a midwinter addendum
So, to summarize: tahara_l has been posting art today. The initial drawing was more than enough to get everyone going, but then she added a shirtless drawing of Markham. Somewhere in the midst of all this, w0rdinista and I, and pretty much everyone else in the thread, went off on... tangents. Ideas were bandied about. Dialogue exchanges began.
And I fulfilled a fic prompt, which, well, what the hell... I'll repost it here. Apologies for lack of Alistair, etc. Also, for sanity's sake, consider it an AU, especially as w0rdinista had no part in this madness -- and for my sanity's sake, no more asking me for fic prompts. *laugh* But I got MYSELF into this one, so all bets were off...
Tahara's prompt: Hmmm, rogue skills. And Elinora....
Perrin is still young-ish and attempting to sneak into the larder to pilfer some of the imported Orlesian sweets that have just arrived as a present to the new Teyrna. He is so lost in the choices, he doesn't hear Elinora come in. GO!
In which Page loses her marbles. High T rating, Midwinter's Thaw-verse, longer than it has any right or reason to be:
---
Appetites. Dangerous things, those. Perrin knew better, clearly he did -- he prided himself on his self-restraint -- but occasionally there were situations that could try any young man's patience.
It didn't help when they came coupled with wounded pride, and the excitement of a dare. His resistance was being sorely tried.
Markham's bet was that he wasn't good enough yet at lockpicking to get into the larder. Perrin, peeved at the insinuation, declared that he could. Markham upped the ante by declaring that he had to bring back proof: not just food he could nick from anywhere, but one of the special Orlesian chocolates they knew the teyrna had just been sent. "She doesn't have that much of a sweet tooth," Markham said. "She wouldn't notice if one went missing."
Perrin, certain that his friend was insane and this would clearly end in tears, nevertheless agreed. He had his reputation to uphold here, after all.
And so it was that he found himself picking the ridiculously complicated lock on the castle larder, praying he wouldn't get caught.
This is ridiculous, he thought, even as the clicking inner mechanisms aligned and popped open with ease. Why do I have to prove this to him? I know well enough what I'm doing, and yet here I am, stealing expensive imported goods from the teyrna's private stash -- not that she even likes chocolate all that well, crazy woman, but still--
He ducked inside, spying the box right away on a nearby shelf.
The lock, it turned out, was simple. Extracting a single truffle from the box without making inordinate amounts of noise -- all that rustling paper; surely it was excessive? -- or ending up with chocolate-smudged fingers was another challenge entirely. Perrin uneasily tipped one chocolate into his hand, then absently licked the smudge off the fingers of the other.
…and oh, bugger.
This was the good stuff, he thought with a wistful sigh. Expensive, indeed. Rich. Creamy. Wasted on someone who barely even appreciated it, not that he'd ever say as much to Lady Elinora's face. He found himself wondering for a mad moment if she'd miss two….
"Ser Perrin? Come to… survey the stock, have you?"
The voice made him spin around in utter shock. Standing behind him was none other than Lady Elinora herself, looking just as comfortable sneaking about in the dark as any rogue, and who was wearing quite the smirk indeed as she swung the door shut behind them. Perrin swallowed hard.
Markham, he thought, is going to die laughing when he hears of how I met my fate in here….
"I'm… I'm sorry, my lady," he said, confessing up front, as there seemed little other escape. "I lost my head. I was fulfilling a dare."
"To steal chocolates? Interesting choice. Is there a young woman I should know about?"
"Markham, actually."
She raised an eyebrow. Perrin groaned.
"Not like that, my lady," he said.
"Good. I'd be quite disappointed otherwise."
"Ah. I --" He blanked out on how to reply, exactly. Her phrasing had been --
Really, what had she just said?
"My lady, I really must apologize properly," he said. "I have less than no business sneaking in like this, let alone -- stealing --"
She plucked the offending chocolate from his hand and took a bite.
"Mmh," she said, after a thoughtful moment. "You know, this isn't bad. So many people make these too sweet, but the balance of flavors here is excellent -- here. Try it."
Perrin found himself startled beyond measure as the Lady Elinora, Teyrna of Highever, Grey Warden and hero, eminently his superior, offered him the truffle, with that damnable smirk still on her lips.
"You got yourself into this," she reminded him, her voice dropping lower. "Do humor me."
