Day 10- Nanny!AU/Dragon Age Crossover Darcy/Steve Rated M
Day 10
Nanny AU- Dragon Age Crossover
Darcy/Steve
Rated M
The Planasene Forest 9:27 Dragon
“Darciel, lethallan, you are not paying attention again.”
Darciel snapped her eyes back to Keeper Mhelen, whom she was supposed to be learning from about the tales of Elvhenan . “Sorry, Keeper. It won’t happen again.”
“Do not make promises you cannot keep, child. I fear your inattention only grows with each passing day.” The Keeper let out an audible sigh. “Perhaps we should suspend your lessons until you can deal with source of your distraction.”
The apprentice cringed as her master’s eyes moved pointedly across the glade to the figure that kept drawing his student’s focus. “I- I suppose I should spend more time in meditation to clear my mind…” Darciel hedged. The truth was, she’d spent hours upon hours in mediation trying to get Hahren Stevhen out of her mind.
“Might I suggest an alternate solution?”
Surprise registered on Darciel’s face. “What do you mean?”
“Have you considered,” he began, clasping his hands in his lap and tilting his head with fond exasperation, “talking to Hahren Stevhen?”
The young Dalish woman groaned and lifted her hands to her face and groaned. “That’s just it, Keeper,” the words were muffled behind her palms. “He’s a Hahren, an elder of the clan, what could I possibly have to offer him? He must think me a silly child.”
The elderly Keeper hummed in sympathy and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. “I think, perhaps, you underestimate your unique perspective.”
“How’s that?” she asked while peaking between her fingers.
“Well, you know of his unique situation, yes?”
“You mean the fact that he is cursed never to age or grow old and die?” Darciel’s interest in the Hahren, and her desire to know more about him meant the Keeper held her attention in a way he hadn’t for weeks.
“That is at the heart of his story, yes, but have you heard much of his life over the centuries, or stopped to consider how his curse must have affected his place in the world?
Darciel drew her brow down as she considered “I was told of the curse when I first became a part of this clan, but other than that, I know only that he is more wise and kind and good than anyone I have ever met.”
Mhelen chuckled at her love struck tone and a small smile creased the corner of his eyes. “That is due in large part to his living for so long and having such a wealth of experiences to draw on. It is a natural consequence of age, to learn and grow and settle, which is why the Dalish clans are lead by a collection of elders, and not left to the eager whims and imperfect understanding of the young. It is usually accompanied by the maturing of the flesh and the cooling of those passions, however. I think it is not his wisdom and kindness that continues to draw your eye.”
The woman blushed and looked down at her hands. “It is sometimes difficult to remember that he is so very old when he does not look it,” she admitted, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at discussing such things with the elderly Keeper.
“Yes, well, that is due in large part to the fact that you did not join our clan until later in your life. If you had been raised with us from birth and grown up listening to the stories of our people at his knee, it would be easier for you, as it is for the other young women of the clan.”
She let her eyes wander back over to where the elven man sat, his hands waving animatedly as he performed one tale or another to the children gathered at his feet, looking up at him with rapt expressions on their faces. That would explain why the other girls had looked at her strangely when she’d spoken of her admiration for his fine form. To them he was not a man, not really, he was simply Hahren Stevhen, their elder and teacher for as long as they could remember, and he always would be.
The Keeper left her to her thoughts for another minute before he continued. “That is a path that runs both ways, child,” he said simply, his voice trying to convey an idea that she failed to grasp.
Seeing her confusion as she turned her face back to him, he took a deep breath and decided to change his tactic. “When he was truly young, before he was cursed, Stevhen was bonded to a young Dalish woman. Her name was Margren, and it is said she was lovely and fierce, a hunter of the highest caliber. Their bond was strong and flourished, even after he came under the curse, and they lived happily for many years. While he stayed as stalwart and as fresh faced as ever, she aged, and grew old. When she finally passed into the Beyond it is said he was devastated. Tales of his grief and woe are legendary amongst our clan, though we do our best not to speak of such things in his presence, of course.”
