#m!andras

“How long have I been asleep?” She asked, the warmth from the blankets piled high a temptation hard to resist. She snuggled deeper, feeling his arms tighten around her in response. “I haven’t missed the war council, have I?”

Itharel’s lips formed into a grin though he tried to fight it, burying his face into the thick waves of her hair, lips trailing along the shell of her ear. “Of course not, my love.”

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, knowing he might not be lying, but he was certainly hiding something. “Is that so?” Nerys shifted her body to sitting, turning to face him with her legs tucked underneath her, his grip loosening to accommodate the new position. “Why do I feel as if you’re not being entirely truthful?”

Itharel leaned forward, trying to grasp her waist when she slipped out of his path, bare feet dancing across the floor towards the fireplace where he couldn’t grab her. 

Lifting a finger as if to scold him, Nerys tried not to laugh when all he did was smile. “You’re up to something.”

“All I want is to stay in bed with the Inquisitor. Is that so awful?” Itharel crawled to the edge of the bed, watching Nerys for any sign of sudden movement, like a cat stalking its prey. “Come back to bed.”

“No.” She said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest but refusing to take her eyes off of him. “I need to get ready to meet with Leliana and Cassandra.”

“Do you?”

Itharel placed a singular foot on the floorboards, each movement slow and deliberate. Neither of them were particularly sneaky but her love was nimble enough to catch her should he need to.

“Yes. I’m not here for fun, Itharel. I have a job to do.” 

“Certainly you’re owed a break.” Itharel’s other foot joined the first on the floor. Nerys noted he was still near the bed, but she didn’t trust where this was going. Some of his dark hair fell into his eyes and she had to resist reaching out to brush it back. “Maybe for a little longer.”

“Itharel-”

She’d barely gotten his name out of her mouth when he launched himself across the gap between them. 

With a squeal, she attempted to escape but wasn’t fast enough. Itharel’s arms snaked around her from behind, pulling her tightly against him and his lips found her exposed neck. Giggles erupted from her lips as he trailed kisses along her neck and across her shoulder, and Nerys couldn’t help when her body relaxed against his.

“You’re going to get me into trouble.” She scolded him softly as he moved his mouth to where her pulse beat steadily.

“How?” He paused his perusal, smirking against her skin. “Aren’t you the boss here?”

Nerys figured Cassandra might argue with her about who made what decisions concerning the Inquisition, but she doubted Itharel wanted to hear them. With a sigh, she relented, letting him guide her back to the warmth of the bed. The cold of the floorboards were starting to chill her skin, but she refused to make a fool of herself and dig herself a burrow out of the blankets.

“Fine, but if Cassandra comes looking for me, I’m blaming you.”

Itharel fell backwards into the bed, pulling her down with him into the softness, a laugh escaping his mouth as they landed amongst the blankets and pillows. “That’s a deal worth taking.”

The last time she’d seen him was before the Enclave. He hadn’t stayed long with Clan Lavellan, but the time they’d spent together was important to her. He was important to her. Itharel was compassionate, soft-spoken, kind. Their first meeting was forever imprinted on her soul, those beautiful eyes burned into her memories, the taste of his lips on hers, the feel of his callused hands on her skin… 

The letters they’d exchanged since had been few and far between, both being busy with their duties, but there wasn’t a day gone by where Nerys didn’t think of him.

And now he was here… 

A shiver wracked her again, and she whispered a spell, a flame catching in her outstretched palm, a flash of heat warming her chilled skin. Then she stepped forward into Itharel’s line of sight.

Another warden noticed her first, standing up immediately, pulling a dagger from his hip to defend himself if needed. “What brings you here, mage? We are not easy targets if you seek such a thing.”

Itharel blinked at her, a moment passing before recognition flickered in those hazel eyes. He stood as well, a hand held out to halt any violence from escalating. “I know her, Willem. Stand down.”

The human muttered something under his breath, eyes flicking between them, a brief hesitation before he sheathed the weapon, slowly returning to his seat with suspicion on his face. She might’ve been offended if her eyes weren’t only for Itharel.

