Work Text:
For as long as Kirkwall had existed, so had the Blooming Rose. Even back when the city was no more than a collection of mud wattle huts, one of those huts had served as the venue for the world's oldest profession. As the city grew, both in status and in size, so had the Rose. Although it was no longer the only whorehouse in town, it certainly was the most established and the classiest.
The images that the term 'whorehouse' often conjured were incongruous with what the Rose had to offer - velvet curtains and satin sheets, fine wine and exquisite companionship. The uninitiated could neither even begin to imagine the depths of debauchery that could happen within the opulence of its chambers nor expect the kind of illicit activities that might pass through its elegant halls. Whatever a patron sought, the Rose guaranteed he or she would find satisfaction there.
It was this guarantee that had inadvertently led Bethany to the Rose - even though she had only worked up the courage to stand in the foyer. For the last half hour, she hadn't been able to do anything more than peer into the mansion proper. She clutched the token that Isabela had given her to her chest as if it were a talisman of protection.
"Here you go," Isabela had said as she'd dropped the token into Bethany's hand.
Bethany had first looked at the strip of polished wood with a blooming rose gilded in one side, and then up at Isabela, nonplussed.
Isabela had winked salaciously. "An all expenses paid night at the Rose. Use it as you see fit."
Bethany had blushed to the roots of her hair when Isabela had begun to list the candidates, and their specialties, she thought would be appropriate to perform Bethany's initiation rite to womanhood. Bethany had fled as soon as she could.
After a week of doing nothing but looking at the token from time to time, Bethany screwed up her courage to, at least, go to the Blooming Rose on her own. She knew it had to be this particular day, because at the moment, her brother was supposed to be out of town running some menial errand in a bid to earn more coin to fund Bartrand's expedition. She doubted she'd go through with it, though, knowing Garrett could still saunter into the Rose at any time.
Eventually, Bethany took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold into the reception hall. The place was full of aristocrats and commoners alike - as long as one had coin, one would be welcomed. Her gaze raked over the patrons, irrationally checking to see if there was anyone she recognised. Who would she know, really? After all, Isabela was out with her brother.
However, as luck would have it, she spotted Gamlen drunkenly leaning against the bar while eyeing up the serving wench. Bethany ducked behind a table to hide, even though Gamlen was undoubtedly too drunk to notice her. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to take any chances. The last thing she needed was for her uncle to tell mother she had visited the Rose.
Once she was certain Gamlen's attention was elsewhere, Bethany stood up for a speedy retreat only to have someone grasp her wrist. She squeaked in surprise and spun to look at who had grabbed her.
It was an unkempt looking man who smelled of soured ale and unwashed feet. He ogled her with glassy, barely focused eyes and when he smiled, Bethany could see he was missing several teeth.
"What would you do for ten silvers?" The man slurred.
If Bethany hadn't been so discomfited by his lack of personal hygiene she might have felt insulted by the paltry offer. She tried to pull her hand out of his grip, only for him to tighten it.
"Let go!" She protested. "I don't work here."
"Alright, twenty then." He tried to put his arm around her, and it took all of Bethany's will power to not incinerate the lecher.
"Get off, you swine!" Bethany slapped his arm away from her shoulder.
"I'll go as high as thirty-five. I'm not asking for much, just a little... company," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively before grasping Bethany's free hand to pull her closer.
Bethany gagged at the awful stench, preparing to fry the man, even if it meant being taken to the Gallows. In fact, his shirt was already beginning to smoke and singe at the hem, but he was far too inebriated to notice. Fortunately, she was spared from having to expose her magic when her proverbial knight in shining armour came to her rescue.
"I believe the lady said no," her knight said, placing his hand firmly on the other man's shoulder.
The man snarled, "Get your own whore! I saw her first."
"That's the point, you sopping buffoon, this lady is no whore."
But a second later, Bethany clearly felt the surge of magic - a tightly confined Mind Blast - and she was in awe at the finesse and subtlety of the spell. The man's eyes rolled back and he toppled clumsily into an undignified heap on the floor. Bethany stared at him, unable to move though she didn't know why.
