elfhame | PSL in which Justice goes off with Velanna

Anders frowns. "You know how dangerous the Deep Roads are, right? Giving you a map, showing you the entrance, it could be as good as sending your brother and his expedition to their deaths?"

"What's a little risk for a chance at making a killing?" Varric seems completely unbothered, despite talking about his brother's life. That doesn't make this that much easier. ...But Karl could be suffering, and Anders can't be certain that his letter reached the man. If Bartrand and the others wanted to take stupid risks, who are they to stop them? They'd find a way in one way or another. And he needs to get to Karl.

Exhaling, Anders meets Nathaniel's gaze before slowly nodding. "They're Dwarves, they know what they're headed into. But since the maps are valuable, and hard to get... I'd like a little more." He looks back to the Dwarf. "I want backup. What we're doing, where we're going, you know it's not going to be easy. Another person, or another couple of people, coming in with us, would make all of us even."

Nathaniel's company and support is invaluable. But if Templars get involved, Anders would like to have more than just one person there. Especially when that one person is the only friend he's had in so very long.

"Get us support, I don't care how unsavory as long as they'll get the job done, help us get him out, and the maps are yours."

He's never bargained with a Dwarf before, because Oghren doesn't count. Anders doesn't know how this might go. There's some silence as the Dwarf studies him, frowning.

"I don't know what you know about where you're headed, but it's not an easy place to get into."

Anders nods and lowers his voice, not like it's really needed with the volume of the tavern. "That's why we're not going in there. We're walking into the Chantry, because he's allowed in there for prayer. We meet him, we get out. The backup is for in case, not some sort of frontal assault."

Varric looks consideringly at Anders now, taking a sip of his ale before looking at Nathaniel next.

"He's a determined one, I'll give you that. Tell you what. I bring some men, you give the maps, and you'll still owe me a little... but I won't make it hurt too much."

"You have my sincere gratitude, Varric," Nathaniel says with a nod.

"I'm as weak for adoration as the next dwarf," Varric says, "but I've got some bad news you're probably going to hate me for. A mercenary company was hired to get involved in local politics. The entire Vael family was slaughtered, along with its retainers."

Nathaniel stares at him. A moment later, he sits down in a nearby chair and stares blankly at the floor.

"You're certain? All of its retainers?"

Varric winces and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry."

Anders looks between the two of them. Vael means nothing to him, but it's clear the family had been important. Slowly, a little nervously, Anders reaches over and puts an arm around Nate's shoulders.

"Should we find a place to bed down for the night? Process the news, get ready to adjust to the city? We're looking to act in a week's time, more than enough time to go over the details."

He's speaking mostly to Nathaniel than anything else. And, in interest of giving his friend an excuse:

"I'm tired; it's been a long day."

This wakes Nathaniel a bit from his stupor, and he nods. Varric winces again, then reaches into a cupboard and hands him a bottle.

"Peat whisky. Tastes like dirt. I remember your favorite. Have them send the bill for your room tonight to me. I'm sorry for your loss."

Nathaniel takes the bottle numbly. Farewells are exchanged. They are shown to a room. Nathaniel sits on the bed--singular--and covers his face with his hands, elbows on his knees.

Anders doesn't know what to do. It's clear Nate's lost friends. After a few moments of inner turmoil, Anders sits next to Nathaniel and wraps his arms fully around the man. While not completely certain how far he's capable of going right now, Anders knows one way to offer comfort. He's given it before, and received it, when people have vanished from the Circle.

"Let me help you. Whether it's words or... not talking at all." Anders kisses the corner of Nathaniel's mouth. "Alcohol, or more physical escapes. What do you need?"

It's not cheating. He and Karl always knew that if they were separated the other was free to take lovers, that the Circles were cold and lonely without company, and it's not like he's betraying the feelings he has for Karl, either. This is something friendly, freely offered and given, without strings attached.