He gingerly took the bitten chocolate from her fingers and tried it.
He had to admit, she was right. The smooth texture, sweet and rich on his tongue -- the undercurrent of hidden spices -- the touch of what he was certain was something alcoholic and quite, quite expensive -- this was excellent. He swallowed slowly, licking his fingers clean again out of pure habit, not to mention that he simply couldn't let it go to waste.
Elinora watched him.
Partway through the move, with his fingers still slowly withdrawing from his lips, he realized where those bright eyes of hers were trained. He swallowed again, much harder. Between the chocolate and the stare, his thoughts were going somewhere completely insane, and reckless, and completely inappropriate for his station, or anything, really--
None of which explained why she was slowly backing him up against the shelves.
"I can't abide thefts in my castle, Ser Perrin," she said, her voice level and calm. "Especialy not from my own people, and those who are ordinarily so noble and honorable and aware of these rules. I"m surprised at you."
He flushed. "I know. It was a -- passing weakness, just a…."
"Rash act to impress your friends, yes." She put one hand to a shelf beside his head. "Foolish. Impulsive. Almost understandable, but I can't have it happen again. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, my lady."
"But. The other important thing here -- if I hadn't happened to be in the hallway, which you should have noticed, incidentally… I would have missed your handiwork entirely, I'm certain. That was good work with the locks." She leaned in closer. "Just how did you get that good with lockpicking?"
He licked his lips. Probably another mistake. He caught a trace of rich flavor at one corner of his mouth; Elinora's gaze followed as he involuntarily chased down all traces. "Natural talent, my lady. I've practiced on my own time, but… it always seemed easy."
"Practiced on what?" She smiled again, very slowly. "Should I worry about you creeping into my chambers at night?"
"I." He blushed harder. "My lady--"
"I'm being inappropriate myself, I know," she said. Her smile turned wry. "I might have been having a terrible day. There might have been wine involved. Do you know why I'm confessing this, ser?"
"No…."
"Because I'm certain we will both be regretting our actions here in the morning," she said, her voice low and throaty. "But by the same token, we both have our excuses. So perhaps we should enjoy the moment and then agree to let it go once we're done?"
"Once -- we're done?"
Elinora gave him another mysterious smile and closed the last remaining gap between them.
The kiss was soft and wild, tasting of wine indeed, something rich and full and heady, something that mixed with the chocolate still on his tongue and the taste of her and the crazed impossibility of this moment: the teyrna, dressed in what felt suddenly like very, very little at all (nightclothes, it must have been -- they felt so soft under his fingertips), pressing warmly against him and sighing into his mouth….
I've gone mad, Perrin thought. There really was something in that chocolate. Poison, maybe. Hallucinatory… poisonous… chocolate. The Orlesians are trying to kill her. I'll fall victim to it first and my poor, sad form will be found crumpled here in the morning, tragic really, but at least I'll have rescued the teyrna in my moment of stupidity and indiscretion, so not all is lost….
Her fingers crept lower on his body, slowly teasing a gasp out of him.
Indiscretions. Dear sweet Andraste.
Well, she had a bite first….
He let his hands slide around her waist, tugging her just a little closer as her hips made a slow, lazy rotation.
We're both doomed.
Eventually, after a long, sweet slide of her tongue against his, Elinora drew back. She was still smiling, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed, and her left hand was still making little circles on his skin (and how, dear Maker, had his shirt become untucked like that?).
"And now I'm going to leave," she said, "before anything completely inappropriate happens."
"I--"
"But consider yourself reprimanded," she said softly. "And I think you should have a long, hard thought" -- her eyes flicked over him, quite deliberately -- "about stealing anything from me in the future."
"Yes, my lady," he said hoarsely.
She withdrew, leaving him feeling quite breathless and bereft, not to mention rather foolish, and certain he looked ridiculous. He was going to need to take a moment to calm down, or Markham was going to--
Oh, Andraste's flaming sword, what is Markham going to say--
"You can take one as proof, if you must," Elinora said. "Really, you could have asked."
"Would have… defeated the point, my lady," he said.
She smirked again. "Indeed," she said, and went for the door. "And by the way. What I said about thinking hard about stealing?"
He stared.
"There's another stash in my study," she said.
If he weren't mistaken, she actually winked as she left.
