How much I like doing paperwork remains about the same on any given day - namely not at all. [ His words are drawled, gentle sarcasm, as he lets his hand continue in its light exploration, tangling lightly in her hair for a moment. ] Unfortunately your other two advisers seem to thrive on the stuff.
[ He leans in then, brushing his lips against hers in a chaste whisper of contact, his eyes dark and warm and locked on her face. ] I see. And what end of the spectrum are we leaning towards?
Well, then, as I prefer for my advisers to be as happy as possible, you may want to stay here for a while, at least.
[ Maybe she'll start sneaking more nightly visits. What are the chances she pulls it off without the entirety of Skyhold seeing?? ]
Josie most of all. [ Writing letters, always writing. When she isn't writing, she's talking. Cecily imagines the woman gets exactly no sleep. And Leliana... is perhaps the most enigmatic of them all and knows everything about anyone with seemingly no effort.
Instigated by his gesture, she chuckles shortly, softly, and then closes the distance again. It's more contact than his kiss, one that lingers and seems to brim with the warmth of everything he's brought to her life. ]
Oh, I really don't like either. They're both so finite.
[ And to put an end to anything between them makes her feel petulant and rebellious, a child unwilling to part with the experiences that make her happiest. Most at peace. ]
[ His self-restraint is only so strong, and the brush of her lips in response to his is what has him sliding his arms around her to draw her closer against his chest. One hand lifts to tangle fingers in her hair, cupping lightly at the back of her head as he kisses her again, deeper this time. His movements are still slow, almost languorous, indulging in this precious few moments of stolen time and just as selfish in refusing to let it go while he has it. ]
[ But they aren't, not at all. She's tugged in closer, the both of them in less than armor, the fabric enough to keep a layer between them but nowhere close to the usual. Her arm slips around his waist, fingers dragging slowly across his back, meeting his lips for a kiss that is somehow surprisingly passionate... or, perhaps not. She breathes in the scent of him, hand ghosting up his side to brush at the stubble, to follow his jaw and settle at the nape of his neck again.
When they allow themselves to come up for air, her cheeks are scarlet, her eyes bright, her smile a little sheepish. ]
Well, I can't keep my busy, hard-working Commander from his desk for very long in good conscience. [ But she stretches, back arching, head rolling lazily to expose her neck and collarbone. She also eyes him, innocent as you like, arms resting up above her head as she watches. ]
[ He hums in consideration at that, gaze drown down the slender arch of her neck and letting his mouth follow the invitation she offered him, kissing his way down to her collarbone. ]
Well, technically, I can be very hard at work in a private meeting with my Inquisitor, as well. Important discussions and all that. Strategies. It could take some time. We wouldn't want to overlook anything.
[ Their relationship had been strange for both at first, with Cecily shamelessly flirting with the baffled Commander of the Inquisition, but he's moved far beyond abruptly shifting topics and rubbing nervously at the back of his neck (mostly).
She has not moved beyond shamelessly flirting with him. ]
Oh, no, of course not. [ She flashes her teeth in a smile directed at the ceiling, savoring each brush of his lips at her throat. ] I know that we'd both prefer if the conference were thorough.
I'd hate to think of anyone accusing us of lacking thoroughness. We are reputed to be stubborn, after all.
[ One hand slides up her side to cup against her ribs, just under the swell of one breast, even as his lips find the curve where throat meets shoulder. He pauses there, sucking lightly, adding just the lightest scrape of teeth to her flesh. ]
We're reputed to be a lot of things; "stubborn" is likely the least of them.
[ Her breath hitches a little as he nips at her skin, but it only serves to encourage. She grins wickedly, not giving him the time to slowly entice her, and instead squirming away and fairly adeptly slipping over him, one hand nudging his shoulder down, moving to straddle.
Maybe she looks a little too smug at such a small accomplishment, but it's still early, and they're both still hungover. ]
You are tickling me, intentional or not, and I've already sworn revenge against you once already, so... I'm going to sit here until I can think of what exactly it is that you've deserved.
Always a risk, as I am but one adviser. [ Still, he's grinning, no heat behind the words other than the gentle teasing they've taken up. ] What is it you think I deserve, my lady? I humbly surrender whatever judgement you deem justice.
I thought you wanted to make a suggestion? [ She shifts her hips where she lies on top of him, showing all the signs of being a large, predatory cat. ] Don't you want the chance to plead your case?