Ser Rodolphe was barely family. A cousin to his mother, Orlesian by birth, and a hellion to squire for. But he gave Nathaniel more guidance than anyone, cared for him in his own way, and that was better than most of his closer family accomplished. Nathaniel had left Starkhaven to protect him, after the news about his father came out. He returned to Ferelden, learned his father and brother were dead, and watched Adria slain before his eyes. And all this time, he should have been in Starkhaven, defending his master.

Warm, dry lips are on his, and he wants to turn his face, to kiss him fully, but it would be under some pretense. This is one of a series of losses, but the implications of it aren't just grave for Nathaniel. He looks at Anders mournfully.

"My old master was one of the retainers to the Vael family," he says lowly. "He is the one I was going to take us to, after we rescued your friend. Now we have nowhere to go."

Anders exhales heavily, but doesn't pull away. There's pain in Nate's voice and expression, and while this does mean a change in their plans, Nate matters more tonight.

"We'll figure this out. I'll spend some time tomorrow looking for a couple of people and seeing what I could find; I'm certain you'll be busy as well. We'll come up with another plan. But let's not think about that right now. What this means to our plans isn't as important as what this means to you, Nathaniel." A beat. "Nate."

They're close enough. Nate matters enough.

He should do it. Kiss Anders and press him into the mattress and make love to him until he's exhausted. Any other night, he would want it. But tonight, his impulses take him somewhere else. He finds himself wrapping his arms around Anders and bringing him down to the bed, cuddling him close.

"I'm not going to use you," he sighs. "I just. Want to keep someone. I want to stop losing people."

Oh. This is rather nice, actually, and Anders cuddles right back, trying to ignore exactly how nice it is. He's never had the luxury of cuddling before.

"You have me," he replies, though it's a little muffled because his face is pressed against Nate's neck. "You've stood with me, come with me, and I'm not going to leave you. You'll not lose me."

Making a life for three is no more complicated than it is for two, and Nate's not a mage. It makes every bit of sense in the world for Anders' friend to stay with him and Karl.

The lack of a kiss back is the only reason Anders isn't kissing and getting handsy, or telling Nate it's not use when it's offered freely. Instead, he uses a foot to hook one shabby blanket and pass it up to a hand, which he uses to draw the blanket fully over them.

"You're the best friend I've ever had. And one of the very first to ever stand up for me. You're stuck with me, Nate."

Friend. The word feels like an insult. Nathaniel isn't sure if he should be more or less than a friend, and either way is altogether unworthy of the title. Not when the scent of Anders' hair is in his nostrils and he is imagining holding him like this forever, while the man Anders loves is waiting to be rescued.

Nathaniel sighs, and something eases in his chest as he names his feelings for what they are. Love is a safe thing to feel, he supposes, when the object of his affection is already taken with another. Perhaps in the next week, he should accept Anders' offer of sex. Make good on it while he can. He's not sure if that would make things better or worse.

"And where you come from, friends sleep together?" he asks softly. "You don't find it...complicates things?"

He's quiet for a few moments. They've crossed the line where Anders hides everything behind half-jokes and innuendo, but he's feeling very open as he snuggles with Nate. A moment later, he's recalling exactly how much he trusts Nathaniel, and now Anders does press a kiss to Nathaniel's neck.

"Where I'm from, friends are rare, and sex is one of the few comforts and escapes we have. It's only gotten complicated once." Which is why they're in Kirkwall. "Friends help friends, and I know how good sex can feel, how well it can take away the pain if only for a short time. You've supported me; I'd enjoy supporting you in return."

"But you don't owe me anything, Anders." The kiss on his neck leaves a flicker of flame, and Nathaniel melts into it. Further south, something else is most definitely stirring, and he can't stop thinking of how good Anders' hair smells. He finds himself nuzzling against that golden hair, despite his protests. "You're not indebted, and even if you were, this wouldn't be the way to pay it back.

