who_is_she | (no subject)

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It had been several weeks since the defeat of Corypheus, and things were starting to settle. The people were starting to relax, Cole could feel it, they were starting to believe they could move on with their lives and stop worrying.

Mihril, too, had started to relax. He'd never seen her so relaxed and happy, which he supposed was a result of circumstances under which they'd met. He was glad to see them smile more and to see that haunted look leave their eyes. Cole felt it too, like Skyhold itself was breathing a sigh of relief. The pain lingering in the halls and grounds had started to fade, started to heal, and Cole could feel himself starting to relax and heal as well.

Mostly what this meant was that he and Mihril had been spending a lot of time together recently. And not the kind of time they had spent together before; running from mission to mission, Cole's daggers slicing through red templars, Venatori, demons and even bears or spiders, Mihril's magic zipping and sizzling over his shoulder. Not that that hadn't been enjoyable in its own way, but it had often accompanied dire situations and stressful news, and Cole only just now felt like he and Mihril were able to be themselves around each other.

The urgency of Cole's romantic feelings had faded somewhat as well--not to say his actual feelings had faded any, or he loved Mihril any less than he had before, but there wasn't the same fear and urgency. Cole was no longer afraid that every kiss would be their last, so he could spend his time with Mihril relaxed and comfortable instead of trying to get all the affection he could into the time he had.

Now they could just spend long hours doing nothing in particular, aside from enjoying each other's company, and Cole found he greatly enjoyed the time they spent together. It was novel to consider a lengthier future instead of expecting danger every day.

Today they were seated in the rafters of one of the smaller, mostly deserted towers, talking idly about nothing of importance. Cole frequented the rafters of the tavern less often now, because the pain clung there while it was fading in other parts of Skyhold, and he found he liked bringing Mihril to the quietest places he could find so that there weren't any other feelings to drown out her brightly shining thoughts and feelings, and no other echoes of magic to dillute the beautiful song of her magic.

"Plants do have feelings, but they're so small and quiet that it can be difficult to hear. And they don't hurt, at least not in the way mortal beings do. They forgive and they understand more easily, I think," Cole is saying as he holds out his arms between two beams, allowing a rat to use him as a bridge.

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Mihril is seated crosslegged on the ground, and she watches him fondly.

It was such an immense relief to get to spend time with him like this. She still had Inquisitorial duties that she was forced to attend to, but with a new Divine in place, she was getting called to duty much less frequently than before. She reflects on the peace happiness she feels in this moment as she watches the rat scuttle across Cole's arm, and back again, and briefly finds herself thinking about the width of his shoulders, and wondering what his arms look like under his sleeves. Flushing quickly, she tries to shift her thoughts to another focus, hoping that he hadn't noticed.

"So it doesn't hurt when I pick their leaves?" she asks as she readjusts the scarf around her neck, "That's good. I always worried about that."

"No, I don't think so," Cole says thoughtfully, smiling as the rat steps off his hand and then turns back to lick at his fingers in thanks, "I think they like to share, to help if they can. It's difficult to say because they don't think." Cole shrugs, enjoying the shift and play of Mihril's thoughts and feelings even when he isn't listening to her thoughts. He feels the swirl of something uncomfortable, ashamed, and he looks up at them with his head tilted.

"Curious," he says to himself, and then frowns a little, "You're curious about something? But you don't want to ask. What is it?"

Mihril's flush deepens, and she lets out a high pitched laugh as her thoughts shift back to those fleeting thoughts. She's painfully aware of how alone they are up here, how they could do anything they wanted and not be interrupted. It wasn't the first time thoughts like this had come to her, and she was sure Cole had picked up on them before, but there had always been interruptions.

"It's nothing," Mihril insists, even as they know that it's pointless to do so, as they fantasize in spite of themselves.

Cole watches Mihril carefully, hearing her thoughts and the agitated panic mixed with desire. He tilts his head the other way, seeing the air shimmer with their magic as he considers their thoughts. Mihril's trying to hide the desire, bury it, but the desire fights to the surface. Cole had long been fascinated by physical desire, originally because it seemed to be a cause of great despair or great pleasure in mortals, and as he'd learned of it, listened to memories of physical intimacy that were often treasured and joyous, his curiosity had only grown.

He'd felt this desire from Mihril before but it was often steeped in shame or pushed away by stress before Cole could taste it. He hadn't wanted to cause Mihril pain by bringing it up, but now they're alone, they have privacy and this fact isn't lost on Mihril.

