IRC Pairings: Branka/Hespith
There's no Alistair in this, but it stemmed from the chatroom giving me a list of pairings to smut.
Title: Torchlight
Pairing: Branka/Hespith
Rating: M NSFW
Word Count: 488 (Dwarf smut is short!)
It was nearly always dark in the Deep Roads, the only light came from the occasional veins of lyrium. There would have been light from the many torches of the dwarves, but they were now all dead, sacrificed in the name of Branka. Hespith tried to keep the remaining torches alight, here in the depths of the earth, in the Dead Trenches. The light was a civilised thing, it helped her remain dwarven.
She would not turn, not even for Branka. Branka, who had slipped each and every finger inside her and made a fist. Branka, who had entwined her body around her own, seeking nothing but pleasure. Branka, who had slain her with betrayal.
The taint had made fragments of her memories, but the knowledge of what had been done to her would not vanish. A betrayal of love and trust that was seared into her mind. And she remembered the last time Branka had been her lover, when there was nothing within her but the anvil.
Branka had kissed her, but Hespith could tell her mind was elsewhere. Her strong smith's hands were calloused and rough, but Hespith had always liked the feel of them on her flesh before. But now her caresses were hurried, with none of her usual passion and tenderness.
"What's wrong, love?" Hespith whispered.
"It should be mine by now," Branka said, "instead we waste our time on meaningless engagements."
"Meaningless?" Hespith said, covering her bare breasts with her hands.
"There is always time for sex, every moment that passes while I do not possess the anvil means our legacy fades further. Only the anvil can return us to the glory of our ancestors. Only the anvil matters."
"Only the anvil? Nothing more?"
Branka's hands were suddenly upon her breasts again, the rough skin against her tender nipples sent a rush of sensation through her small body. "The Anvil is all that matters," Branka said, pinching one of Hespith's nipples cruelly. Hespith cried out in sudden pain but Branka silence her with a kiss that was fierce. Her hands slid lower, rough fingers probing between soft wet female flesh.
"Flesh is fleeting, only the stone endures" Branka said, slipping her fingers inside Hespith. But there was no love in her touch, her fingers scraped cruelly. Hespith cried out again as Branka made a fist inside her, stretching her tortured flesh painfully. She lost herself in the pain and pleasure that Branka forced upon her.
Forced to live upon the flesh of the darkspawn dead, Hespith had coped by going completely and utterly mad. She wondered sometimes if her memories of Branka's cruel and disinterested loving was simply a product of her fractured mind. Mad and betrayed, her heart bleeding from the loss, Hespith endured.
And she always made sure to tend the torches, keeping the dark at bay even as it consumed her, but she would not turn, she would die first.
Title: Torchlight
Pairing: Branka/Hespith
Rating: M NSFW
Word Count: 488 (Dwarf smut is short!)
It was nearly always dark in the Deep Roads, the only light came from the occasional veins of lyrium. There would have been light from the many torches of the dwarves, but they were now all dead, sacrificed in the name of Branka. Hespith tried to keep the remaining torches alight, here in the depths of the earth, in the Dead Trenches. The light was a civilised thing, it helped her remain dwarven.
She would not turn, not even for Branka. Branka, who had slipped each and every finger inside her and made a fist. Branka, who had entwined her body around her own, seeking nothing but pleasure. Branka, who had slain her with betrayal.
The taint had made fragments of her memories, but the knowledge of what had been done to her would not vanish. A betrayal of love and trust that was seared into her mind. And she remembered the last time Branka had been her lover, when there was nothing within her but the anvil.
Branka had kissed her, but Hespith could tell her mind was elsewhere. Her strong smith's hands were calloused and rough, but Hespith had always liked the feel of them on her flesh before. But now her caresses were hurried, with none of her usual passion and tenderness.
"What's wrong, love?" Hespith whispered.
"It should be mine by now," Branka said, "instead we waste our time on meaningless engagements."
"Meaningless?" Hespith said, covering her bare breasts with her hands.
"There is always time for sex, every moment that passes while I do not possess the anvil means our legacy fades further. Only the anvil can return us to the glory of our ancestors. Only the anvil matters."
"Only the anvil? Nothing more?"
Branka's hands were suddenly upon her breasts again, the rough skin against her tender nipples sent a rush of sensation through her small body. "The Anvil is all that matters," Branka said, pinching one of Hespith's nipples cruelly. Hespith cried out in sudden pain but Branka silence her with a kiss that was fierce. Her hands slid lower, rough fingers probing between soft wet female flesh.
"Flesh is fleeting, only the stone endures" Branka said, slipping her fingers inside Hespith. But there was no love in her touch, her fingers scraped cruelly. Hespith cried out again as Branka made a fist inside her, stretching her tortured flesh painfully. She lost herself in the pain and pleasure that Branka forced upon her.
Forced to live upon the flesh of the darkspawn dead, Hespith had coped by going completely and utterly mad. She wondered sometimes if her memories of Branka's cruel and disinterested loving was simply a product of her fractured mind. Mad and betrayed, her heart bleeding from the loss, Hespith endured.
And she always made sure to tend the torches, keeping the dark at bay even as it consumed her, but she would not turn, she would die first.