"I don't recall saying anything about owing or debt," Anders says with a smile on his lips and in his voice. Nate's nuzzling against his hair. "I believe my words were about how I'd enjoy it."

He's realizing it's true, too. He's not worried about being touched, not shying away from Nathaniel's hold. This already feels good.

"I want to help you through this, whatever shape that help takes." Another kiss now. Nate's worrying about him, worrying about consent, not saying he's not interested. It's touching, and this is one of few ways Anders knows to show affection and appreciation.

That can't be all there is to it. Anders can't just want the best for him, because Nathaniel has never deserved the best. If he had, someone before now would have done what was best for him, just once, instead of expecting him to make every sacrifice.

Or maybe he needs to stop punishing himself for not being good enough for his parents. Take one last look at the ghosts and let them go. Accept nurturing like water for his dry soul before it crumbles.

"You really don't mind?" His lips press against hair, then forehead. His breathing is becoming more labored; his erection can be felt against Anders' hip. "I would make it good for you. I just...want...to feel you close. Close as you can be. I want to know you're really here."

There they go, Nate's kissing him back, and Anders can feel Nate's growing interest.

"Oh, Nathaniel." All the doubt there, as if Anders wouldn't be interested, wouldn't want this. He shifts up to touch his lips to Nate's briefly, meeting the archer's gaze directly after.

"There's no minding to it. I want you, and I want to comfort you. Both of these line up perfectly together."

Reaching up, Anders brushes his fingers through Nate's hair. "I'm here." Now he tilts his head to kiss Nate's neck again. "Feel me here." One hand goes between them to loosen one of his robe ties before he's taking Nate's hand and guiding it to feel bare flesh over Anders' heart. "For you. I'm really here for you."

The archer is beautiful, and in far more than looks. This vulnerability, this doubt, Anders wants to kiss it away. He deserves to lose himself and be happy, if only for a few seized moments.

Goosebumps rise up when Anders runs his fingers through his hair. Nathaniel's hand slides over Anders' skin, feeling the drum of his heartbeat, and finally, he touches his lips to Anders', lightly at first before nudging gently into Anders' mouth. Soft, hot, sweet. He thinks back to the night at the camp, eyelashes batting at him, I want to know if you fuck as well as you fight.

He presses against the beat of that heart, rolling Anders onto his back, feeling heat well up where they connect. I want you, and I want to comfort you. Nathaniel does not think he has ever been wanted before, not like Anders means. Kept, held dear, cherished. After all they have been through together, this makes sense. It feels right.

"Is there any oil?" he murmurs against Anders' mouth. He can use spit, but he doesn't want to if he can help it.

He makes a quiet, pleased noise when Nate kisses his lips, parting them to allow Nate's tongue entry as easily as he follows Nate's guidance. It's all sweet and gentle, something he's rarely had, and Nate is delicious. His body is responding, erection pressing against Nate in return as Anders wraps arms around Nate and runs his hands along the archer's strong back.

"Yes," he says quietly, before releasing Nate with one hand and reaching into robe pockets, searching. "I was planning on oiling my staff tonight, but it seems we'll be oiling yours instead."

There's so much smirk in his voice. A couple of moments (and some wiggling under Nathaniel that may or may not be deliberate) later he's found the vial and is pressing it into one of Nate's hands. There will be plenty of vendors he can get more from so he can take care of his actual, wooden, blade-on-the-end magical staff later.

Nathaniel can taste that smirk. He makes a small sound into Anders' mouth when he feels him wriggling beneath him, and takes the vial when he feels it in his hand.

"What do you like?" he asks breathlessly. "What do you want me to do?"

'Everything' is far too vague, but Anders is definitely something of a hedonist. He kisses Nate again before answering, and the first part of the answer is physical - Anders shifts so that his legs are parting, spreading open, bracketing Nate.