"Skin," he says as Mihril's thoughts flow to him, almost seek him out, "Want to know, is it soft or rough, warm or cold, what it's like with no clothes in the way. If a bare and bony wrist is tantalizing, what must it be like to see it all?" Cole blinks, and then looks down at his wrists, turning them over and flexing them and imagining them through Mihril's eyes, a pretty and comforting tease. When he looks back up at Mihril his expression is intent and fascinated, "You want to see me naked?"

Mihril looks at him, wide eyed and mouth slightly open, confronted with her own thoughts more clearly than she could have even thought them herself.

"Creators," she mumbles, steepling her hands in front of her face. There was no point in denying it now. "I...yes. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Cole repeats, confused, and feels Mihril's shame rise up and threaten to swallow all those fascinating desires, "Why are you sorry?" Cole scrambles across the dusty floorboards towards them and kneels, his expression earnest and intent.

"Why are you ashamed? It's all right to desire, I think, I don't mind. I want... I like that looking at me makes you happy. I want you to be happy," he smiles, reaching out to take Mihril's hands.

Mihril looks at their hands folded between them, her head spinning wildly at his words. She was somewhat relieved by this reception, but that didn't stop her overwhelming embarrassment.

"I...I don't know why," she stammers, "It just...you weren't doing anything to provoke me thinking...that, and I couldn't exactly keep it to myself. I didn't know what you would think." She reflects on her time in the circle, how she'd never snuck off into the night with any of the other mages like so many of her peers had done, and now she finds herself wishing that she had. It might have given her more experience in dealing with the situation at hand.

"It's all right," Cole says, rubbing Mihril's hands with his thumbs, "It's okay to be inexperienced. To not know what to do. I don't know either, really," he says, responding to Mihril's thoughts rather than their words, "Most people got embarrassed when I asked," he says, making a face.

"I think... We could figure it out together. I think that would be good," he looked up, giving Mihril what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Mihril nods shyly, giving his hands an appreciative squeeze. The gentleness in his voice almost makes her shiver and she wants him, badly, and for once she allows herself to want.

"I-I...thank you. I don't know why I worried so. You give me no cause to." They look up at him finally, before leaning forward enough to touch their lips to his, kissing him lightly.

Cole feels it the moment Mihril relaxes, allows herself to feel her desire without the shame and his smile grows. He moves one of his hands up to Mihril's cheek, cupping it as he kisses back, having no desire to keep the kiss chaste.

Kissing had been something of a novel experience at first. It had seemed a strange and pointless way of expressing affection, at least until he'd tried it. Then the mystery seemed even more strange, because he enjoyed the act very much but still couldn't figure out why. Most of the time, though, he was content to just enjoy kissing and not think too hard about the why.

He kisses Mihril more deeply, opening his mouth to gently nip at their bottom lip before pulling back, smiling warmly. He sits back a little, pulling his hat off and carefully setting it aside before moving to work at the clasps on his jacket.

Mihril swallows, fighting the urge that tells her she should look away, and unfastens her belt and begins to work at the clasps on her jerkin. Soon she's undressed herself from the waist up, and she folds her clothes loosely and sets them next to Cole's.

Cole's movements are imprecise and jerky, as he's only had the last handful of months to learn about clothing, since he'd finally learned that clothes could be removed. He gets his jacket off and leaves it in a pile next to him, then frowns down at himself as he works at removing his other layers. By the time he looks up and sets his undershirts aside Mihril's removed their top as well. He tilts his head as he looks at her chest and stomach, noting the differences between them, and when he looks back up at Mihril's face he's smiling. He reaches out slowly, putting both of his hands on her shoulders to feel their skin.

"It's very soft," he says, rubbing his fingers against their warm skin.

Mihril closes her eyes, and leans forward to touch her forehead against his as she folds her hands against his chest.

"Yeah," she says absently, running her thumb over his rather prominent clavicle, "You are too." She kisses him again after a moment, deeply, leaning back onto the floor and bringing him with her. Once her back is to the floor, she removes herself from him long enough to pull her leggings down slightly, before her hands are back on him again, exploring the length of his torso.

Cole follows her down to the ground, his hands sliding down to feel more of her skin. He cups her breasts and squeezes them a little, enjoying the soft, squishy feel of them and the way they fit in his hands.

