Loghain was never really hers - Cauthrien accepted the fact as she watched him walk around in Warden armor, a man with a new purpose. He had always belonged to Ferelden first and foremost, even when he hadn't. For a moment, Cauthrien let her mind wander, thinking about what it must be like for him to learn this new role after being so fierce a guardian dedicated to a world entirely different. Though her former general would not like the thought, he was probably feeling much the same as his new son-in-law at the moment.
Across the room, the Warden Mahariel eyed King Alistair with unabashed regret. Their affair may be over, but it was plain that she still had feelings for him. Ser Cauthrien watched the elven woman as she navigated the court, with plenty of well-wishers hanging onto her, desperate for Alistair to return her gaze. He did not even glance in her direction, despite several opportunities. If Loghain could find a mirror in Alistair, then Cauthrien saw some of herself in Mahariel. The thought was unsettling.
Her gaze must scorched, because the Warden looked over at her and their eyes locked. It was a shared moment with someone whom she wished no connection, and Cauthrien broke away first. She had nothing to say to her, even if Loghain did still draw breath and the Blight had been declared over. It had cost too much.
But didn't Mahariel have cause to think the same as she? Her gut clenched as she recognized another unwanted similarity between her and the elf.
For days, the two of them interacted but didn't speak. They were in close quarters in the castle together, but neither of their jobs necessitated direct confrontation. Cauthrien was glad of it - they'd seen enough of each other before. It still made shame well in her when she thought of how the Warden spoke to her outside the Landsmeet chamber, when she admitted that Loghain had gone astray. Had she known the outcome of that meeting, that he would become one of her instruments, Cauthrien might have fought the Warden and prevented her from going in. Not that there wasn't honor in being a Warden, but to her, there just wasn't enough. Not for Loghain, a man already a hero. What did he need to defeat Blights for when he had already driven out conquerors and brought independence to the land?
It surprised her to find the Warden in the stables one night. It was a place where Cauthrien went whenever her active mind wouldn't settle enough to let her body rest. Her melodic voice was singing, quiet but loud against the silence of night, as she turned ungainly Dalish words into something elegant. She surprised herself by listening, leaning against a wooden beam, arms folded as she watched the Warden tend to a horse, singing all the while.
Mahariel's song seemed to soothe the animals, who were calm as she tended to them. Careful hands worked in a way that suggested she'd taken care of the horses many times before, and Cauthrien wondered why she'd never run into her. Perhaps the Warden had wanted to avoid her, or maybe it was the other way around. Before she could give it proper thought, the singing stopped.
Her steps were soundless and quick as she approached, and had she not been watching, Cauthrien wouldn't have known she was there. She moves like an Orlesian bard, a voice in Cauthrien's mind sneered, and she tried hard not to notice how much her inner monologue sounded like Loghain.
Violet eyes met with her own once again, but neither of them spoke. Instead of talking, Mahariel covered Ser Cauthrien's hand in both of her own, the slightly smaller fingers covering hers. No one ever touched her, not like that. There were the rough shoves from her men, the genial slaps and bumps that soldiers gave each other in passing, but not anywhere as intimate or simple as this. Between them was understanding, not friendship but something deeper - kindred. The realization jolted through her, sending arcs of blue-hot pain down her spine, stiffening her body as she tried not to cry.
Cauthrien bent her head towards Mahariel, taking in the pine scent that seemed to follow the woman, even as she stood amongst the horses. Her chin tipped up towards Cauthrien, their mouths meeting. She was unexpectedly harsh, her lips greedy as she and Cauthrien kissed - their long awaited confrontation. Teeth scraping against lips, tongues fighting the other, chests heaving as both fought to pull in air and keep kissing the other. She felt a pull on her ponytail, forcing her head back as Mahariel ran teeth over her chin and jaw, coaxing a low groan from Cauthrien as she did. Never one to be outdone, Cauthrien redirected and bit the Warden's generous lower lip, enough to feel her start as pleasure and pain bloomed together as one.
She'd expected it to become less intense, but it didn't. As if neither wanted to give in first, they both held on, kissing wildly until they couldn't any longer. Cauthrien wasn't sure if she'd won or lost, but there really were no winners and losers in this, only the people left standing. They broke apart, Mahariel still standing too close to her, the rhythm of her breathing in tandem with her own.
"What was that for?" Mahariel asked, even though Cauthrien would bet everything she had that the woman already knew why and had manipulated the when. She answered anyway.
"It's for what we both have lost." She said simply, shrugging as if the answer was obvious. "What we'll never get back."
Mahariel nodded, carefully, slowly as she thought about it. "I had hoped it was more."
"So did I." Cauthrien replied. Until the words were out of her mouth, she hadn't realized that they were true.
Lust and want didn't come easily to her, she'd long since learned to repress them, but she could want Mahariel if she gave herself the latitude. But nothing in her could get past the Warden blues the elf wore so proudly, and the last few months on opposite sides weren't so easily forgotten. Whatever reckoning had been brewing between the two of them was lost between their lips, and Cauthrien allowed herself to be kissed one last time before letting it go for good. She watched with unseeing eyes as the Warden left the stables, leaving her alone.
