
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12438699.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Dragon_Age_II
  Relationship:
      Sebastian_Vael/Original_Female_Character(s), Varric_Tethras/Original
      Female_Character(s), Isabela/Zevran_Arainai/Original_Female_Character(s),
      Fenris/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Original_Female_Character(s), OC_-_Rumor, my_oc, Sebastian_Vael, Original
      Male_Character(s), Varric_Tethras, Isabela_(Dragon_Age), Zevran_Arainai,
      Fenris_(Dragon_Age)
  Additional Tags:
      5_Times, 1_Time, Kisses, NSFW, Implied_Sexual_Content, Implied_Sexual
      Exploitation_of_a_Minor, Blackmail, Morning_Kisses, First_Love, Implied/
      Referenced_Torture, Blood_and_Injury, Dubcon_Kissing, Implied/Referenced
      Character_Death, Grief, Morning_After, Hangover, One_Night_Stands,
      implied_drunk_sex, Male-Female_Friendship, Friends_With_Benefits,
      Threesome_Kisses, Teasing, Fun, Unexpected_Kiss, Long-Awaited_Kiss, End
      Of_Pining, beginning_of_relationship, Dark, in_places
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-21 Words: 1934
****** Five Kisses, and The One That Mattered ******
by ShannaraIsles
Summary
     Five times a kiss from Rumor marked her, and the one time a single
     kiss made the world stand still for her.
     Note - this is a little dark in places. Written as an exercise to get
     into the head of my OC Rumor before attempting to place her fully
     into a story. The tags are there for a reason. Please read them, and
     if you're not up for brushing against the contents, don't read and
     then attack me for it. The warnings are there.
Notes
     I'm adding the warning again, folks - read the tags and make the
     decision before you read this one! Nothing graphic, but the
     implications are there. This is an exercise to get into the head of
     Rumor, my newest OC, who has something of a dark backstory.
     Bioware owns it all, I'm just paddling and sharing my splashes.
===============================================================================
 
 
i. The Playboy Prince
 
"I-I didn't know ..."
He stammered and flushed, his horror at the situation he found himself in
making her giggle. What he thought had happened was not truly the case, but she
wasn't going to tell him that. The playboy prince of Starkhaven had taken what
he thought was a girl of seventeen to his bed, though all he had done was kiss
her before the powder she'd slipped him had done its work. As he slept, she'd
robbed him, and chosen to remain to sleep at his side - the first unbroken
night's sleep she'd had in more than a year. He'd woken to find her dressing
herself, and in the cold light of the morning, had seen the signs that betrayed
her youth, despite the woman's form she wore.
"Please, wee one, I didn't ... you're not to say a word ..."
"Or you'll do what to me, my lord?" she asked, hands on her skinny hips,
reveling in the power she held over him. It was her first real taste of the
strength knowledge could give her; the first step on the path to who she would
become. "You keep it close, and so shall I. And perhaps, one day when I ask for
your help, you'll give it. Aye?"
Gratitude crossed his broken expression; a hasty nod, and his hand offered to
seal the bargain. Her silence in return for his friendship - it was not such a
terrible choice. Oh, but the way he flinched when she kissed his hand ... it
sent her away with a wicked grin. He'd never know he hadn't committed the sin
that sent him to the Chantry so willingly, and she would never tell him
otherwise.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
ii. The First Love
 
The softness of silk on bare skin, slender limbs stretching beneath rich sheets
that rumple and slide with every movement. A warm hand stroking the tangle of
dark hair back from her face, tender lips brushing kisses to eyelids not yet
ready to open.
She smiled to herself, keeping those eyes closed even as she reached for the
fullness of Marsa's form beside her own, gathering her teacher, her lover, her
friend, close into the wrap of her arms. Ten years separated them, yet age did
not matter so much. What mattered was this warmth she felt whenever she looked
on those intelligent eyes; the crackle of heat with every touch; the tenderness
that came with each smile. Marsa was her love, her lover, the first she had
chosen for her own. Marsa was embedded in her heart, a secret hidden for the
ages to come.
"Wake up, little nug," that caramel rich voice coaxed, rough with sleep but
filled with intent.
She mumbled something incoherent, wanting to stay here, wrapped in the luxury
of silken sheets and Marsa's arms, glorying in every curve that pressed to her
own. A slow grin tweaked at her lips, a playful urge rushed through her, and
she rolled to pin her lover down, one knee between her beautiful thighs,
breasts pressed tight together as young lips longing for love met the mouth
that had begun to teach her how many ways love could be felt. Soft and tender,
brimming with promise, this kiss was one of many - held close to her heart and
never forgotten through all the long years that came after.
 
===============================================================================
 

iii. Reynard's Revenge
 
The knife, dripping blood from the body of her first love, scored along her
collarbone, digging deep, to the bone, to mark her. She sobbed, pain and
anguish combining, a broken heart beating inside a beaten body, hanging from
chains that had held her in check as his men bled the spirit and the life from
Marsa's beautiful being. Blood poured from the open wound left by the knife,
her own blood mixing with her lover's as it trickled over the bruised bareness
of her body. He'd taken everything from her - comfort, dignity, pride, love -
and now there she hung, naked and shaken, grieving for what would never live
again, with his mark adorning her skin.
"Something to remember me by, kitten."
His voice, once trusted, now hated, poured over her in a choking syrup,
breaking into laughter as she heaved in response. One cruel hand gripped the
thick tangle of her hair, lifting her up from her knees, forcing her to look at
the remains of the woman who had taught her how to survive in this world. The
woman who had loved her for who she was, not what she could provide.
"Beautiful, isn't she, kitten?" he snarled against her ear. "You should have
stayed with me."
Harsh lips closed over her mouth, ignoring her protest, ignoring her disgust,
taking from her the kiss she had never wanted to give him. Her own lips, dry
and parched from the ordeal of his punishments, split beneath the force of that
kiss, a new layer of pain to sting and burn as she felt her hands released from
the chains. His laughter in her ears as he pushed her away; as hands gripped
her arms, dragging her up from where she fell, feet scraped raw against
flagstones and dirt. Broken and bleeding, she landed in the gutter, dark sobs
wrenched from her gut as she scrabbled for purchase in the pouring rain. And in
her heart, a dark flame burned. He would come to regret his actions.
 