Mihril's mind is swirling with want, like the floodgates have opened now that they're allowing themself to want. Cole listens to her thoughts and feelings, enjoying the taste of her pleasure and realizing there's an echo of that same feeling in his own body.

He kisses Mihril and parts his lips to lick into their mouth, listening carefully to Mihril's thoughts, what feels good and what she wants.

Mihril lets out a quiet sound, and they open their mouth for him, sucking his tongue and pressing their own against his. Their thoughts are racing, and they can't quite articulate what they want from him. The image of his fingers pushing into her crosses their mind, and her face grows hot as the picture in her head drifts into thoughts of him kissing her in places besides her mouth.

She opens her eyes, knowing that he knew, and hoping he wasn't repulsed.

Cole pulls back as Mihril's images appear in his own mind, his eyes going wide at the intense and vivid nature of the thoughts. It's not the first time he's seen someone's fantasies, but it is the first time the desire feels real, feels personal, because it's about him and there isn't a shred of hurt tied up in it.

"Yes, yes," Cole says, nodding his head urgently, peppering quick kisses over Mihril's cheek and jaw and neck, "I can do it, I'll make you feel good." He slides back a little to rub his hands over her skin, letting Mihril's feelings guide his hands and mouth to the places that feel the best.

"Gasping, panting, toes curling and hot, melting, more," Cole mutters against their skin, his hands rubbing over their stomach and hips while he tongues at one of Mihril's nipples and then sucks on it, "I can do it for you." He looks up, then, and the only word for the look on his face is eager. He quickly focuses on his task again, giving the same attention to Mihril's other nipple while one of his hands smoothes down her stomach and between her legs.

He lets Mihril's feelings and fantasies and memories guide his hand, exploring to hot, soft skin he finds there for a moment before he presses closer, and his fingers slip against Mihril.

"It's wet," he says, surprised, rubbing his fingers curiously through the slick folds.

Mihril breathes heavily as he kisses her, and she watches him with half lidded eyes, covering her mouth when he sucks at her breast. When he looks up at her, the earnestness of the expression on his face almost makes her giggle, but it quickly turns into a soft moan when he dives back down again and slips his hand between her legs.

"Yes, well," she says, with a soft laugh, letting her legs fall open, "That's your doing."

"Really?" Cole says, sitting up and back a little so that he can see what he's doing, his expression awed and fascinated, "I did that?" He rubs his fingers up and down over the warm, red flesh, without much focus, feeling and testing. A frowning look of concentration comes over his face as he sits back on his heels between Mihril's spread legs, bringing his other hand down to spread them open so he can more easily see what he's doing.

Mihril's reactions are incredible and fascinating, like nothing he's ever seen, and the rush of feelings coming from them are almost overwhelming in their intensity. He pushes down further with one finger, searching for the hole Mihril had imagined his fingers going into. He presses in with his middle finger and finds it when his finger sinks inside, and he easily pushes the length of his finger inside. It's hot and slick and soft and smooth, like nothing Cole has ever felt, and he experimentally moves his finger inside, curling it gently and pulling back, his intense gaze now focused on where his finger was disappearing into Mihril.

Mihril moans again, quietly, covering her mouth with one hand and reaching for him with the other. She curls her fingers around his wrist, the one he wasn't using, and holds tight. Cole's fingers felt much different than her own had, and the memory of a time when she had used them while imagining they were his flits through her mind. She doesn't have the presence of mind to be embarrassed this time, feeling so at ease under him, so wrapped up in the desire and in the fulfillment of what she'd been wishing for for what seemed like ages.

"Cole," she mumbles into the palm of her hand, her voice pleading, knowing that he knows what she needs better than she is even sure of herself.

Edited 2014-12-15 22:12 (UTC)

Cole is encouraged by Mihril's memory, likes the thought of Mihril doing this and thinking of him, their fingers pumping and rubbing, their head tilting back and their whole body tingling and shaking. Cole adds another finger, slowly pressing in and out of Mihril, nodding absently when they say his name.

"More," he mutters to himself, and then leans down, pressing his lips to Mihril's clit, still moving his fingers inside her. He opens his mouth to lick a line up from his fingers, doubling back to lick and taste around his fingers and then flick his tongue against their clit.

He's so focused on his task that he almost doesn't notice the strange, warm tingling feeling coursing through his body. It takes him a moment to identify it as Mihril's magic, seeking him out and wrapping around him, touching him all over. He doesn't feel the physical touch the same way Mihril does, but he can feel what Mihril feels and Mihril's beautiful magic is swirling around him, touching him, pressing into his very being.