Her knight, being no one else than Anders, placed a protective arm around her and swiftly whisked her out of the Rose. Bethany let herself be led without protest; all she wanted was to get away from there.
Once they stepped out of the mansion, they slowed in their stride. It was only then that he removed his arm from her shoulders.
"Are you alright?" Anders asked as they slowly wend their way through Hightown towards Bethany's home.
Bethany nodded. "Yes, thank you. I was ready to set him on fire."
He smiled. "You're welcome. We apostates have to look out for each other."
Bethany returned his smile. It was perhaps the first time she had seen him smile. While she had not known him long or well, she knew he had taken the death of his friend, Karl, very hard.
Actually, she noted, he had a really nice smile. Giving him a, as she thought, subtle once-over, she also noticed that he was not wearing the feathered coat that he usually seemed to favour. In place of that, a dark leather jerkin hugged his torso snugly. Beneath the jerkin, he wore a plain linen tunic with its sleeves rolled up to reveal his sculpted arms. Stout woollen trousers and a pair of dusty, scuffed up boots completed his outfit. While he had not brought his staff with him, a dagger was sheathed at his thigh. So, instead of an apostate, he looked like any ordinary Kirkwaller, though a rather ruggedly handsome one.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Anders spoke again.
Bethany snapped her mouth shut when she realised she had been gawking; her attempt at subtlety had obviously failed. Bethany could feel the blush rise in her cheeks. Suddenly remembering the token that was still in her hand, she instinctively tried to hide it, which of course was the wrong thing to do. Anders' attention was immediately drawn to it. Her cheeks grew even hotter.
"Please don't tell my brother," she blurted out. "Isabela gave it to me. I just wanted to go look, I wasn't going to do anything." For some unknown reason it felt like she had been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar.
Anders chuckled at her inadvertent confession. "Don't worry, I won't tell Hawke, but you needn't be embarrassed about it. Everybody needs a little release and recreation once in a while. In fact, the Rose is probably the best place to purchase them."
"Because they have the largest talents in town?"
Anders let out a bark of laughter. "Is that what Isabela told you?" Bethany nodded and he continued, "She may be right," he mused. "She would certainly know, but that wasn't what I meant."
"Oh? What did you mean?"
"Well, now that I am their healer I must admit I actually see less," Anders paused, as if searching for the right words, "Less problems of a sexual nature there than I get at my clinic."
"You're their healer?" Bethany asked in surprise.
"Hmm." He nodded. "After realising a lot of my patients with said problems were also the Rose's clients, I decided to offer Madame Lusine my services. She compensates me well enough to help supply my clinic."
"So you weren't there to... er... you know?"
Smiling indulgently at her, Anders shook his head. "No, I wasn't there to, er, you know."
"But," Bethany continued tentatively, staring down at her moving feet instead of looking at Anders. "Would you? I mean if you weren't working and all."
When he replied, she could clearly hear the amusement in his voice. "I suppose I would if I felt inclined to. If you want to, go ahead; no one would judge you for it."
"It's not that. Actually, it is, but also..." Bethany paused, chewing her bottom lip. She dared to glance at Anders. "It's just that I've never done this before."
"It's just the same," Anders replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Except there's no awkward morning after conversations and your coin purse is a little lighter."
Anders obviously thought she meant she had never paid for sex before. Bethany didn't know why, but she had the urge to clarify herself. She cleared her throat and said in a small voice, "No, I, er... I mean I've never done it before."
It seemed to take Anders a moment to realise what Bethany was implying. "Ah, is that why Isabela gave you a token?"
Bethany nodded, feeling her cheeks heat up again. She half expected him to tease her like Carver would have, but Anders just looked at her kindly.
"In that case, may I give you some advice?" He suddenly laughed - no doubt at her expression of mortification - before saying, "No need to look so worried. It won't be like Isabela's brand of advice."
Bethany smiled sheepishly. "Oh, sure."
"You should save your token for some other time. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I believe your first time should be memorable; with someone you really desire, someone special, someone you trust. Don't be in a hurry to do it just with anyone at the Rose; even if he does have the largest talent in town."