“Aneth ara, Nerys. I assume you’re the Inquisitor Lavellan we were sent to meet.” Itharel mused, a smile twitching at his lips. With a shake of his head, he glanced up at the darkening sky, pondering it briefly before he finally met her gaze once more. “Strange how we’re always meeting at the end of the world.”

“Sadly, I fear this time, it might truly be the end.” Nerys felt the weighted stare of the others, knowing they couldn’t talk as freely with an audience. 

Itharel didn’t drop her gaze as he walked to the edge of the fire circle, nodding into the encroaching darkness which surrounded them. She didn’t need him to speak the invitation, extinguishing the fire in her hand and stepping around the other wardens. 

When they were a safe distance from the other wardens, Itharel turned to face her, a gentle expression turning his face softer than she’d ever remember seeing it before. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, feeling guilty for pulling him away from whatever mission he’d been on prior to her mess. The Blight… the Fade… it was all caught up together in whatever evil Corypheus was plotting. She needed the best at her side.

Itharel was more than the best to her, but the others did not need to know that.

“I didn’t want to bring you into this. I’m sorry-”

He stepped closer, his hand warm as it rested against her cheek, a distraction from whatever she’d been about to say. Even in the lack of illumination, Nerys read the determination in his eyes, those irises a color that reminded her of the forests she’d grown up in. The forests where they’d met all those years ago, a young man searching for his place in the world and a young woman with the weight of a Dalish clan forced upon her.

“Vhenan, no.” The endearment was a whispered prayer upon his lips, something unexpected and wholly welcome. Nerys forgot how much she missed him, how much she craved having the comfort of someone who understood the perils of being not only an elf in Thedas, but a mage as well. Her fingers curled into shirt, his warmth grounding her to solid ground even as her heart tried to fly like a bird, fluttering against her ribs like little wings. “All you have to do is call and I will answer.”

A vow she didn’t deserve, but she bit her lip, keeping her doubts at bay. Resting her hand flat against his chest, she could feel the steady beating of his heart beneath her palm. A heart she’d fight to protect from the evil pressing ever closer.

“If I’d known you were the Inquisitor, I would have come earlier. I could’ve-”

Nerys pressed a finger against his lips, halting his words. He raised his eyebrows at the touch, trying not to grin when she shifted closer, fingers tickling his cheek as they trailed from his face to his hair. His silky strands fell through her fingers, their warm breath intermingling between them.

“Your journey is as important as my own.” She told him, his lips lingering so close she could practically taste him. “I’m just grateful you are here now.”

Itharel’s hands came to rest on her hips, his grip firm yet gentle, like so many parts of him. “I’ll be here until you have no more use of me, vhenan.”

Nerys didn’t think there’d be a day when she wouldn’t desire his presence in her life. Words that she didn’t dare utter in the current circumstances of their lives, so instead of speaking, she pressed her lips to his waiting mouth, taking every piece of warmth he had to give, knowing their time might be cut short with this war. 

Itharel responded immediately, bringing her flush to his chest, the movement so sudden that she tightened her grip on his hair, forcing them so close she could feel his pulse pounding in time with hers. He filled her senses, the heat of his body a comfort as he pressed against her, the taste of the stew he’d eaten on his tongue. The Veil could be torn down around them, the world on the brink of the end, and she’d let it if only for another taste of him.

Love. 

The word whispered itself into her mind, a shadow that’d haunted her over the years, her feelings for this former blood mage only increasing with each fleeting kiss they shared, his gentleness a craving she couldn’t shake. Perhaps it was love, perhaps they would never know the true depths of their affection, but they had now and she wouldn’t waste it.

Itharel broke the kiss first, eyes shut as he pressed his forehead against hers, a gasped breath in the quite as he tried to regain his senses. “I will fight for you, vhenan. Whatever you need.”

Touching his cheek softly, she traced the veins in his skin, knowing he meant every word he uttered. “I need you with me, Itharel.”

A huffed laugh escaped him, warm breath ghosting across her lips. He pressed a kiss to her upturned nose, the action endearing. When he opened his hazel eyes, the intensity with which he looked at her nearly melted her into a puddle at his feet.