Work Text:
1 — there's such a thing as too quiet
Harding squirmed as warm breath stirred the fine hairs that trailed downward from her navel. The strong hands cupped behind her knees tightened their grip, pressing her open. Her hips strained upward as a half-desperate craving uncoiled inside her.
"Taaaaaasshh…" she groaned. The answering growl from between her thighs all but made the room spin. "Taash, pleaaase…"
"Please what?"
She felt them nibble on a patch of soft skin much too far from where she desperately wanted that mouth. "Please, just… I need—"
A strangled intake of breath from the direction of doorway interrupted what little train of thought was left to her. Before she had time to do more than twitch, she heard footsteps receding toward the library.
"Shit," Taash muttered, their weight shifting on the mattress.
Harding grabbed for a corner of the sheet to throw over herself. "Didn't you lock the door?" she hissed.
"Nope."
"Why not?" She squirmed backward, propping herself up on her elbows so she could see the doorway over Taash's horns. "Who was it? Please tell me it wasn't Lucanis."
"It was Lucanis."
"Fuck." Harding flopped back on the bed, throwing one of her arms over her face. "Why does he have to be so sneaky? Why can't he just clomp around like the rest of us?"
She wouldn't have minded Bellara or Neve. Davrin would have been embarrassing, but being both Dalish and a Warden he had relaxed ideas about nudity that would have made the intrusion relatively painless. Even Emmrich would have been preferable. He was always so clinical about everything that it was hard to get too wound up about it.
But Lucanis? She shuddered, wondering if they'd have to spend the next six months avoiding one another.
"S'okay. He left right away," Taash said. "He smelled pretty embarrassed."
"Taash!" she groaned. "That doesn't make it better."
"Sure it does. He's gone."
Harding felt them tugging at the sheet she was clutching but she gripped it all the tighter. "I'm not in the mood any more," she grumbled. "Just the thought of him seeing us… no. Just, no."
With a heavy sigh, Taash crawled up to lie down beside her. "Fine. But we're supposed to head to Arlathan day after tomorrow to help Bellara with elf stuff."
"'Elf stuff'?" Harding raised an eyebrow. "What 'elf stuff'?"
"Ask Bellara," Taash shrugged. "Some kinda artifact. Some kinda ruin."
"Well that explains everything." Harding rolled her eyes but snuggled closer to Taash and was rewarded when their long arm wrapped around her. Taash was always so warm.
"Tucking me under your wing like a mama dragon?" she asked with a little giggle.
"You love it."
"I do," she agreed.
2 — simmer slowly for best results
It was warm in the kitchen. Or maybe that was just Harding's mood. Taash was leaning against the big wooden table and she'd moved in close, slithering her hands up under their top to feel the blunt ridges of their ribs against her palms. The sheer solidity of them made beads of sweat prickle her forehead.
"You wanna do it here?"
There was a note of surprise in Taash's question but they clearly weren't about to call a halt. They grabbed her ass and hitched her up on tiptoe so she was very nearly on top of Taash's knee. Like a kid getting a horsie ride, she thought with a giggle.
"Why not here?" she murmured. Rational thought was wandering away like a flock of stray sheep.
She felt one of Taash's shoulders lift in a shrug. "It's kinda Lucanis's den. Thought you might be worried."
"Nah." She gave a little wriggle and it rubbed her just right against Taash's thigh, sending a shudder of arousal up her spine. "He and Bellara are out with Rook. S'why it's my turn for dinner."
"I want you for dinner," Taash said, sliding their fingers under her waistband.
"You're bad," Harding teased, and then she gasped when Taash flexed their thigh. "Do that again," she said, breathless.
Taash did it again.
It was so, so good but so not enough that it turned her whole brain into some kind of pleasure-seeking machine. Everything else — time, place, duty — had disappeared and all that really mattered was getting the angle just right so she could spiral a bit higher, get a bit closer. She felt like a cup full to the rim with something sweet and golden, just about to spill over.
"It's boiling over," Taash said.
"Yes," she said, fingers clenching, toes curling.
"It's gonna burn."
"Yes!"
