So I left this comment about Post-It notes on Ch.23 of Josie Lange's awesome 'Retribution' (check it out! her story, I mean), and in her reply she said, "I certainly hope they don't get paper cuts from all that hanky panky on Varel's desk. Those hurt on fingers; I'd hate to think of how much they would hurt elsewhere."
Evil Muse: *poke* Pause. *poke* Pause. *SLAP*
Thus, with Josie's kind permission: Lhiannon is the creation of Josie Lange. Loghain and Dragon Age belong to BioWare. I am the puppet of Evil Muse.
Paperwork
.
"This is all your fault, you know." Lhiannon and Loghain spoke simultaneously, and then met each others' eyes. Loghain's glare turned into a wince, and Lhiannon tried with marginal success to look more sympathetic than amused.
"This is what comes of utilizing the closest available flat surface to have your wicked way with me." She smirked and reached down to cup healing fingers around his injury.
"This is what comes of having two thirds of all the papers in the Keep strewn over your desk," he retorted, relaxing as her magic washed over him. "Maker's bloody arse, I've taken swords through the ribs that hurt less than that."
"Paper cut to the balls," Lhiannon mused, "Who'd have thought? Note to self: be sure the dramatic sweep of the desktop actually clears everything away prior to rolling around naked."
Loghain growled. "Kindly refrain from mentioning the word 'Note' in my presence for the rest of the night," and pulled her close.
"Mmm." She nibbled at his collarbone and snickered at a sudden thought. "It could have been worse."
"I shudder to think. How, pray?"
"You could have needed Anders to heal it."
"Madam." Loghain ceased his contemplation of the "hcaerb eht tuoba niaga etaN ot klaT" imprinted on Lhiannon's backside.
"I would sooner lose it to gangrene."