What We Both Have Lost - F!Mahariel/Cauthrien, T
Across the room, the Warden Mahariel eyed King Alistair with unabashed regret. Their affair may be over, but it was plain that she still had feelings for him. Ser Cauthrien watched the elven woman as she navigated the court, with plenty of well-wishers hanging onto her, desperate for Alistair to return her gaze. He did not even glance in her direction, despite several opportunities. If Loghain could find a mirror in Alistair, then Cauthrien saw some of herself in Mahariel. The thought was unsettling.
Her gaze must scorched, because the Warden looked over at her and their eyes locked. It was a shared moment with someone whom she wished no connection, and Cauthrien broke away first. She had nothing to say to her, even if Loghain did still draw breath and the Blight had been declared over. It had cost too much.
But didn't Mahariel have cause to think the same as she? Her gut clenched as she recognized another unwanted similarity between her and the elf.
For days, the two of them interacted but didn't speak. They were in close quarters in the castle together, but neither of their jobs necessitated direct confrontation. Cauthrien was glad of it - they'd seen enough of each other before. It still made shame well in her when she thought of how the Warden spoke to her outside the Landsmeet chamber, when she admitted that Loghain had gone astray. Had she known the outcome of that meeting, that he would become one of her instruments, Cauthrien might have fought the Warden and prevented her from going in. Not that there wasn't honor in being a Warden, but to her, there just wasn't enough. Not for Loghain, a man already a hero. What did he need to defeat Blights for when he had already driven out conquerors and brought independence to the land?
It surprised her to find the Warden in the stables one night. It was a place where Cauthrien went whenever her active mind wouldn't settle enough to let her body rest. Her melodic voice was singing, quiet but loud against the silence of night, as she turned ungainly Dalish words into something elegant. She surprised herself by listening, leaning against a wooden beam, arms folded as she watched the Warden tend to a horse, singing all the while.
Mahariel's song seemed to soothe the animals, who were calm as she tended to them. Careful hands worked in a way that suggested she'd taken care of the horses many times before, and Cauthrien wondered why she'd never run into her. Perhaps the Warden had wanted to avoid her, or maybe it was the other way around. Before she could give it proper thought, the singing stopped.
Her steps were soundless and quick as she approached, and had she not been watching, Cauthrien wouldn't have known she was there. She moves like an Orlesian bard, a voice in Cauthrien's mind sneered, and she tried hard not to notice how much her inner monologue sounded like Loghain.
Violet eyes met with her own once again, but neither of them spoke. Instead of talking, Mahariel covered Ser Cauthrien's hand in both of her own, the slightly smaller fingers covering hers. No one ever touched her, not like that. There were the rough shoves from her men, the genial slaps and bumps that soldiers gave each other in passing, but not anywhere as intimate or simple as this. Between them was understanding, not friendship but something deeper - kindred. The realization jolted through her, sending arcs of blue-hot pain down her spine, stiffening her body as she tried not to cry.
Cauthrien bent her head towards Mahariel, taking in the pine scent that seemed to follow the woman, even as she stood amongst the horses. Her chin tipped up towards Cauthrien, their mouths meeting. She was unexpectedly harsh, her lips greedy as she and Cauthrien kissed - their long awaited confrontation. Teeth scraping against lips, tongues fighting the other, chests heaving as both fought to pull in air and keep kissing the other. She felt a pull on her ponytail, forcing her head back as Mahariel ran teeth over her chin and jaw, coaxing a low groan from Cauthrien as she did. Never one to be outdone, Cauthrien redirected and bit the Warden's generous lower lip, enough to feel her start as pleasure and pain bloomed together as one.
She'd expected it to become less intense, but it didn't. As if neither wanted to give in first, they both held on, kissing wildly until they couldn't any longer. Cauthrien wasn't sure if she'd won or lost, but there really were no winners and losers in this, only the people left standing. They broke apart, Mahariel still standing too close to her, the rhythm of her breathing in tandem with her own.
"What was that for?" Mahariel asked, even though Cauthrien would bet everything she had that the woman already knew why and had manipulated the when. She answered anyway.
"It's for what we both have lost." She said simply, shrugging as if the answer was obvious. "What we'll never get back."
Mahariel nodded, carefully, slowly as she thought about it. "I had hoped it was more."
"So did I." Cauthrien replied. Until the words were out of her mouth, she hadn't realized that they were true.
Lust and want didn't come easily to her, she'd long since learned to repress them, but she could want Mahariel if she gave herself the latitude. But nothing in her could get past the Warden blues the elf wore so proudly, and the last few months on opposite sides weren't so easily forgotten. Whatever reckoning had been brewing between the two of them was lost between their lips, and Cauthrien allowed herself to be kissed one last time before letting it go for good. She watched with unseeing eyes as the Warden left the stables, leaving her alone.
There was nothing left but the future now.