"Lace…"
"Taash…"
There was a sharp hiss followed by a crackle. She felt Taash drop her back onto her own feet, leaving her with a heavy, empty feeling between her wobbly legs.
"What the… oh, shit!"
Clouds of steam — she hoped it was steam and not smoke — billowed from an iron kettle and a bunch of the potatoes she'd been cooking had bubbled up onto the stove. Taash grabbed a towel and shifted the heavy pot off the heat, smearing the mess across the surface in the process.
It was definitely smoking now.
Harding scrambled over and stood on her tiptoes to look into the pot. There was still a decent amount of potato in there, even if it looked a little grayish.
"These are probably still good?" she said, looking up at Taash.
Taash cocked their head and gave her a side-eye. "Smells weird."
"I can add cheese?"
"Cheese isn't gonna make it smell any better."
Harding looked down into the pot with a determined little scowl. "Says you."
3 — you gotta test for rot
Harding always enjoyed her stints on watch in Arlathan, where the air was fresh and the sun filtered down through leaves in every shade of green and gold.
Technically it was Taash's watch. But weren't two sets of eyes better than one? Especially when one of those pairs belonged to the former lead scout for the Inquisition. They had an excellent vantage point on this little rise overlooking the creek, not to mention the fact that in the forest there were leaves and twigs aplenty to let them know if anything larger than a songbird was approaching.
Which was good because Harding's eyes were closed, the better to feel the way Taash was nibbling on her neck.
"Fresh air got you feeling frisky?" she breathed.
"Nope," Taash mumbled, backing her against the trunk of a tree. "Fresh air's got nothing to do with it."
Harding gave a little squeak as Taash's big hand went between her legs. Even through her leathers the pressure was intoxicating. "You know, Rook could come wandering up here any time to check on things."
"He's busy with Bellara." Taash said, pinning her in place with their body. "Elf stuff."
"You can't just say 'elf stuff'," Harding corrected, her chiding tone completely undercut by the way her voice hitched in the middle. "They're excavating that chamber but it's —ooh! oh yes, like that — it's lunch time and they could—"
Taash covered her mouth with theirs and Harding gave up trying to explain. Let Rook find them. She no longer cared.
Taash's hand slid to the waistband of her trousers, undoing the laces with purposefulness that made Harding shiver. She gave a little wriggle just to feel how tightly Taash held her against the rough bark. They started to work her trousers down and she lifted her hips to help, sucking in a breath when the breeze tickled her bare bottom and cooled the dampness between her thighs. Then the warmth of Taash's fingers glided over her and every other sensation paled by comparison. She dug in her heels and arched her back, chasing more of that giddy pleasure.
A dull crack under her spine startled her back to alertness. "Wait," she gasped. "I felt something!"
"You better feel something," Taash growled, leaning in even harder.
Harding groaned. The tree trunk groaned. Then with a snap it gave way, tumbling them unceremoniously into the icy water of the creek.
"Vashedan," Taash spluttered as they struggled to find their footing on the slick stones. "You okay?"
"I think so," said Harding. Something sharp was poking her in the butt. That better not be a crayfish, she thought grimly. She rolled to get away from it then clambered clumsily up onto the bank. "You?"
"Yeah." Taash followed her out of the creek, boots squelching. "Ugh. Gonna take hours to get these dry. Nothing worse than wet boots."
"I can think of a few things," she muttered, trying to drag the sodden leather of her trousers back up over her bottom.
4 — surprisingly the flames were not the problem
Astride Taash's hips, Harding's hands explored the fascinating landscape of their torso. It was delicious to finally find some privacy after days of frustration. She'd been very particular about choosing their tent site, hoping for just such an opportunity. It was far enough from the others that the inevitable chatter and song around the campfire was no more than a background rumble, and a convenient clump of brush along one side would muffle any noise they made as long as they weren't too loud.
She definitely planned to make some noise.
"I love sleeping in a tent," she whispered, her palms tracing the curve of Taash's breasts. "It's so cozy. All the night sounds and the fresh air and stars just on the other side of the canvas. But we're tucked away in our own little world."