“Oh course,” Darciel said wryly, sure that more than one child had probably broached the subject out of ignorance or childish malice. She felt overcome with emotion as she imagined the sense of loss and pain that Stevhen must have suffered when his bond mate had died. She wanted to hold him and shower him with love and comfort so that he would never again feel such anguish.
“It is thought that only his position as Hahren and the sense of duty and purpose he received from being a valued member of the clan were the only things that kept him from wandering into the forest, or seeking to end his own life. He grieved for a time and then as time went on, he was able to heal and grow strong again. By that time, however, he was in the very peculiar position that he remains in today.”
“What position is that?” Darciel questioned, though she was beginning to see what it was the Keeper was trying to explain.
“All the women he had known in his youth were either very old, or dead, and all the young, un-bonded women of the clan were girls he had known and helped raise from their infancy. The descendants of the clan and their descendants after them, each and every generation he has had a hand in raising, as if they were his own children. You can see how this might make it hard for him to form… romantic attachments to anyone new.”
She nodded, her eyes again falling on the man in question as she watched him stand and re-enact one of the livelier stories. Her eyes took in his perfect frame, tall for a Dalish, taller even than some Shemlan men she had seen, with well-formed muscles that flexed and rolled under his tunic and vest in such a pleasing way. She watched as the dappled sunlight caught on his pale, silken hair and seemed to shimmer with gold before her gaze. His eyes, she could not see from such a distance, but she could imagine the way they danced with playful excitement as he enacted his tale, brilliant and blue as the cornflowers that bloomed in the forest meadows. He made the butterflies in her stomach swarm and flutter every time she laid eyes on him.
“So-“ she began, her voice painted with shades of longing and compassion, “-he has lived for all those years, and yet, for most of it he has been so very alone?”
The Keeper shrugged, which is a very strange thing to see indeed. “As alone as any of the Dalish ever are when we are part of the clan. I’m not trying to say he hasn’t found a sense of peace, or contentment among our people over the years, or even experienced great joys and pleasures. I think it worth contemplation, however, as to how his life might have been- perhaps lacking isn’t the right word, but certainly without the fully completed promises that life offers. It is important to remember that though he is both young and old at the same time, he is still just a man.”
“And you think, because of my “unique perspective” as an adopted member of the clan, that he might be able to see me differently than the other young women?”
Keeper Mhelen simply nodded with a slow bow.
“But just because he might not see me as one of his “children” doesn’t mean he’ll choose to see me as a potential bond-mate, either. And, it would be quite insulting if he settled for me simply because I was the only option around,” she argued, feeling her self-consciousness and her pride prickle at the idea. “Besides, I don’t think I could really compete with the memory of Margren, his lovely and fierce hunter.”
“Nor should you try,” her mentor announced decisively. “You have your own kind of beauty and strength, and you should only ever try to embody that which you already are.”
“And do you think-“ she hesitated, hopeful, but hesitant. “Will my beauty and strength be enough for him?”
“Well, lethallan, this is only one way to find out, if only you possess the courage.”
After several hours spent wandering the forest paths in introspection and contemplation the young mage and First of the Keeper had arrived at several conclusions.
First, she had decided that it was practically a sin against the gods and against nature for a man, any man, to remain celibate for centuries in general, and especially for such a specimen of perfection in particular.
Second, if she could somehow ease the solitude and isolation he had willingly endured then she owed it to him and to herself to at least inform him of her interest in courting him if there was chance at him returning her affections at all.
Third, she thought there might be a chance he did. He had always been free and easy with his smiles and friendship where she was concerned. He had always been kind and welcoming towards her when she was first new to the clan. She also knew she’d caught his eyes lingering just the slightest bit on her figure when she danced with the other women during one of the celebrations to honor the Goddess Andruil, though she told herself she’d only imagined it at the time.
Fourth, Darciel was pretty sure the Keeper was trying to bate her by questioning her courage, but she just couldn’t resist the chance to defend her character and demonstrate just how brave she could be.
Anyone who thought Keeper Mhelen wasn’t a sly old fox was sorely mistaken.
