Strings Attached a There and Back Again StoryChapter 9 Nathaniel
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Leliana had been concerned about the brooding, dark-haired noble. At first, she’d worried Aedan, enraged, would put the man out of his misery, and then she’d worried that the smelly, injured, traumatised, damaged man they’d rescued would save Aedan the trouble and get himself killed by his father’s guards. He could barely walk – several badly healing broken bones had been set and mended by Anders, not to mention the dehydration, malnourishment, scrapes, bruises, and contusions his ruined...
He had dreaded telling his story, dreaded the inevitable revulsion he so richly deserved, especially when he finally opened his eyes and met her gaze. But what he was greeted with was not what he expected; he faced only sympathy and understanding, despite everything. Mixed with some pity, there was no way to hide that, but the overwhelming disgust he’d braced for never happened. Her reaction was the most surprising. She knew. She looked at him, had listened to him, seen right through him,...
Nathaniel woke slowly, his mind foggy, his head aching and his stomach roiling. Really, he thought it should be much worse – he’d started drinking early, and while he didn’t remember how much he’d had to drink, his actions the previous evening indicated that he should have stopped much sooner than he had. Given that he’d apparently drunk until enraged, then pathetic and sloppy, and then blacked out, he was surprised he wasn’t feeling more ill – he would have expected to spend the day with his...
Her assignment as a messenger shouldn’t have been a surprise, but as she galloped through the rain between one army encampment and another, she cursed the luck that had made her one of the few fast riders the army had access to. The mages had been training – there were now a handful with the ability to shape-change into a bird – but that didn’t negate the need for horseback messengers, especially when it came to communications with the Chantry, who none of the Dalish mages would approach...
Nathaniel watched the bard surreptitiously through half-closed eyes, forcing himself to focus on her face, and not the long expanse of pale skin on perfectly formed legs that he’d been unable to avoid noticing in the night. It was clear from her frenzied movements and her quick, shallow breaths that she was anxious, and he couldn’t blame her – when he’d asked to have Leliana directed to his tent once she’d arrived, he hadn’t expected to find her undressed and dead to the world in his own...
Leliana had almost managed to resign herself that her – increasingly ardent – fantasies were just that: fantasy, and pure fiction. Nathaniel had shown no sign of wanting more, and as she kept reminding herself, he was a Fereldan Arl – he was never going to choose her, even if he was interested. And he’d made no overt moves to show that he was interested in her; he’d been friendly, and he still watched her the way Alistair looked at cheese, but he’d done nothing else. But it was only ‘almost’...
If he hadn’t been turning to look at her, Leliana knew, he would not have missed the pack of Blight wolves that suddenly appeared in their path – and he’d never have fallen off his horse. He’d shown himself to be a good horseman, and she was experienced enough to know from his stance that he was probably better than she’d seen so far. But he’d had his mouth open, his eyes wide, and he hadn’t known the wolves were there until he’d been airborne. She thought she’d probably always feel a little...
Nathaniel woke with a terrible but familiar taste in his mouth: elfroot. His head ached worse than the worst hangover he’d ever had, and he tried to think back to what he might have been drinking that would have affected him like this. He gradually became aware of the rest of his body, as he thought; his leg was sore, the ribs on one side felt bruised, and he was almost unbearably cold – and slightly damp. It was this last that convinced him to do something despite the pounding in his head;...
She giggled and turned her head, lashing him with her damp hair, and he sputtered while she laughed. When she settled back down, she tilted her head back until he could press his forehead against her skull, his breath ruffling her hair. His heart was in his throat, and he felt deliriously short of breath. “Leliana?” “Yes, Nathaniel?” He could feel the vibration caused by her voice against his forehead, and he closed his eyes as he inhaled, her scent somehow exotic despite the undertones of...
When she finally pulled away, panting, Leliana’s lips were tender and swollen from kissing, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck as he adjusted his position and wrapped both arms around her again. She was surprisingly comfortable, his strong arms cradling her against his chest and sharing his warmth. She was still cold, not that she’d paid any attention to that recently, and he shuddered as her cold nose pressed against his skin. He was an incredible kisser, she had to admit –...
He watched her sleep for hours, in the end, reluctant to wake her after everything she’d been through during the day. She slept with her mouth slightly open, her face looking younger when slack, and he’d contented himself to hold her, shifting his grip periodically to avoid cramping up – and to make sure he warmed all of her as much as he could. He hadn’t been joking when he said she’d saved his life; he’d seen what happened to people who’d been bitten by Blight wolves, and it wasn’t pretty....
The morning dawned sunny, for the first time in forever. Leliana woke, still wrapped in Nathaniel’s arms, finally starting to warm up as warm sunlight shone through the cave’s opening. She heard snoring, and realised that the handsome archer must have finally fallen asleep. She blushed when she remembered the night they’d spent, the kissing…Andraste preserve, had she actually bit him? She rolled her eyes at her own impulsive antics. She sat up carefully to look down on the nobleman,...
Now she’d managed to distract him with imagining their first time – and the second, and the third, preferably all in the same night. They’d both laughed uncomfortably, and then avoided eye contact as they’d extracted themselves from the rather intimate embrace they’d found themselves in. Getting dressed had been somewhat awkward; there was little room inside the tiny cave, so they nearly couldn’t avoid accidentally bumping into each other as they attempted to don their respective armour....
Returning to camp took less time than Leliana would have liked; they were discovered by a patrol after they’d walked only a few minutes on the trail where they’d been ambushed. King Cailan had noted that they – or really, Nathaniel – was missing and had sent out search parties at sunrise. As the patrol hadn’t realised they would find Leliana with their missing Arl, they’d only brought one spare mount, but neither archer could bring themselves to complain about sharing. As they rode,...