And when he finally caught up with Markham a few minutes later to deposit the ill-gotten chocolate into his friend's lap, and Markham asked how it had gone -- he found himself smirking, too, and didn't say a single word.
And I fulfilled a fic prompt, which, well, what the hell... I'll repost it here. Apologies for lack of Alistair, etc. Also, for sanity's sake, consider it an AU, especially as w0rdinista had no part in this madness -- and for my sanity's sake, no more asking me for fic prompts. *laugh* But I got MYSELF into this one, so all bets were off...
Tahara's prompt: Hmmm, rogue skills. And Elinora....
Perrin is still young-ish and attempting to sneak into the larder to pilfer some of the imported Orlesian sweets that have just arrived as a present to the new Teyrna. He is so lost in the choices, he doesn't hear Elinora come in. GO!
In which Page loses her marbles. High T rating, Midwinter's Thaw-verse, longer than it has any right or reason to be:
---
Appetites. Dangerous things, those. Perrin knew better, clearly he did -- he prided himself on his self-restraint -- but occasionally there were situations that could try any young man's patience.
It didn't help when they came coupled with wounded pride, and the excitement of a dare. His resistance was being sorely tried.
Markham's bet was that he wasn't good enough yet at lockpicking to get into the larder. Perrin, peeved at the insinuation, declared that he could. Markham upped the ante by declaring that he had to bring back proof: not just food he could nick from anywhere, but one of the special Orlesian chocolates they knew the teyrna had just been sent. "She doesn't have that much of a sweet tooth," Markham said. "She wouldn't notice if one went missing."
Perrin, certain that his friend was insane and this would clearly end in tears, nevertheless agreed. He had his reputation to uphold here, after all.
And so it was that he found himself picking the ridiculously complicated lock on the castle larder, praying he wouldn't get caught.
This is ridiculous, he thought, even as the clicking inner mechanisms aligned and popped open with ease. Why do I have to prove this to him? I know well enough what I'm doing, and yet here I am, stealing expensive imported goods from the teyrna's private stash -- not that she even likes chocolate all that well, crazy woman, but still--
He ducked inside, spying the box right away on a nearby shelf.
The lock, it turned out, was simple. Extracting a single truffle from the box without making inordinate amounts of noise -- all that rustling paper; surely it was excessive? -- or ending up with chocolate-smudged fingers was another challenge entirely. Perrin uneasily tipped one chocolate into his hand, then absently licked the smudge off the fingers of the other.
…and oh, bugger.
This was the good stuff, he thought with a wistful sigh. Expensive, indeed. Rich. Creamy. Wasted on someone who barely even appreciated it, not that he'd ever say as much to Lady Elinora's face. He found himself wondering for a mad moment if she'd miss two….
"Ser Perrin? Come to… survey the stock, have you?"
The voice made him spin around in utter shock. Standing behind him was none other than Lady Elinora herself, looking just as comfortable sneaking about in the dark as any rogue, and who was wearing quite the smirk indeed as she swung the door shut behind them. Perrin swallowed hard.
Markham, he thought, is going to die laughing when he hears of how I met my fate in here….
"I'm… I'm sorry, my lady," he said, confessing up front, as there seemed little other escape. "I lost my head. I was fulfilling a dare."
"To steal chocolates? Interesting choice. Is there a young woman I should know about?"
"Markham, actually."
She raised an eyebrow. Perrin groaned.
"Not like that, my lady," he said.
"Good. I'd be quite disappointed otherwise."
"Ah. I --" He blanked out on how to reply, exactly. Her phrasing had been --
Really, what had she just said?
"My lady, I really must apologize properly," he said. "I have less than no business sneaking in like this, let alone -- stealing --"
She plucked the offending chocolate from his hand and took a bite.
"Mmh," she said, after a thoughtful moment. "You know, this isn't bad. So many people make these too sweet, but the balance of flavors here is excellent -- here. Try it."
Perrin found himself startled beyond measure as the Lady Elinora, Teyrna of Highever, Grey Warden and hero, eminently his superior, offered him the truffle, with that damnable smirk still on her lips.
"You got yourself into this," she reminded him, her voice dropping lower. "Do humor me."
He gingerly took the bitten chocolate from her fingers and tried it.