Bethany chuckled, feeling a little less nervous. However, the feeling was fleeting as the sound of clanking plate interrupted them. They exchanged wary glances and a silent understanding of what they needed to do. If they had one thing in common, it would be their well-honed instincts to avoid Templars. Anders reached out to grasp her hand and they retreated into a shadowed niche in the boundary wall of a Hightown estate.
Bethany backed into a wooden door and Anders stood protectively in front of her. As the clanking grew louder, Bethany knew they had to find a better place to hide. Reaching behind her, she closed her hand over a padlock that had been digging into her hip. She concentrated hard, channeling a tremendous amount of elemental magic into the lock - first to heat it up then to rapidly freeze it. Drawing Anders' dagger, she struck the frozen lock with the pommel and let out a relieved sigh as it snapped with ease.
Pushing the door open, Bethany was faced with a flight of stairs. She had no idea why there were stairs there, nor where they led, but it was surely better than being on the street. Hurriedly, she ascended them, pulling Anders up behind her.
The stairs ended at a long narrow balcony of a manor. Fortunately, the windows along it were dark; most likely the inhabitants were asleep or away.
Bethany and Anders flattened themselves against the wall in the corner. Even though they were effectively out of sight now, Anders still held her close, so close she could feel his rapid heartbeat drumming at the same rhythm as hers. She was suddenly highly aware of the heat that emanated from his body, seeping into her skin. With the warmth came also his scent - the subtle bouquet of healing reagents intermingled with the delicate fragrance of exotic perfumes on his skin, a mix which she found absolutely intoxicating. Leaning into the crook of his neck, Bethany inhaled rather unashamedly, and just beneath the heady scent she detected the barest tang of masculinity that made her knees weak. She shivered and Anders tightened his embrace in answer, one of his hands stroking soothingly up and down her side. He must be thinking she was terrified. It had to be just that, Bethany told herself, though she certainly wasn't going to complain.
The clanging patrol passed right below the balcony, and Anders disengaged himself though only as far as he needed to just peek over the balustrade. Bethany then heard him sigh with relief.
He turned to her with a smile that suddenly appeared so much deeper and... more intimate than before. Bethany's breath hitched, and she paid hardly any attention as Anders whispered his observations to her, "Not Templars, just the city guard, who will probably arrest us for breaking and entering." He let out a low chuckle that seemed to reverberate in her gut, little fingers of sound that tickled her inside. Anders paused, looking at her intently before asking, "Are you alright?"
Even in the shadows, Bethany could see his eyes brimming with concern, though there was also still that little upward tilt to the corner of lips; her eyes were inevitably drawn to it. She was keenly aware that his hands were resting lightly on her hips while hers were curled around his bare arms. She could feel the muscles flex under his skin, even though he was barely moving. Her heart began hammering even louder and she was convinced he could hear it, too.
'With someone you desired' - he had said and Bethany decided then, it was he whom she desired. Acting before she could lose her courage, she stood on her tip-toes and tentatively pressed a kiss onto his lips. For the breath of a moment, she thought she would be rejected, feared she had read him completely wrong.
Then there was the answering pressure against her lips as Anders reciprocated briefly before drawing back slightly, "This is what you desire?" he inquired, reaching up to run his knuckles gently along her cheekbone.
Bethany was relieved he seemed to understand her intention and had not asked what in the Maker's name she was doing. She knew she would've lost her nerve, not to mention died of embarrassment, if he had.
"Yes," she replied, unable to keep a small quaver out of her voice.
"Well, then, let's make this a night to remember," he promised in a low husky voice she had never heard from him before that sent shivers down her spine.
Anders placed his hand at her nape and drew her near. His lips felt soft and warm and Bethany eyes fluttered closed as she surrendered to the kiss. It began as nothing more than light grazes, which gradually deepened as she became more pliant under his touch.
She had never been kissed like that before. Micah, the only boy she had ever kissed, certainly hadn't been half as skilled. Of course, he'd only been fifteen then.