After the evening meal was over, the clan spent the hour or so until sundown engaging in social endeavors and leisure activities. The children played and chased each other around the camp while the adults chatted as they looked on. The young un-bonded men and women often gathered in groups to play games, or split off into pairs to engage in acts of courting.
Darciel ignored the calls other others to join in some game or other and hurried to follow Hahren Stevhen as he walked towards his aravel, appearing to be prepared to retire for the night.
She called after him and caught up to him just as he was reaching for the latch on his door.
“Yes, Darciel? Can I help you with something?”
“Nothing much,” she said with a smile. “I was actually just thinking it was warm enough for an evening stroll and was wondering if you might join me. I have something I’d like to discuss, if you can spare a few moments.”
“Of course,” he nodded and stepped towards her with a concerned look on his face. “Is anything wrong?”
She laughed lightly and shook her head with a reassuring smile. “No, it’s nothing like that. Everything is well enough.” She fidgeted briefly before waving towards the tree line. “Shall we?”
He nodded once more and followed her towards one of the paths that meandered through the foliage.
When she didn’t speak right way, he attempted to fill the silence. “I hope you know you can talk to me about anything. If you’re having trouble with any of the other members of the clan…?”
Darciel smiled at him again and shook her head. “No, no problems. I’ve settled in very well in the two years since I join the clan. I get along well with everyone. You’ve all been more than welcoming. I’m glad to be here and be part of this clan, and I look forward to serving its people as Keeper one day.”
“And how goes your apprenticeship? Keeper Mhelen speaks very highly, you know.”
She laughed at that and gave him a raised eyebrow. “I think either you are being very gracious, or the Keeper is very forgiving when he talks to others of my skills.”
He smiled back. “Surely you must know how much he cares for and admires you? Besides, he’s not the type to give credit where credit is not due.”
She smiled again. “Well, that is certainly true.” She glanced at his profile as they walked side by side, deeper into the elongating shadows of the forest at dusk. The light that pierced the gloom had an ethereal golden quality to it that light his features in a way she found most pleasing. She glanced over her shoulder and, finding she could no longer see the shapes of the camp through the boughs of the trees, she slowed her pace.
“I’m afraid I have been having a bit of trouble with my lessons lately,” she admitted shyly.
“Oh?” he asked, surprised, “How so?”
“Keeper Mhelen calls it youthful distraction, though I’ve heard Hearth Mistress Saldana refer to it as Somniar Lath, which might be a little less kind, but is no less accurate,” Darciel said with a wry smile.
Comprehension dawned on his face then and he gave a sort of pained smile. “You have your eye set on one of the clan then? I did overheard Joreven announced to several of the other young men that he intended to make overtures to begin courting you. Is he, perhaps the one that has captured your attention?”
This was news to her. She liked Joreven well enough, but she would have a difficult time seeing him through the haze of attraction she felt for the man beside her.
“No, I’m afraid my distraction is nothing as simple as a new suitor. You see, I am not sure the man who holds my heart even seeks a bond, or if he would desire me as a potential mate.”
He looked at her as if she had just announced that she didn’t think all elves had pointed ears. “If he has no mate, why would be object to being courted by such a talented and beautiful young maid, such as yourself. You are the First of the Keeper and an intelligent and capable woman as well. Any man would have to be both blind and stupid not want you for his bondmate.”
Darciel stopped walking and turned to face him, smiling shyly up at him through her dark lashes. “Do you really think so, Hahren Stevhen?”
He looked down at her, his face a mask of solemn certainty, “I do.”
“I was hoping you would say that,” she grinned, her lush full lips parting slightly as she beamed at him. She reached out and her hands and grasped his, pulling them to her mouth and laying a kiss, one on each palm.
He gasped in surprise, just a small quick intake of breath, but it was loud enough to reach her ears. “You don’t-“ His fingers twitched against hers, but he was too stunned to pull away, “not me-“
“Why not you?” she whispered and looked up at him again, her face trying to convey all that she felt for him. “Of all the men of the clan you are the one that has fascinated my mind and ensnared my heart. I can’t help but think of you constantly, your strength and goodness, your compassion and sacrifice. Even the way you care for and teach the children everyday has me longing to one day give you many children of your own, if you want them.”