"Seems like we're not gonna be doing a lot of sleeping." Taash's big hands stroked up Harding's arms and over her bare shoulders.
"Plenty of time to sleep later," Harding murmured.
She trailed her fingertips over Taash's nipples and felt them harden, heard the harsh intake of breath that told the story of Taash's pleasure. Then she heard their belly rumble and she patted it with a little giggle.
"You can't be hungry, you ate three bowls of that stew tonight."
"It's just trying to settle. The only thing I'm hungry for is you." They grabbed her wrist and drew her hand up to press soft lips against her palm. The heat of it made Harding shiver and she leaned down, down across Taash's stomach to try and capture a kiss.
"Careful," Taash said, grabbing for her elbows.
"Oh, I'll be careful all right," she purred, wiggling her hips suggestively.
Taash grunted and for a moment Harding thrilled at drawing such a sound from her lover. Then Taash's belly tensed and a gout of flame shot toward the roof of the tent.
"Hey!" Harding recoiled, batting at her singed bangs. The smell of burnt hair began to fill the tent, followed quickly by the smell of scorched canvas.
"Sorry!" Taash said. "I told you to be careful."
"Well I didn't know you were going to set the tent on fire."
"It's not on fire. It's just a little charred. Here look." Taash rolled over onto one elbow and their horn hooked around the ridgepole.
"Taash, don't!"
Harding made a grab for it but the pole was already on its way down. A dozen square yards of canvas — lightly charred — descended on them, leaving them wallowing in it like a pair of prize hogs.
"Oooooh, Maker take it all!" Harding hissed. She set about trying to disentangle her limbs from Taash's so she could extract them from the wreckage — hopefully without damage to either tent or occupants. To her irritation, her efforts only seemed to be making the snarls worse.
From somewhere in the darkness they heard Davrin's voice. "You two okay?"
"WE'RE FINE," they shouted in unison.
There was a pause. "Whatever you say."
Silence settled once more over the camp, punctuated only by the sound of frogs from the nearby creek. Taash and Harding lay still under their blanket of enveloping canvas, listening to the chorus.
"Maybe I should have stopped at two bowls of stew," Taash said after a few minutes.
"Yeah," Harding sighed. "Maybe you should've."
5 — check your perimeter
"Come on," Harding said. She grabbed Taash's hand as she passed, sweeping them along in her wake. "We’ve got less than an hour."
"What's the rush?" Taash followed her out of the camp and up the slope toward the ruin where the team had spent most of the day. "Where are we going?"
"Up there." Harding pointed to the top of the structure, where a stone parapet and a half-crumbled window sat atop the edifice like the point of a crown.
"Now?"
"Yes, now," Harding said, her face set in grim determination. "Davrin and Assan are out hunting truffles. Neve is helping Lucanis make dinner. Rook and Bellara are busy with that artifact they dug out earlier. So it's gotta be now."
"What is that artifact anyway?" Taash asked, letting go of her hand and falling in beside her. "It was making a weird noise."
"Elf stuff. Who knows." She picked up her pace. "Hurry up! We've got maybe forty-five minutes while everyone's distracted and I'm going to make the most of it."
When they reached the top, it was clear why Harding had chosen this spot. It was blissfully quiet, with stunning views of a meadow and a waterfall. They were also all but assured of privacy, since they'd had to clamber up some old stone blocks and then scale a vine-covered wall to reach their perch. With a contented sigh, Harding set down her bow and quiver and turned to Taash.
"We're here. Now get naked."
As it happened, Harding's patience was too short to permit either of them to achieve full nudity, so they were only in a moderate state of dishabille when they heard the voices.
Harding gritted her teeth. "This cannot be happening." She gripped Taash's horns a little tighter, as if she could keep them in the moment through sheer force of will.
Taash let her nipple slide reluctantly from their lips. "Sounds like Venatori," they murmured. "Lemme have a look."
They gently dislodged Harding's hands and shifted to the side, then rose just enough to peer over the edge of the parapet. "Yep. Venatori all right."
"Seriously?!?" Harding seethed under her breath. "We can't catch a break. What's next, a fucking dragon?"
