Title: At Sea
Rating: M (NSFW)
Characters: Sten/F!PC (Origin unspecified); appearances by Zevran and Oghren.
Word Count: 2500 (exactly!)
Author's Note: Someone at dragonage_kink wanted sexin's between Sten and a Fem-PC on the way to Seheron. Who was I to deny them? That's pretty much it ;-P Not beta'd on account of this being completed for a kink meme! All mistakes are my own. Apologies in advance.

At Sea

The boat wouldn't stop rocking. It felt like every other second another swell would come along, and tilt the boat in the other direction. The Warden thought that her stomach was going to twist up into a knot that could never again be undone.

Sten, for all of his stoicism and lack of patience with any show of weakness, seemed genuinely sorry for the effect that the ride was having on her. He'd even stopped dragging her out of the cabin for meals, and started bringing her trays of easily digestible (thank the Maker) foods, at least twice daily. It was a mixed blessing. She knew she should be glad for the food, but she couldn't help thinking that if she stopped eating, then surely she'd eventually pass into a coma from lack of nutrition, and she could spend the rest of the trip unconscious.

And wouldn't that just be wonderful?

This particular day though, Sten was requiring her to accomplish a bit more than just nibbling on some burnt toast. No, today he had decided she must bathe.

"It has been nearly two weeks, Kadan. You have barely left the cabin in all this time."

"I don't care, Sten!" She hiccupped through the slightly heaving sensation she was currently feeling, and tried to press the words out. "I am not leaving this bed until the boat reaches dry land again. I don't care how awful I smell!"

She couldn't see Sten's reaction to her outburst, swaddled in the (quite filthy at this point), blankets as she was, but she could quite clearly hear his heavy, put-upon sigh. (I wonder if he practices that noise? It seems too perfect to happen merely on accident...)

She was debating the virtues of tossing her boot at him in an effort to get him to leave her alone (it was really just a teeny-tiny bit too far away to make it worth her while), when she was suddenly scooped up, blankets and all, into the Qunari's arms. "Hey! What the hell -?"

"If you will not bathe yourself, Kadan. Then I will do it for you." The whole world lurched around her, and whether it was from the boat rocking (again) or from Sten moving them at a brusk pace towards the wash room located at the end of the hall from their cabin, she really couldn't say.

She struggled in his arms during the move, but only succeeded in twisting herself up within the blankets further. Her cries and complaints muffled by the cloth. All too soon she felt them pass through a door, which was swiftly yanked closed behind them. A moment later, she was dumped unceremoniously into an extremely cold basin of salt water.

"AHH! Why you absolute basta-!" She tumbled, face first, out of the blankets, and into the water. Sten yanked the things from off and around her, and tossed them to the side, unraveling her in the process. She scrambled to find purchase on the bottom of the slippery wooden tub, and pushed herself up out of the water (which, admittedly wasn't very deep) and cursed the fact that the vessel they were own was luxurious enough to have such a room (when they boarded, she had been singing its praises – oh, how the world can change on a hairpin). She broke the surface, her hair splattered across her forehead and face. The angry scowl that she had firmly in place began to retreat at the sight of Sten: he was as soaked as she was, just from her struggle. Well good. Served him right.

The scowl returned quicker than her nausea (which had somehow miraculously been forgotten for the moment) when Sten produced a bar of soap from somewhere (she really had no clue, nor was she about to ask) and a very, very rough looking square of cloth.

He dunked both items into the basin, and she unconsciously scrambled towards the back of the tub (about two inches away from the front – the thing was just small). To her chagrin (and Sten's amusement if the raised eyebrow was anything to go by), her fight or flight response had been firmly switched over to 'flight.'

A moment later his hands withdrew from the water and he began scrubbing her down – starting with her hair – with the awful cloth. "Hey watch it! Ow! Where the hell did you even find that thing? Is that one of Zev's torture devices that you stole? Haven't you ever heard of cotton?" And on and on she went, until Sten pressed down on her head with one hand and dunked her under the water.

She came up spluttering. He waited for her to spit out all of the water she had begun to choke on, before he turned her slightly, and began scrubbing at her back. "Silence is a virtue, Kadan."

"I hate you."

"No. You don't."

She sighed. "Okay, fine. But I'm very unhappy with you right now."

"That I do believe."

It was at that moment that it occurred to her exactly what was happening. She was in a makeshift bath, and Sten...wasbathing her. Granted she was at least partially clothed, but her soaking wet nightshift left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and – she glanced down – yes, her nipples were in point of fact, standing quite proudly at attention. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, despite the frigidity of the water. Every few seconds, she could feel the skin of his fingers ghosting across her arms, just behind the cloth that they held. He swiped it over the back of her shoulders, and under the shift to get to the skin of her back. Each pass seemed to take longer as he went, the pressure less rough. It left a tingling sensation in its wake.

"Turn." Had his voice always been that deep? She swallowed, and complied.

There was something different in his gaze when she met it this time. She was use to many looks from Sten. She thought she had very nearly cataloged them all (it was a game between her, Zevran, and Oghren at camp – attempting to produce new and interesting expressions on the Qunari's face). But this, this was something different. There was heat in it, but not the heat of anger, or battle as she had seen oft enough. The lids of his eyes looked heavy, the pupils dilated.

She couldn't tear herself away.

He continued the process of cleaning her. Only this time, neither of them said a word. It was obvious that she was perfectly capable of completing the task on her own, so why didn't he offer her the cloth? Why didn't she ask for it?

His hand disappeared into the now tepid water, and she let loose a tiny gasp as she felt it swipe over her thigh, and down her calf. Back and forth, back and forth.

