Pride, Wolf and Rebellion

Those

The carriage rattled to Crestwood, knocking its wooden wheels into nearly every groove and hole in the coarse trail on the way north of Lake Calenhad.

Fen'Asha decided to sit as far as possible from Solas. She needed to focus. She knew she had trouble to confront, in more ways than one, and she knew she needed every ounce of her intellectual capacity. At the very least, she needed to be sharp enough to fool enough people into believing that she was sharp enough. It was a dreadful web.

Last night had been rough and sleep was fleeting. She did all she could to contain herself, contain the passions that were blistering to the surface. She had things to consider, business to attend to, books to read, excuses to make, Solas to kiss...

The consideration made her shudder and she clutched a book that declared to explore the mesmerizing antiquity of Caer Bronach, with a "special section underscoring the role of the stand taken by Ser Crestwood." The volume was supposed to be fascinating. It wasn't.

By the second day, the silence in the carriage was deafening.

Sera groaned, coughed, even belched – anything to break the agonizing stillness.

"Something wrong?" asked Fen'Asha.

"Of course not," Sera said.

Fen'Asha returned to her book. Ser Crestwood was opening the gates, signaling a truce with a flag, challenging all the Orlesians to a duel. It was supposed to be exhilarating.

Sera coughed, counted her fingers, fidgeted, exhaled noisily.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Fen'Asha closed her book.

"Me? Perfectly fine. Not bored to fucking tears or anything."

"Well," Fen'Asha said. "You could..." She looked around, hoping for a flash of inspiration.

"Yes, yes," Sera said, leaning forward. "You could..."

"You could draw something?"

"Like what? Varric's butt? Done that."

Fen'Asha looked around again, catching Varric's wandering eyes.

"I could draw you," said Sera. "Yeah, I could draw you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you." Sera was smirking.

"Why me?"

"You got those," Sera said, pointing at Fen'Asha's chest.

"These?"

"Those."

Varric's wandering eyes blinked quickly and Cassandra shifted in her seat.

Fen'Asha chuckled, the road's seedy muse taking her. She pulled herself up, the book slipping to the floor of the carriage. "I guess I could be your subject."

Sera fiddled for her supplies. "Great."

Fen'Asha swung her legs over Varric's lap, let her blonde tresses loose and tossed them back, unbuttoned her top, pushed those out.

"Oh, that's bloody fantastic," Sera said. She chortled noisily, putting lead to vellum.

Varric's wandering eyes locked in on Fen'Asha's breasts. "That's..."

"Maybe lean forward a little," said Sera.

Fen'Asha did as she was told, pushing her breasts closer to Varric's large cranium.

"I..." said the dwarf.

"More," said Sera.

Soon, Varric's head was all but pressed between Fen'Asha's plump breasts and the temperature in the carriage had risen considerably.