabbing her hand before she could bat him away. He kissed her fingertips before letting her hand go, and finally withdrew her fingers. “But, we need to be sure you can’t remember.”
With that, he stood up, bending over to pick her up in his arms with unsurprising ease, for she had seen him take on Ogres and Antaam, cutting through them like butter. He carried her over to the corner where his bed was tucked, sitting her down on it to help her remove the rest of her clothes, dropping them on the floor. Then he shrugged his shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor and allowing her an eyeful of his chiselled form.
Curiously, she pressed a hand to his stomach, fanning her fingers outwards before sliding it up his abs and to his chest. Davrin’s skin was scarred, and she idly wandered about the story behind each ridge and bump, but now didn’t seem like a good time to ask, especially when he looked at her with hunger.
Finally, he stood before her bare, his cock standing at attention. He leaned down to cup her face and kissed her, slotting his knee between her thighs and easing them apart. She kissed back just as eagerly, allowing herself to be manhandled by him as she tossed her hands around his shoulder, until her head was on the pillow and he was hovering over her, holding himself up by his elbows with her legs spread for him.
Rook was wet and ready thanks to his earlier ministrations. She groaned when he pulled away from the kiss, trailing them down her jaw and neck, nipping at the flesh there. The head of his dick rubbed against the wet folds of her entrance, slipping a few times due to just how wet she was. Impatient, she reached down between them, gripping the base and helping to guide him inside.
Her first thought was how uncomfortable it felt. Yes, Davrin had done his best to prepare her, but it had been a while since she had had sex with anyone, even before she had left the Necropolis with Varric. He was patient enough to take his time and let her adjust to the change gradually, and Rook tried to chase his lips with her own, pressing a searing kiss to his lips when she found them.
Davrin’s thrusts were shallow and slow, testing the waters and drawing moans from her lips. “I’ve wanted to do this a long time,” he groaned into her mouth as he worked himself deeper into her pussy. He swallowed her whine as he picked up his pace. Fucking her fast. Deeper. Uncaring about the way her blunt nails clawed at his back. “You feel better than I imagined.”
Thinking was beyond her, and Rook couldn’t do anything but moan and whine, while he split her in two on his dick. The prior discomfort was a thing of the past, gone with the first few thrusts, all she felt now was pure pleasure. Rook wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into his back and a hand cradling the nape of his neck as she drowned in wave after wave of pleasure.
His movement was erratic now, a clear sign he was nearing his end, his head burying in the nape of her neck to stifle his noises. Not that she fared any better, Rook could feel herself getting close too, writhing in ecstasy under him. With a pretty moan and an arch of her back, she felt herself cumming around his dick, her walls squeezing up around him.
Rook felt him cum with a groan, finishing inside her and filling her with his seed.
They lay there in silence, trying to catch their breath as Rook still clung to him, rubbing circles into his back. She stared at the ceiling, her mind thankfully empty for once since she started this mission.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Rook laughed softly before shaking her head, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”