Warmth flooded her, and her breathing began to come in quick, short gasps, as his over-large hand moved from outer to inner thigh. Taking far longer than was necessary to complete the task. Her breath and heart stopped entirely, as once, and only once, his hand passed over the cotton covering her sex.

Not once did he look away. The fact that he appeared to be holding his breath gave her some measure of confidence. She nodded ever so slightly, and she heard a low growl issue forth from him. The response in her body at the sound was immediate, and she arched into the hand cupping her loosely.

The cloth was forgotten, dropped into the dregs of the tub, never to be seen nor heard from again; but his hand remained. Stroking her at first, over the cloth of her smallclothes. She leaned towards him, her head hanging forward somewhat, eyes still locked on his oh so bright ones, as he continued to touch her; his breath now coming in slow, controlled breaths. She wanted so much to move, to force his hand exactly where she wanted it, but she was frightened. Scared that if she moved he would stop, and this would all be over before it had even begun.

The moment that one long, thick finger worked its way beneath the cloth, and pressed down on the spot that was so crying out for his attention, however, her fear evaporated to be replaced by the exquisite sensation of pleasure. Her voice was breathy and didn't quite feel like her own when she moaned out his name. Something in him seemed to snap at the sound, and his other hand - the one that had been grasping her thigh unmoving for several seconds - reached around the back of her and pulled her forward and up; the hand between her thighs slipped from her body as he yanked her out of the tub and onto his lap.

And that? Right there? That was another entirely new look for her to catalog on Sten. One that she could only catalog as possession.

The room was small, and there was barely enough room between the tub and the door for him to sit, but somehow they managed. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled her into a searing, biting kiss. The growl in his throat grew louder with each passing second; and the wetness pooling in her body down below became even more pronounced. She struggled against him, not to move away, but to reach some of his skin, which was entirely too covered at the moment. He helped her along somewhat by yanking at the top of her shift, ripping the cloth, and taking a swollen nipple into his mouth. Teeth and lips swirling around the areola, and making her arch and moan into him like a cat. One hand still held her to him, wrapped entirely around her small frame, and the other...the other had found its way between her legs once more, one lone digit sliding into her with calculated strokes.

The angle was awkward, and hard to manage, but she didn't care. Her mouth latched onto his shoulder (slightly revealed thanks to her struggles with his shirt), and she bite down on the skin she found there, earning another deep rumble from him. The tempo of his hand's movement between her legs increased, and a second over-sized finger joined the first, moving in a scissoring motion that made her cry out. From pain, pleasure – she could hardly tell anymore.

But still, she needed more. Had to get to more of him. Wanted to make him feel what she was feeling. Wanted to make his concentration break, and his breathing hitch, and... "Sten!"

He growled in response, and met her mouth again with his own.

As their tongues battled, she reached down, and yanked at the ties to his breeches. Her hand delved down into their confines to find him: hard, and long, and oh dear, Maker! Could this even work? Being kossith, he was so much larger than her in every aspect, and she suddenly wasn't certain if this would even be possible.

He stilled when her hand wrapped around him, for only a moment, and pulled back; his eyes the most vibrant violet she had ever seen. His fingers slipped from inside of her, leaving her feeling empty and desperate. A moment later his hands gripped her hips and shifted her up. He moved the cloth of her smallclothes further to the side, and she realized what the repositioning had all been about.

She felt the tip of him resting just at her entrance, and her hands came back to splay at his chest. Both of them held their breath. "Kadan?"

There was no doubt or reservation in his voice, he was as well-controlled as ever. But she could feel it finally – the want to lose control – in the tension of his arms and in his neck as he held her, just a hairsbreadth from where they both wanted her to be. That want was the final straw for her. She leaned forward and gripped his bottom lip between her teeth, and gave him a rough, biting kiss.

She very nearly exploded as he thrust up into her; one long, fast stroke that made her feel like she was coming apart at the seams.

His hands gripped her tightly at the hips, moving her up and down; each stroke of him within her bringing them closer to the pleasure they both sought.

But oh! How he filled her, it was like nothing she'd every quite felt before. She found herself kissing and biting at every single inch of skin she could find. Her nails racked open tiny trails across his shoulders, back, chest – even the door behind them did not go unscathed as she clawed, and he thrust. His lips sucked at every part of her he could reach, leaving little welts in their wake, as with each upstroke their movements, and their breathing, became more erratic.

And finally, finally when she felt like stars were bursting behind her eyes, and her insides were raw, and she wanted nothing more than for this to go on forever or to stop entirely so that she could remember how it felt to breath; finally just as she could tell that he was losing every ounce of control he had, and his own vocalizations were getting louder, and she thought that nothing could every feel like this again; finally just as that was all happening, and their pace was hitting levels she hadn't previously known could exist...the door broke. Gave way behind them, sending Sten sprawling backwards partially into the hallway, and impaling her further onto him. Unable to stop, he arched up into her. His fingers digging into the skin of her hips, an animalistic sound pouring forth from him, as she pressed further down, his name a mantra on her lips – and they both found their release.

When his panting began to subside, and her labored breath was finally coming under control, she glanced up – right into the eyes of Zevran and Oghren, who were staring down at the pair of them with the most lascivious cat-who-ate-the-canary grins on their faces.

"I believe, Oghren my fine dwarven friend, that you owe me two sovereigns." Zevran's eyes nearly twinkled as he took in the sight, but the Warden couldn't find the energy to even care.

The red-head nodded in agreement, his wide-eyed gaze focused entirely on Sten and the Warden still wrapped around him on the floor. "Aye. And never before has a bit of coin been better spent."

She had learned several new faces of Sten this day. If the look upon his face as he glared at the duo before them was any indication, she was about to learn at least one more.

~End