Mihril gasps when his mouth makes contact with her skin, and she swears quietly before resting her shaking legs on his shoulders, hooking her ankles around his back. Her hips twitch against him, jerking up into his mouth.

"Maker, Maker, oh, Maker," she says, reaching down to touch him. She says his name again, too, this time more blissfully than urgently, and she can feel the tight grip she usually keeps on her magical abilities loosening quickly as she gives herself over to him. The mark on her hand glows dimly, warmly, and she strokes it back through his matted hair, tangling her fingers in it.

The moment Mihril's mark comes in contact with his head their magic jumps into Cole, zapping and tingling like electricity. He gasps sharply, pulling his mouth away from Mihril as he pants. He moves his fingers faster in and out of Mihril to make up for how the tingling feeling saps his concentration too much to focus on working with his mouth.

"Your magic," he says, his voice deep and dark, "It runs through me, into me, it... tingles. It wants me to feel good too," the last sentence he's surprised to say, to find it true, that Mihril, and by extension Mihril's magic, is seeking him out with the desire to give him pleasure as well, "I like it."

He smiles up at Mihril, and then ducks his head back down, now that he's had a moment to get used to the feeling. He sucks on Mihril's clit and pumps his fingers faster, spurred on by the tingling coursing up and down his body.

Edited 2014-12-16 05:01 (UTC)

Mihril keeps her hand to him, stroking her thumb over his temple as she looks down at him, watching him work and making pleased whines into the hand she has cupped over her mouth.

"Y-yes, of course it does, of course I do, Cole, I really do, I want you to--Cole."

The orgasm takes them by surprise, and their legs clamp down on his head tighter than they mean for them to as their body jerks and twitches in his grasp. They cry out, and it echoes through the tower loud enough to frighten off a group of birds that had perched near where they were lying together on the floor, and she didn't have the presence of mind to worry whether or not they were the only ones who had heard.

"Maker have mercy," she nearly whimpers, her legs still trembling uncontrollably.

Cole is shocked by the strength and intensity of Mihril's orgasm, and he means to keep moving, keep sucking, but the huge wave of pleasure steals away his concentration. It doesn't seem to matter, though, as Mihril's thighs wrap tightly around his head and keep him from moving anyways.

Cole is so wrapped up in Mihril's mind that he feels every sensation she does, and the orgasm is like nothing he's experienced before. He knows what good feels like, the rush of accomplishment and relief that he feels when he helps people, or the warm shivery feeling when he'd kissed Mihril before. None of that prepared him for the raw physical intensity of orgasm, the pleasure so strong and white-hot that it was difficult to even tell it was pleasure, except for when it started to fade away.

When Mihril's thighs relax Cole pulls away gasping, pulling his fingers out of them so he can lean his weight on the floor and try to get his breath back. It's a little overwhelming, and for a long moment Cole just sits there, breathing hard with his eyes wide and staring at nothing. He can still feel the tingle of the magic inside him, still intense but fading, as Mihril regains their senses.

He looks up when Mihril speaks, the shock still written plainly over his face, and when he sees Mihril trembling he realizes that he's shaking, too. He reaches out to rub his hand over Mihril's thigh, for once unsure what to say.

"I... I felt it," he says finally, his voice quiet and faintly shaking.

Mihril sits up slightly to look at Cole, still trying to catch her breath. Feeling more than a little flustered at the sight of him still down there, between her legs, trembling and looking as vulnerable as she's certain she does, she rests an unsteady hand on the one he has on her thigh. She finds herself brimming with affection for him, and leans over far enough to bump her forehead against his.

"You...you did?" she asks, surprised. "Without even...really? I--I didn't know that could happen. How...how do you feel?"

Cole leans into their touch, his hand twisting up to hold theirs as he tries to calm his hitching breathing.

"It's... A lot," he says, quietly, "A lot to feel. I didn't know it was so big," he turns his head, kissing Mihril's cheek and then dropping his head down to their shoulder, wanting to touch more, "I think it was your magic. It... Filled me up, gave me everything you felt, gave me what I couldn't feel myself." His free hand moves up to Mihril's hip, gripping there as he scoots a little closer, kissing lightly at the side of Mihril's neck.

"It was very good," he says, and then pulls back abruptly, his expression utterly serious, "Can we do it again?"

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