Their ship will not depart until dawn, so Bethany accepts the invitation for an evening at the Hanged Man, and she and Nathaniel spend the entire night there with her brother and his friends -- drinking, talking, laughing, drinking some more. Somehow she ends up in a corner, wedged between Nathaniel and Anders, swapping gossip about the other Wardens of Vigil's Keep; eventually, the others all drift away -- each leaving her with a kind word, a pat on the shoulder, from Garrett a fierce hug, and, lastly, a wink from Isabela as she saunters off on her brother's arm.
Bethany thinks she knows what that wink is for. She leans back against the wall and watches them talk, Anders and Nathaniel, a light in Nathaniel's eyes that she rarely sees unless they are alone, or visiting his nephew. Isabela must have noticed, too. Then Anders laughs, a warm and hearty sound that makes her toes curl. She wonders if the men have even realized that they are alone. She clears her throat, and they both look up at her.
"It's late," she says, gesturing to the low embers in the fireplace. "Perhaps we should get to bed." Turning, she glances at Anders and holds his gaze; he lifts a brow, and his eyes widen as he sees the invitation there. Then he smiles, slowly, and gives her a small nod.
"You're right." Nathaniel's nod is reluctant, and Bethany hides a smile; unlike Anders, he hasn't caught her meaning. Nathaniel stands and holds out a hand. "Good night, Anders," he says, voice rough. "It was good to see you."
Bethany looks at Anders, indicating her permission, and then he takes Nathaniel's hand in his as he rises to his feet. "Likewise," he says, and then he pulls Nathaniel close, kissing him on the mouth.
At first, Nathaniel is startled; Bethany sees him stiffen as his eyes fly open. Then they flutter closed and he leans in, lifting his other hand to Anders' shoulder, relaxing in to the kiss, and Bethany's breath catches in her throat. They break away, staring in each other's eyes for a long moment, and Nathaniel glances down before looking back up at Bethany, expression sheepish. "My apologies, Bethany, it won't--"
Before he can finish the sentence, she is standing, her hands framing his stubbled cheeks, and then she is kissing him, hard, her lips caressing his, her tongue darting into his mouth, and he responds, backing her up against the wall. When she pulls back they're both breathing hard, almost panting, and she takes a moment to be grateful that the bar is nearly deserted. "Or maybe," she says, winding a hand around the back of Nathaniel's neck, glancing at a smiling, flushed Anders through her eyelashes, "it will."
Nathaniel presses his forehead to hers. "Are you sure?"
She kisses him again, lightly, a touch filled with promise and desire. "Oh yes."
"In that case..." Nathaniel reaches out a hand, and Anders takes it, winding their fingers together. "Lead the way." Bethany grasps Nathaniel's other hand and pulls them both up the stairs.
Invitation (Nathaniel/Bethany/Anders, T)
Bethany thinks she knows what that wink is for. She leans back against the wall and watches them talk, Anders and Nathaniel, a light in Nathaniel's eyes that she rarely sees unless they are alone, or visiting his nephew. Isabela must have noticed, too. Then Anders laughs, a warm and hearty sound that makes her toes curl. She wonders if the men have even realized that they are alone. She clears her throat, and they both look up at her.
"It's late," she says, gesturing to the low embers in the fireplace. "Perhaps we should get to bed." Turning, she glances at Anders and holds his gaze; he lifts a brow, and his eyes widen as he sees the invitation there. Then he smiles, slowly, and gives her a small nod.
"You're right." Nathaniel's nod is reluctant, and Bethany hides a smile; unlike Anders, he hasn't caught her meaning. Nathaniel stands and holds out a hand. "Good night, Anders," he says, voice rough. "It was good to see you."
Bethany looks at Anders, indicating her permission, and then he takes Nathaniel's hand in his as he rises to his feet. "Likewise," he says, and then he pulls Nathaniel close, kissing him on the mouth.
At first, Nathaniel is startled; Bethany sees him stiffen as his eyes fly open. Then they flutter closed and he leans in, lifting his other hand to Anders' shoulder, relaxing in to the kiss, and Bethany's breath catches in her throat. They break away, staring in each other's eyes for a long moment, and Nathaniel glances down before looking back up at Bethany, expression sheepish. "My apologies, Bethany, it won't--"
Before he can finish the sentence, she is standing, her hands framing his stubbled cheeks, and then she is kissing him, hard, her lips caressing his, her tongue darting into his mouth, and he responds, backing her up against the wall. When she pulls back they're both breathing hard, almost panting, and she takes a moment to be grateful that the bar is nearly deserted. "Or maybe," she says, winding a hand around the back of Nathaniel's neck, glancing at a smiling, flushed Anders through her eyelashes, "it will."
Nathaniel presses his forehead to hers. "Are you sure?"
She kisses him again, lightly, a touch filled with promise and desire. "Oh yes."
"In that case..." Nathaniel reaches out a hand, and Anders takes it, winding their fingers together. "Lead the way." Bethany grasps Nathaniel's other hand and pulls them both up the stairs.