As Anders moved to plant more kisses down Bethany's neck, the soft touch of his lips were in stark contrast with the rough scrape of his lightly stubbled chin. Nevertheless, Bethany found she really enjoyed the paired sensation.
She was only dimly aware of his fingers undoing the buttons of her peasant's dress. The cool night air prickled at her suddenly bare chest, giving rise to goosebumps; but they were soon banished when Anders' warm hand cupped her breast. Bethany gasped and started involuntarily, which made Anders pause.
"Sorry," she whispered, feeling herself blush again.
He pulled back slightly and looked at her with a reassuring smile. "There's no need to apologise; but if you want me to stop at any time -"
"No!" Bethany exclaimed a little more vehemently than she had intended, making Anders chuckle.
He planted another kiss on her lips, his hands sliding down to her hips. Bethany hadn't even realised he had steered her to the balustrade until she felt her back bump the edge. He lifted her onto it and Bethany hooked her legs around him. Their bodies pressed together, and she could feel the subtle bulge of his hardening cock.
Bethany drew in a long breath when arousal blossomed between her thighs. This is it, she thought nervously. It was certainly not how she had pictured her first time, and most definitely not with whom, but for reasons unknown, it felt just right.
Her thoughts were lost as Anders' lips blazed a trail down her neck towards her breasts, peppering kisses all over her cleavage before drawing one of her nipples into his mouth. The tingling sensation of pleasure radiated out from her chest right up to her fingertips and then pooled around her groin as Anders slid his hands up her thighs. Bethany steadied herself on the balustrade while she arched into Anders' touch.
With feather-light strokes, Anders' fingers ghosted over her mound, drawing a whimper from her. After a moment of teasing, he pulled her knickers down. Anders glanced up at her to meet her eyes, a smile that was both impish and tender gracing his lips. He looked gorgeous then – his angular features accented by the wispy tendrils of the crescent moon.
"Ready?" he whispered, but before Bethany could ask "for what?" he descended to press his tongue against her clit. Bethany was certain all the lights in the world winked out just for a moment.
Anders mouth was akin to liquid fire, setting her senses ablaze, and then there was lapping and swirling, sucking and slurping and Maker only knew what else. It was doing things to her, things she could not even begin putting into words. The feeling intensified even more when Bethany felt a curious finger idly caressing her folds, as if seeking permission to enter.
Her invitation was breathless, both a plea and consent. When the finger slid into her, Anders moaned in tandem with her. Before long a second finger eased into her, delivering long, sensuous strokes, each of which she instinctively answered with a roll of her hips. Then, without warning, Bethany felt a burst of exhilaration in her loins, and she cried out. Anders quickened his pace, constantly brushing over the exact spot that was making sparks fly across her vision.
Bethany clung to the balustrade with a white knuckle grip, reeling in the burgeoning euphoria that promised glorious fulfilment. Within moments, her world was rent asunder and she let out a keening wail as she convulsed around Anders' fingers.
Bethany didn't know how long she sat perched on the balustrade as she descended from the clouds, but she was quite enjoying how Anders was running his hands up and down her arms, as if to ground her. Her eyes fluttered open and she was greeted by a smug grin on his lips and a hungry glint in his eyes.
When Bethany looked down, there was no mistaking the state of his arousal that was confined within his trousers. Perhaps emboldened by the lingering buzz in her veins, or spurred on by her newly awakened voracity, she reached for his laces and loosened them with nimble fingers. Once undone, she eased his trousers and small clothes down to free his cock.
Bethany could not help it - she stared, her mouth slightly agape, and, knowing her luck, drool was probably running down her chin as well. She didn't mean to, of course, but it was the first time that she had seen an erect cock; and, Maker, Anders was larger than she had thought.
"I... you... Maker...!" She stuttered.
Anders answered with a low laugh, and she snapped her mouth shut, feeling her cheeks burn again. He leaned in to give her a tender kiss and whispered, "You really do know how to flatter a guy. Trust me, it'll be alright."
Wordlessly, Bethany just nodded as Anders gently took her hand and guided it between them. When he closed her fingers around his shaft, he exhaled, long and slow. Bethany marvelled at the girth and the silky texture of his cock. Tentatively, she slid her fist upwards making Anders' breath hitch.