Her cheeks grew flushed at that and she looked away. “I know you probably only see me as a foolish young girl, but if you could at least give me a chance-“
“No!” he exclaimed as he pulled his hands away, “You cannot want me! I am too old, my days of courting and making love to beautiful women is long past.” He managed to take one step backwards, but Darciel followed, keeping close to him as he walked off the path and then came to a sudden halt, his back against a tree.
“My eyes do not see a man who is old, and my mind and heart are only more attracted to you for your years of experience and wisdom.” She paused, inches from his body now as she reached for his right hand. “If you are telling me that you do not desire me as a woman, then I will go and speak of this no more, but do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot want. I am prepared to prove to you just how much I want.”
Her voice was low and sultry as she pressed his hand to her left breast. “Can you feel my want, Stevhen? Can you feel how you make my heart race, like a herd of frightened Halla in in my chest?”
He swallowed hard and looked down to where she held his palm cupped around her ample mound.
“Tell me you can feel it.”
His voice came as a rough croak when he said, “I can.”
“Tell me you believe me when I say I want you.”
“I do.” His voice slightly stronger, though no less coarse in his throat, and his eyes were beginning to darken with something other than startled panic.
“Tell me you want me, too.” She whispered, her eyes meeting his as she leaned a little closer.
It took him a little longer to reply, and she watched his throat working as her heart continued to pound with anticipation and need.
“I want,” spilled from his lips, finally, and Darciel stretched up on her toes and offered her mouth for the taking.
Take he did.
Once the restraint of his objections was shattered, he seemed consumed with desperation to taste and touch and partake of every part of her. After his mouth spent several minutes at hers, sipping and drinking deep in turns, his hands on her curves, pressing and caressing, he bent slightly and wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs and lifted her from her feet. With one quick turn, it was her back to the tree and her robes were pushed up around her waist.
She could feel him, hard and aroused beneath his tunic and leggings and gasped as the fabric of his clothing came in contact with her wet and aching center.
“Need you-“ she panted between kisses. “Please, Stevhen!”
With her words, he became like a man possessed. Somehow he managed to hold her in place and free himself from the confines of his clothing at the same time. He tested her briefly with his fingers, letting out a primal groan as he felt the evidence of her pleasure and readiness, and then, with one smooth thrust he was inside her.
It was both fast and passionate. Their breath and words rocking together as fervently as their hips, she felt her fondness and admiration for the man in her arms deepen and grow more intense with each plunge of his body in hers.
When they came, it caused a part of each of them to slip into the others soul and blended them into one complete being, two halves becoming something even greater in their connection to the other.
Lungs heaving for air, and minds buzzing with the rush of climax they clung together, simply being there as the fevered lust abated.
When she finally opened her eyes, she found him looking at her, with wonder and affection radiating in his eyes.
“Do you know what a miracle you are, Darciel?” His words brushed over her sensitive, tingling lips and tugged at her heart. “You can’t possibly know what a gift you are. When you first joined our clan I was impressed by your captivating presence and beauty, but I hadn’t dared let myself hope…”
She cupped his jaw and smoothed her thumb along the curve of his bottom lip. “I give myself freely to you. My all, my everything is yours.”
He leaned into her touch with a contented sigh. “And I yours.”
“We should get back,” she said with a wry smile. It was now full dark, and the air was cool on their sweat drenched skin.
“In a moment,” he said, reaching up with one hand to caress her cheek. “I’ve waited a very long time for you. I’d like some time to appreciate you now that I have you.”
She rolled her hips slightly and they both gasped at the aftershocks that flickered back to life where their bodies where joined. “You can appreciate me for as long as you like, whenever you like,” she chuckled with a wicked glint in her eye. “You’ll get no objection from me.”
“That’s good to know,” he laughed back, "Though perhaps Keeper Mhelen will not feel the same. I don’t know if this will help you focus on your studies with him, or make it worse.”
Darciel tucked her face into the curve of his neck and they both shook with laughter.
“Worse, I’m sure of it. Much worse.”
Then she proceeded to let him distract her all over again.