[ It sounds like one of the judgments she'd been roped into, sitting on a throne that makes her feel more powerful than she'd ever wanted to feel. Luckily, it's much less likely that this will result in jailing or execution, but no less pressing for the pair of them. ]
I would never suggest anything so scandalous. [ She matches his expression with one of her own, but it melts quickly into something full of scrutiny and very serious. ] But if you leave your fate to the Inquisition, and to the Inquisitor, specifically, I can't promise any mercy. I've heard she can be frightfully harsh.
Oh, frightfully indeed. [ He's swift to agree in mock seriousness. ] All her underlings spend every day quaking in terror. She's quite the tyrant. A single look from her and they are likely to fall whimpering at her feet.
And thank the Maker for that; I've heard she doesn't take well to whimpering or groveling.
[ So be it. Swiftly and with more fervor than before, she leans in to capture his mouth in hers, the first of many. The kiss is slow, perhaps painfully slow, but deep. Not at all sloppy. She stretches her arm out along his, tracing idle lines along his skin, across his palm.
There will be time for more of their flirting in between, when she gives him a break. ]
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[ He leans in then, brushing his lips against hers in a chaste whisper of contact, his eyes dark and warm and locked on her face. ] I see. And what end of the spectrum are we leaning towards?
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[ Maybe she'll start sneaking more nightly visits. What are the chances she pulls it off without the entirety of Skyhold seeing?? ]
Josie most of all. [ Writing letters, always writing. When she isn't writing, she's talking. Cecily imagines the woman gets exactly no sleep. And Leliana... is perhaps the most enigmatic of them all and knows everything about anyone with seemingly no effort.
Instigated by his gesture, she chuckles shortly, softly, and then closes the distance again. It's more contact than his kiss, one that lingers and seems to brim with the warmth of everything he's brought to her life. ]
Oh, I really don't like either. They're both so finite.
[ And to put an end to anything between them makes her feel petulant and rebellious, a child unwilling to part with the experiences that make her happiest. Most at peace. ]
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[ His self-restraint is only so strong, and the brush of her lips in response to his is what has him sliding his arms around her to draw her closer against his chest. One hand lifts to tangle fingers in her hair, cupping lightly at the back of her head as he kisses her again, deeper this time. His movements are still slow, almost languorous, indulging in this precious few moments of stolen time and just as selfish in refusing to let it go while he has it. ]
Most things are, my lady.
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[ But they aren't, not at all. She's tugged in closer, the both of them in less than armor, the fabric enough to keep a layer between them but nowhere close to the usual. Her arm slips around his waist, fingers dragging slowly across his back, meeting his lips for a kiss that is somehow surprisingly passionate... or, perhaps not. She breathes in the scent of him, hand ghosting up his side to brush at the stubble, to follow his jaw and settle at the nape of his neck again.
When they allow themselves to come up for air, her cheeks are scarlet, her eyes bright, her smile a little sheepish. ]
Well, I can't keep my busy, hard-working Commander from his desk for very long in good conscience. [ But she stretches, back arching, head rolling lazily to expose her neck and collarbone. She also eyes him, innocent as you like, arms resting up above her head as she watches. ]
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Well, technically, I can be very hard at work in a private meeting with my Inquisitor, as well. Important discussions and all that. Strategies. It could take some time. We wouldn't want to overlook anything.
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She has not moved beyond shamelessly flirting with him. ]
Oh, no, of course not. [ She flashes her teeth in a smile directed at the ceiling, savoring each brush of his lips at her throat. ] I know that we'd both prefer if the conference were thorough.
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[ One hand slides up her side to cup against her ribs, just under the swell of one breast, even as his lips find the curve where throat meets shoulder. He pauses there, sucking lightly, adding just the lightest scrape of teeth to her flesh. ]
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[ Her breath hitches a little as he nips at her skin, but it only serves to encourage. She grins wickedly, not giving him the time to slowly entice her, and instead squirming away and fairly adeptly slipping over him, one hand nudging his shoulder down, moving to straddle.
Maybe she looks a little too smug at such a small accomplishment, but it's still early, and they're both still hungover. ]
You are tickling me, intentional or not, and I've already sworn revenge against you once already, so... I'm going to sit here until I can think of what exactly it is that you've deserved.
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Am I allowed to make suggestions?
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[ It sounds like one of the judgments she'd been roped into, sitting on a throne that makes her feel more powerful than she'd ever wanted to feel. Luckily, it's much less likely that this will result in jailing or execution, but no less pressing for the pair of them. ]
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I, however, happen to be very bad at grovelling.
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[ So be it. Swiftly and with more fervor than before, she leans in to capture his mouth in hers, the first of many. The kiss is slow, perhaps painfully slow, but deep. Not at all sloppy. She stretches her arm out along his, tracing idle lines along his skin, across his palm.
There will be time for more of their flirting in between, when she gives him a break. ]