"Nah. I'd know if one was laired up around here," Taash said, craning their neck to get a better look at the intruders. "There's two dudes. Not too heavily armed. Could be scouts. Maybe we better—"
Harding's bow twanged; both men dropped within a heartbeat of one another. She watched them fall, a dull rage boiling up inside her. When she was sure they were dead, she glanced at Taash, only to find them staring back at her in unvarnished admiration.
"That was hot."
"Thanks," she scowled.
Warring impulses played across Taash's face. "You wanna—"
"No."
"Yeah," Taash agreed regretfully. "Thought you'd say that."
+1 — strategic division of territory
Barefoot on the flagstones of the Lighthouse courtyard, Harding and Taash made their way toward the baths. With each step they descended the air grew a little warmer, a little more humid. Giggling, Harding tugged on the sash of Taash's robe.
"It's been a long time since we had this whole place to ourselves," she said, giddy with anticipation.
"Way too long," Taash agreed. "I told you we shoulda gone to the baths under The Hilt. Nobody there cares what you do. One time I saw a guy getting—"
"Taash!" She blushed and smacked their hip with the back of her hand.
Though the bathing facility was spacious — more like a fancy swimming hole than any bath Harding had ever seen before arriving at the Lighthouse — it was also in fairly frequent use. She didn't mind sharing with Neve or Bellara when they were just getting cleaned up. That felt pretty much like skinny dipping in the lake back home with her girlfriends, though the baths were a whole lot warmer. But that was not quite the dynamic she was looking to achieve this afternoon.
"The point is being alone," she said. "Together. Just you and me. Finally."
"Sounds good to me."
"No burned potatoes. No rotten trees. No surprise Venatori."
"Especially no Venatori."
Harding sighed happily. "I can hardly wait."
As she pushed open the heavy oak door of the bath chamber, she was surprised to hear a splash from within. To her chagrin she found Neve sitting on the edge of the pool with her back to them, her leg dangling lazily in the water.
"Well, well," Neve said, turning to look at them over her shoulder. "I didn't realize it was going to be a party."
"Neve? What are you doing here?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same."
Harding pulled her robe a little more tightly around her. "We were just… that is…"
"Smells like coffee," Taash said, brows knitting. "And—"
"Yes, about that," Neve said regretfully. She looked down and kicked at something in the water. "You're not going to grow gills, no matter how hard you try."
Harding blinked as a wet, dark head rose up out of the pool from between Neve's thighs. It was Lucanis, the whites of his eyes showing like an unbroken horse.
"Hey Lucanis," Taash greeted. "How's it going?"
"Taash," he said in a flat tone. "Harding."
Harding felt like her whole body was blushing. She had been so careful and still ended up in this pickle. "You said you were going to the market in Treviso! I asked twice to be sure!"
"You said you and Taash were going to Rivain for the day!" Lucanis retorted. The lighting was dim but Harding thought he looked as red as she felt.
"Might! I said we might!"
They all stared at one another. It was Neve who finally broke the silence.
"If I may suggest," she drawled, "since Rook took Bellara and Davrin to Hossberg to show that new artifact to the Wardens, it is just the four of us here."
"They can count, Neve," Lucanis growled. He was still mostly invisible, having kept as low in the water as he could without drowning.
"Just the four of us," she repeated, giving Lucanis a sharp look, "in the whole of the Lighthouse."
Harding thought she was beginning to catch Neve's drift. "So if we know the two of you are here…"
"…or possibly in my office," Neve added.
"Mierda," Lucanis muttered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"…or possibly in your office, then you are NOT going to be, say, in my room. Or Taash's room. Or the library."
"Excellent deduction, Harding." Neve grinned at her. "Shall we call the kitchen a neutral zone?"
"Agreed," Harding said with quick nod. She nudged Taash and started for the door. " Let's get out of here."
"Where are we going?" they asked.
"Higher ground. I've negotiated a tactical retreat." Taking their hand, she turned back to Neve and gave her a satisfied smile. "Sorry for the interruption!"
"All's forgiven," Neve said with a little wave. "Have a lovely afternoon, you two."
Harding, who had already started up the stairs, did not pause to look back.
"Count on it," she said.