He had to admit, she was right. The smooth texture, sweet and rich on his tongue -- the undercurrent of hidden spices -- the touch of what he was certain was something alcoholic and quite, quite expensive -- this was excellent. He swallowed slowly, licking his fingers clean again out of pure habit, not to mention that he simply couldn't let it go to waste.
Elinora watched him.
Partway through the move, with his fingers still slowly withdrawing from his lips, he realized where those bright eyes of hers were trained. He swallowed again, much harder. Between the chocolate and the stare, his thoughts were going somewhere completely insane, and reckless, and completely inappropriate for his station, or anything, really--
None of which explained why she was slowly backing him up against the shelves.
"I can't abide thefts in my castle, Ser Perrin," she said, her voice level and calm. "Especialy not from my own people, and those who are ordinarily so noble and honorable and aware of these rules. I"m surprised at you."
He flushed. "I know. It was a -- passing weakness, just a…."
"Rash act to impress your friends, yes." She put one hand to a shelf beside his head. "Foolish. Impulsive. Almost understandable, but I can't have it happen again. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, my lady."
"But. The other important thing here -- if I hadn't happened to be in the hallway, which you should have noticed, incidentally… I would have missed your handiwork entirely, I'm certain. That was good work with the locks." She leaned in closer. "Just how did you get that good with lockpicking?"
He licked his lips. Probably another mistake. He caught a trace of rich flavor at one corner of his mouth; Elinora's gaze followed as he involuntarily chased down all traces. "Natural talent, my lady. I've practiced on my own time, but… it always seemed easy."
"Practiced on what?" She smiled again, very slowly. "Should I worry about you creeping into my chambers at night?"
"I." He blushed harder. "My lady--"
"I'm being inappropriate myself, I know," she said. Her smile turned wry. "I might have been having a terrible day. There might have been wine involved. Do you know why I'm confessing this, ser?"
"No…."
"Because I'm certain we will both be regretting our actions here in the morning," she said, her voice low and throaty. "But by the same token, we both have our excuses. So perhaps we should enjoy the moment and then agree to let it go once we're done?"
"Once -- we're done?"
Elinora gave him another mysterious smile and closed the last remaining gap between them.
The kiss was soft and wild, tasting of wine indeed, something rich and full and heady, something that mixed with the chocolate still on his tongue and the taste of her and the crazed impossibility of this moment: the teyrna, dressed in what felt suddenly like very, very little at all (nightclothes, it must have been -- they felt so soft under his fingertips), pressing warmly against him and sighing into his mouth….
I've gone mad, Perrin thought. There really was something in that chocolate. Poison, maybe. Hallucinatory… poisonous… chocolate. The Orlesians are trying to kill her. I'll fall victim to it first and my poor, sad form will be found crumpled here in the morning, tragic really, but at least I'll have rescued the teyrna in my moment of stupidity and indiscretion, so not all is lost….
Her fingers crept lower on his body, slowly teasing a gasp out of him.
Indiscretions. Dear sweet Andraste.
Well, she had a bite first….
He let his hands slide around her waist, tugging her just a little closer as her hips made a slow, lazy rotation.
We're both doomed.
Eventually, after a long, sweet slide of her tongue against his, Elinora drew back. She was still smiling, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed, and her left hand was still making little circles on his skin (and how, dear Maker, had his shirt become untucked like that?).
"And now I'm going to leave," she said, "before anything completely inappropriate happens."
"I--"
"But consider yourself reprimanded," she said softly. "And I think you should have a long, hard thought" -- her eyes flicked over him, quite deliberately -- "about stealing anything from me in the future."
"Yes, my lady," he said hoarsely.
She withdrew, leaving him feeling quite breathless and bereft, not to mention rather foolish, and certain he looked ridiculous. He was going to need to take a moment to calm down, or Markham was going to--
Oh, Andraste's flaming sword, what is Markham going to say--
"You can take one as proof, if you must," Elinora said. "Really, you could have asked."
"Would have… defeated the point, my lady," he said.
She smirked again. "Indeed," she said, and went for the door. "And by the way. What I said about thinking hard about stealing?"
He stared.
"There's another stash in my study," she said.
If he weren't mistaken, she actually winked as she left.
And when he finally caught up with Markham a few minutes later to deposit the ill-gotten chocolate into his friend's lap, and Markham asked how it had gone -- he found himself smirking, too, and didn't say a single word.