The whole thing had gotten completely out of hand. Nathaniel sighed and tried to object for what had to be the fiftieth time since this plan had been suggested. “It’s simply too dangerous, Leliana. I won’t allow you – or anyone else – to be hurt in my stead. This is my problem—” “And this is how you’re going to solve it, yes? You’re going to get help from others who have more specific experience in this area.” He turned to the King, hoping for some support. “Your Majesty, surely you don’t...
Leliana yawned, fighting the urge to stretch. Unlike Zevran, she’d never trained for stealth or ambush; her strengths ran to seduction and manipulation. She’d never practiced lying in wait, motionless, for a target. But there was no one else she’d trust to do this, no one with her aim – or her motivation to do the job well. So she stifled a sigh and remained still, watching over the darkened camp like a hawk. She was grateful for Anders; he’d known a spell to temporarily sharpen her vision,...
Nate’s smile fell, his hands clasping into fists at his side. “Maker take me, we had him. If I wasn’t such a blighted idiot...” Leliana turned to him, her smile sympathetic. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known—” “You did.” Nate sighed. “I’ll bet you all did. And I’ve just ruined any hope of pinning this on Esmerelle.” “He wouldn’t have talked.” The Antivan seemed completely confident in his assessment. “I know the type. Anyone willing to poison themselves to avoid capture...
She made a small, pleased sound when their tongues touched, and he swallowed her gasp as he nipped at her lips. Before she realised what had happened, she found herself sprawled across his chest, her knees on either side of his hips, as he laid back unceremoniously in the middle of the tent. They kissed for an eternity, lips sliding deliciously against each other, their breath intermingling. He was a good kisser, not too aggressive, but nicely assertive, his tongue teasing hers, his breath...
He sighed. Any other time the woman had asked him to take his clothes off, he’d have been thrilled. However, she’d made it quite clear that nothing was going to happen that night, and as he got a whiff of the alcoholic stench coming off his clothes – to both disguise the liquor he hadn’t drunk, and also hide the fact that his breath didn’t smell very strongly – he admitted she was probably wise to decline. But now he was supposed to shuck his trousers so she could inspect his bare skin –...
He was gone in the morning when she woke, but he’d left a piece of parchment with a note scrawled across it in hasty handwriting: Your route is being handled by another scout for the day. I thought you could use some rest. I hope to see you tonight. She sighed and stretched. She could admit she had been looking forward to waking up together but knew Nathaniel would be eager to report back to Cailan. It left her with a day to herself – a rare luxury – and she was determined not to waste it....
She led him through the tree the way she’d come, to another, smaller clearing just out of line of sight. She had laid everything out already – two tarps for standing on, one already wet and one dry except for a few small, damp footprints; a clean towel; soap and shampoo, the scents he favoured; a blade to use as a straight razor; and a pile of new, clean clothes that had been harder to obtain than she’d admit. She turned to face him from the edge of the tarp and held out her free hand,...
After an eternity of lavishing attention on her neck, her ears, and the delightful dip between her collar bones, he returned to her lips, gentling the kiss until he pulled away, touching his forehead to hers instead. He rolled to one side, propping himself on one elbow to look down at her, running his hand from her shoulder, down her arm, until he found her hand, loosely draped across her belly. “Lel—” Whatever he’d planned to say was interrupted by the noisy grumbling of her stomach, and...
Sneaking back to her tent was a simple matter. Nathaniel had demonstrated his abilities back in Denerim, and he’d been half-starved and weakened from weeks of torture at the time. Now only her own, considerable skills even allowed her to follow him when he disappeared into the shadows of the darkened camp. It would have been even easier, if not for the slight shaking in her hands, and the queasy sort of quaking in her stomach. It had been a long time since she’d had nerves related to going to...
He released her arms with a huff, unable to keep the serious frown on his face. Leliana had a gift – one of many, he admitted – for making him laugh, something no one had really been able to do in years. It felt good, even if it was entirely inappropriate in the middle of an intimate ... interlude. It wasn’t better that he was half-naked and more than half-hard from the sinful feeling of her hands on his skin. He’d let her take the lead at every step so far in their relationship, terrified...
She thought she would lose her mind; he’d played with her body, driving her mad with teasing licks and touches for what felt like hours, until she couldn’t take it anymore. He’d reclaimed her free hand, so she could do nothing but wriggle and pant under his talented lips and fingers. “Nathaniel, please!” she gasped, and finally – finally! – she felt his hand creeping lower, across her smooth stomach to the gap between her thighs. He paused to stroke over her mound, stirring the hairs there...
Finally buried inside her, the heat and damp of her, like a tight velvet glove, was nearly his undoing. He clenched his hands, his nails digging into his palms painfully, as he struggled to think of something – anything – else to distract him from his imminent need. And then she moved, rising up slowly and slamming back down until her skin impacted against his thighs, and he almost shouted. The woman he’d been dreaming of for months was in his lap, making love to him, and he was about to...
“Nathaniel,” she sighed, her tone embarrassingly breathy. She was overwrought, her aching muscles clenching every time she touched herself, every time he buried himself inside her; she didn’t think she could firm up her voice if her life depended on it. It was too much, but at the same time it was too good to stop – she never wanted him to stop. This was her punishment, she was sure of it. He was trying to pleasure her until she gave out. And as much as they’d both been joking about the...
She kissed him one more time, her heart feeling like it was overflowing. Things had moved so fast, but the only thing she regretted was that they’d waited so long. He was everything she had expected – methodical, deliberate, passionate – and so much more. She was anxious for the future; it was easy to say they didn’t care what others thought, and yet harder to live by – and they both had responsibilities. But she’d decided she’d cross those bridges when she came to them. The Maker had...
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