===============================================================================

iv. The Dwarven Dreamer
 
Another morning, years later, bringing with it the heavy staleness of a night's
drinking and an ache she had not experienced before. Those bright eyes of hers
forced themselves open, squinting in the daylight that filtered in from the
high window. A broad chest beneath her cheek, sprinkled liberally with sandy
hair; a thick arm laying over her back, hand warm between her shoulder-blades.
Her skin as bare as his; the familiar thrum of an itch well-scratched, in spite
of the vague pain between her thighs, satisfaction that she hadn't needed to
find a friendly whore this time.
"I hear a rumor ..."
She snorted with laughter at the old joke, pushing up onto her elbows to poke
the dwarf firmly in the stomach. He laughed with her, both of them wincing just
a little at the uneasy feeling of mirth on top of a terrible hangover.
"This doesn't change anything," she pointed out, eyeing him warily as he
shifted up onto his elbows to admire the view she presented.
There was the sadness from the night before, the whole reason he had allowed
himself to fall into bed with her. "No, it doesn't," he sighed. "You're still
not her."
"At least you're honest with yourself about it," she told him gently, rising to
dress. "There's not many who could be."
"It isn't like I have a choice," her dwarven companion admitted, reaching out
to touch her back before she escaped. "Rumor ... thanks."
She smiled once again, twisting to lean over and brush a kiss to his cheek,
drumming her fingers against his chest. "One day you'll realize she's not worth
this aching," she told him with gentle understanding. "Doesn't matter how long
it takes to happen - you're a friend now."
He grimaced a faint smile in return. "Does that mean -?"
She smirked, laying a finger against his lips. "First served," she conceded.
"But no discounts."
 
===============================================================================
 

v. No Strings Attached
 
The slap of hand to knuckles, a low laugh resounding above her head in answer.
She was busy, dexterous fingers drawing laces free to loosen the sailcloth-
linen that bound the glorious confidence of the pirate who never said no. Hands
smoothed down to gather the cloth in her palms, drawing it upward to bare the
full beauty of Rivaini womanhood to her hungry eyes.
"Enjoying yourself, sweet thing?"
A slow grin parted her lips as she met those knowing eyes, letting hands she
knew well open her own shirt and pull her close, into a lazy meeting of sensual
desire, tongues stroking with infinite patience as fingers teased over full
curves and slender waists. New hands found her hips, a male form pressing to
her back as other lips sought the tender line of her throat with a wicked purr.
"You did not think to leave me wanting, ladies?"
The pirate laughed as the assassin's hands slid to her own hips, pulling her
close enough to squeeze the rogue between them. Best of both worlds; hands and
lips and laughing desire, with no expectation of soft words or loving
exchanges. A Crow and a captain, and the rumor that had brought them back to
one another ... such kisses were a sweet distraction from the chaos the city
was falling into.
 
===============================================================================
 

vi. A Silenced Rumor
 
The alley was barely wide enough to hold them both pressed together, dark
shapes against the darker shadows, alert for any sound of following footsteps.
His hands lay on the wall either side of her, boxing her in; his breath played
against her jaw as she studied the street for any sign of pursuit. It did not
come. A soft breath of relief released as she turned her face toward his, and
found him so close she could taste his breath. Green eyes bore into her own,
seeing more than she wanted, a dark punctuation point when set against the soft
sheen of white lyrium that marked his skin.
Lips parted, and his gaze snapped down, leaving her eyes to fix on the soft
pillow of her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat at the storm darkening his
eyes, the desire she was certain he had never shown her before this moment.
Before she could summon the words to tease, his head dipped to hers, his lips
brushed the pink press of her own, and the kiss she had never expected was
suddenly all she could think of. Tender and warm, the warrior was no fearsome
specter in this moment, no enemy to be watched from a distance. Yet it was
barely a moment before he was pulling away, his gravel-deep voice murmuring
apologies.
"I'm sorry, that was unasked for. I should not have -"
Her lips stopped his, needing to know that kiss meant more than a simple loss
of thought in the silence of the moment. He gasped, and she tried to pull away,
for once afraid she had overstepped her bounds. But gauntleted hands were on
her, smoothing over the firm curve of her rear, cupping to keep her head from
retreating as his mouth slanted over hers, hot and hungry, daring to feel more
than mere tolerance for the rogue that had kept the wolf unchained all these
years.
Hesitant for the first time since Marsa's first kisses, she let her fingertips
stroke to his back, his side, one hand rising to curl her touch to the elven
jaw that she had seen so often fixed in a scowl in her direction. Her thumb
brushed the swirling markings that made him what he was, and he stiffened,
allowing her to break that kiss.
"Does it hurt?" she heard herself whisper, unwilling to throw away this moment,
this kiss, simply out of fear.
That resigned smile showed itself, a lopsided quirk of lips accompanied by a
quiet chuckle to warm her mouth as he drew her back to himself. "Less with
you," he murmured, silencing Rumor with another of those unexpected kisses.
One night or a lifetime, one kiss or many, this was the kiss she had been
waiting for all her life. Let Kirkwall burn; let the world come to ruin. Just
let her have this one perfect moment, to remember for all time.
 
===============================================================================
 
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
