The Amell Legacy: Transgressions

[Haliel Lightsong]

"Really? So- so soon?" She stammers, eyes widening even more. "I m-mean, I just- okay. That's- okay How does- how does it work? Should I- do I do something?"

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene smiles. "It is a divination spell. This one will reach out to contact the Herald, and the Herald will answer or not. If it is a burden, the Herald can simply not answer."

Helene can feel Varric's glare, but ne continues to smile anyway, omitting the risk to nemself.

[Haliel Lightsong]

"Oh. Okay. That seems- good. Okay. Should... should I- will Ne being able to see me? Should- I should get my vestments on," she babbles. "And brush up on my prayers. And- and-"

[Helene Dakesh]

"You will not be seen," says Helene, smiling. "Only the caster directly contacts the Herald."

[Haliel Lightsong]

It still seems... polite. "Umm. Okay. So... will- will I hear Nem? Or- how- you said only the caster can- so how do I ask my question? Do you?"

[Helene Dakesh]

"You should prepare your questions, written if possible, so that this one can read them and assist with the syntax. But for now, you should prepare your spells and the questions. This one will meet with you over breakfast."

[Haliel Lightsong]

Haliel nods slowly, a trembling smile clearly displayed. "Thank you. Thank you so much for this, Seeker. I-" She pauses, having risen and approached. "Are you okay with hugs? From me, obviously."

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene's smile slips a touch. "This one would prefer, not at this time, thank you."

[Haliel Lightsong]

Haliel looks briefly disappointed, but nods. "What are you comfortable with? Handshake, exchanged bows... I want to express my deep gratitude for this, and not just to Seeker Helene but to my friend. Making you uncomfortable would be... counter-productive isn't quite right but..."

[Helene Dakesh]

"Please do not touch this one. This one appreciates your gratitude."

[Haliel Lightsong]

That seems... sad, to not enjoy touch. Then again, I suppose Marian- and others- would think the same about me not enjoying sex. "Understood, Seeker Helene." Haliel steps back, then bows deeply. "I will leave you be to finish readying for the day."

[NPCs]

When Marian wakes up alone, her body is... sore. No pain, not even much fatigue- Tanna has access to some very good healing magic and a willingness to use it. Good thing too, given what they had gotten up to before she passed out. The silk rope ties and blindfold, she'd expected. The spanking too, though the silk lined board and the wood studded pillow-stick thing were new. The soft, calfskin flogger? The riding crop? The ballgag? The beads Tanna had slipped inside her in more places than she'd ever expected? Those were things she'd never thought to encounter outside mentions in the raciest of racy stories.

Wonderful, marvelous things.

Tanna had been... Marian had thought Zevran and Isabela to be skilled, to be talented, at giving pleasure. But Tanna has this almost unnerving ability to push past the limits Marian thought she had and show her that pleasure lay on the other side. From the very first kiss in the marketplace, it had been good. Once they'd gotten to Tanna's inn and upstairs... it had been incredible. That first massage alone, a reward for being so fearless in the street, had made her touch the sky three times. Each time she obeyed, each time she pushed herself to accept more, to cross a line and dig deeper, Tanna had lavished her with praise, pleasure and pain in equal measure until they had become a single thing, a fundamental craving that even now the merikos elf can feel slumbering inside her. Sated, but not for long.

Her memories of the later parts was a bit muddled, her mind and body almost but not quite overwhelmed by Tanna's intensity and stamina. She can recall bathing in scented water, being gently, almost tenderly cleaned- and that must have been near the end, given that her skin feels smooth and unsoiled right now. She can recall tasting every inch of Tanna's body, no matter how private or demeaning. She can recall Tanna slipping on a ring, her vulva swelling out to a cock and balls, as the aasimar says something about proving the fun one can have with a cock, this sinfully pleased smile on her lips. She can recall Tanna returning the favor by tasting her, surprising Marian with a nearly prehensile tongue and a disregard for air. She can recall the kindly, supportive murmurs Tanna had rained down on her, not just about sex but about her mind, about her strength of will.

She can recall... is that clock right? Fuuuuuuuck.

[Marian Hawke]

For a moment, she doesn't care. What does it matter? Varric is sure to be furious with her, for running off, for ruining his plans. Wouldn't it be better if she never come back? If she avoids him forever, she won't have to face the music, the betrayal, the pain. Why not stay here, with Tanna? Tanna was helping her improve, in ways Varric never did -- he always has to control her, while Tanna was willing to break her down so she could build up stronger. And truth be told, the breaking was as good, as satisfying and fulfilling as the building. There was something about being broken down to her core, something about having her pretenses stripped away, that was intoxicating and heady, just as touching the sky could be. 

But she thinks of Lightsong. Of the fragile hope in her eyes when Marian had said they could be friends. Of the bitterness in her voice when Marian pulled away, even a little. Could she really live with herself if she betrayed Lightsong, and just left, without saying goodbye?

You promised, she tells herself, and so, she pulls together the fragile, broken bits of self, pulls on clothes. Promises to meet with Tanna again. 

Still toying with the idea that she'll just go long enough to get her things together and say goodbye, that next time she won't be back, she slinks into their inn as quietly as she can, hoping not to run into Varric before she's back to her room to change into fresh clothes. Tanna may have healed her, but she hasn't cleaned the blood from her clothing yet. A beginner's spell, an apprentice spell -- and one she can't cast, even as a ritual.

[Varric]

Slipping into the back turns out to be a miscalculation, as Varric is there by the service door, having a quiet talk with a... well, Marian would realize he's shady looking, but only because she knows what to look for. Your average citizen would just skim right over them in a crowd, even a small one. Varric spots her before she can hide and, for a brief instant, sees the shock and naked relief on his face before his regular control dims his expression. "Marian! Nevermind, keep the upfront as thanks for your time, I'll be in touch if I need eyes in the future." That last was slanted at the stranger, who just shrugs and slips out the side door. Moving quickly, Varric heads for Marian. "Gods below, it's-" And then he spots the blood. "Fuck! I knew that- damnit! How bad are you hurt?"

[Marian Hawke]

"I'm fine," she says quickly. "Been healed. Just-- just can't-- well you know," she stammers, looking away, her voice artificially low, gruff. Hold your head high, bluff your way through.

"I'm fine," she says again, firmer.