"I seem to recall this being about comforting you," he answers. "I like so many things, Nate. Gentle and rough, fast and slow, sucking and being sucked, taking and being taken. I'd like to be taken, but beyond that, I want you to do what you like. Someone else enjoying my body with me is one of my greatest pleasures. Enjoy yourself with me. Let go."

And this kiss is hungry, tongue tangling with Nate's. The archer is thinking too much when he needs to feel and go with instinct.

Oh. Oh, oh oh, Nate is definitely talking too much. He slides one hand behind Anders' neck and holds him there while he ravishes his mouth. The hand holding the oil trails down the exposed line of skin beneath his open robe. A moment later, he is tugging that robe the rest of the way off, then getting to work on the rest of their clothes. He has seen Anders in various states of dress, but never allowed himself to gaze on him and drink in his body with his eyes.

He does now, when they are both naked and Nathaniel sits back to have a good look. Every inch of Anders' skin is golden, occasionally marked with scars but still completely perfect from top to bottom. His body hair is also golden but sparse, with a silken line of it running down his belly to the thatch of it around his slender cock. And oh, that cock.

Nathaniel slides back and dips down, impulsively tasting the head of that cock, running his tongue around the tip before taking it deep into his mouth.

That's more like it, Nate getting into the moment. Anders is more than happy to help undress himself... and then stretch out and show off as Nate looks him over. He's beautiful and he knows it. What he didn't know, at all, was one, that Nate was as handsome as he'd imagined, and two, that Nate had a liking for, or even, apparently, talent at sucking cock.

Anders groans as Nate takes him in, eyes going wide briefly before there's so much more to pay attention to than his own surprise.

"Oh," he gasps, and it's all he can say at first. But not all he can do; Anders spreads his legs as far as they can go, turning himself into a complete invitation, before reaching down to rest his hand on Nate's head. His nails gently explore Nate's scalp, playing, encouraging without forcing.

"Maker. As... As striking as I'd imagined, and talented with your tongue, too."

"Mmmmmmm," Nathaniel replies around Anders' length, nuzzling that silk at the base of it, then getting to demonstrating that talent Anders mentioned. He is tempted to keep this up, keep sucking until he tastes seed, but Anders has made only the one request of him, and he must comply. After a bit, he eases off, stroking one creamy thigh soothingly.

"I do my best." He opens the vial and slicks his fingers. "Now, what would you like me to do, again?"

By the time Nate's easing back, Anders is panting, sweaty, and flushed, clearly enjoying every second of this - something that's reinforced by the way he whimpers when Nate releases his length from that perfect mouth.

For a moment, Nate gets a confused, glazed-eye look as his only answer to the question. Then Anders clues in, and he feels a whole new wave of heat in his groin. Nathaniel wants him to ask for it, and it's a beautiful balance of control and giving up control.

Anders braces his heels on the bed while grabbing a pillow and sticking it under his ass, meeting Nate's eyes. "I want you to take me." And then, a little bit more of a risk, watching to make sure this isn't too crude or too far. "I want you to fuck me, Nathaniel."

That word. It's forbidden, the sort of thing he was never allowed to say even after hearing his father scream it behind closed doors. Ser Rodolphe hated it. His mother hated it. And it raises flame in Nathaniel's skin. His cock throbs, his fingers tremble as they circle Anders' entrance.

"Yes, that. Beg me for that. Beg me to fuck you." Saying the word brings a wicked grin to his face.

Oh. That's quite the grin, and it's like no expressions he's seen on Nathaniel's face before. The archer needs to have reasons for that look more often, Anders decides. It'll be a side project while they're all on the run... and it will bring back memories of this moment, too, fingers teasing without going in just yet.

Anders meets Nathaniel's eyes and licks his lips. "Please, Nathaniel. I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me, to push in, take me, have me, please." Sex is enjoyable normally, but making a game of it with someone he trusts is a true luxury. He sits up a little, reaching up to cup the back of Nate's head. "Fuck me."

This may well be the only time he gets laid by this man. Anders wants it to be memorable.

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