"Tighter," he said hoarsely, and Bethany complied. Anders let out a contented sigh as Bethany began to stroke in earnest. He leaned forward, braced his hands on the balustrade behind her and rested his head on her shoulder. Bethany could feel his hot breath coming out in short, rapid bursts and she, too, became lost in the moment.
Then Anders suddenly stilled her hand and pulled back. His voice was harsh and guttural, when he asked in an urgent whisper, "Bethany, please, can I...?"
Bethany felt a shiver run from her head to her toes, and a sweet tightening in her groin as she breathed her acquiescence while hitching a leg up onto his hip. Her heart resumed hammering rapidly as he hooked his arm under the crook of her knee and gently guided himself into her.
The head of Anders' cock stretched her far more than fingers ever could and she felt the burn. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she whimpered, flitting erratically between the pain and the pleasure. When Anders began lavishing attention on her neck and breasts again, however, pleasure won out quickly and she found herself gliding her hips forward, taking his entire length into her. The rush of the initial entry was beyond what she had fantasised about, and she held him there for a moment by digging her heel into his back.
A part of her wanted to stay there to relish it, but another part begged for more. Bethany released her grip on Anders, then rolled her hips, slowly, experimentally, and Anders thrust to meet her. The searing heat that blossomed in her belly was incredible. If Anders' moans were anything to go by, he, too, was enjoying it as much as she was.
They moved at a slow steady tempo, which was almost languorously. Bethany could feel the tension of restraint bunching up in Anders' shoulder. She knew, and appreciated, that he was letting her set the pace. It was sweet and very romantic. Affection bloomed in Bethany's heart and she captured his lips for another kiss, teasing him, exploring him, tasting him deeply.
"Good?" he asked as they parted.
"Incredible," she replied.
"Flatterer," he joked. "Want to make it even better?"
"Mmm, yes, please," Bethany moaned, chewing her lip in anticipation.
Anders then withdrew to manoeuvre her onto her hands and knees. He moved to kneel behind her then pressed his cock into her again.
A blood-tingling current surged through Bethany when Anders sheathed himself to the hilt. If Bethany didn't know better, she would've thought Anders had demonstrated the electricity thing that Isabela was wont to mention, but Bethany did know better. This was no Fade magic; it was Anders' own unique brand.
The tempo was faster this time, the depth greater, and the angle just so that with each thrust, Bethany could feel the passion begin to simmer in her belly once more. Alliterations of an unfamiliar tongue, punctuated by grunts and moans, spilled from Anders' lips. Bethany had never heard that language before yet she found it mesmerising and arousing. The coiled pressure in her reached its boiling point when Anders' confident fingers rubbed at her again. When she climaxed, a violent tremor seized her entire being, swiftly pulling Anders along into the maelstrom of explosive ecstasy.
Anders slumped forward, pressing butterfly kisses onto her shoulders. She could still feel the shudder of his release, coming and going in lazy waves. Eventually, he withdrew, leaving Bethany feeling somewhat bereft. Anders shuffled to sit and lean against the balustrade before pulling Bethany into his arms. Bethany snuggled up against him comfortably, savouring the giddy afterglow of their tryst.
"So, is this where we have that awkward morning after conversation?" She asked after a little while.
Anders chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Only if you feel it's necessary."
Bethany smiled to herself, heartened by Anders' choice to let it be her decision. She understood that this was a one-time thing. She expected neither a lasting commitment nor an ongoing arrangement. However, she was certain that should further opportunities arise, she wouldn't deny them.
"I guess not, but I do have one thing to say," Bethany replied, "It's probably best not to mention this to my brother."
"I knew it, you are ashamed of me being an apostate!" Anders lamented dramatically.
Bethany patted his chest placatingly. "There, there, I'm doing this for your own good. Garrett's daggers are very pointy."
Laughing, Anders gave her a little squeeze and a peck on the nose. "It'll be our little secret. Come on, let's get you home before we get into more trouble."
~Fin~