Fortune Favors The Bold

"Anders! What are you doing here?"

He looked at her, his brows knitting in puzzlement. "The same thing we do every morning. I bring up some breakfast, we talk about darkspawn, we go out and kill darkspawn, Oghren loses his pants and falls over drunk… you know, the usual."

"Yes, but you're…" Solona turned an unusual shade of pink. "Well, you aren't so much in your typical attire." She knew she was sputtering, but really! How was she supposed to react to that?

"What, this?" Anders turned around slowly, the view of his long, lean back and his—sweet Andraste's mercy, she could scarcely think the word—okay, his ass… making her more than sure that she was going to combust from embarrassment on the spot. It was bad enough that she caught a glimpse of his, well, other bits as he turned. Her cheeks were on fire as she forced her eyes up from his—not going there—barely covered lower regions to his face.

"Yes, that!" Her voice came out as a squeak and she was positive that he was holding in a laugh.

He held out his hands in mock supplication. "I didn't have a choice. The girl who came to take the laundry last night took all my robes. I hunted through my drawers and all I could find was this handkerchief. So, I did what I could. I didn't think I did too badly, all things considered."

Solona glanced down at the makeshift loincloth that Anders had constructed, trying not to focus on the… bulge beneath. "Couldn't you have, I don't know, borrowed something from Nathaniel? Or Oghren? Or… anybody? I'm sure I have something you could use a toga or something?"

"Nah, I'm fine. My robes should be back by the time we're done breakfast. Besides, we grew up together, remember? Best buddies!" He slugged her playfully on the shoulder. "No big deal, right?"

"Uh… sure. No big deal." She could do this. It was just Anders. She could just not look at his, er, big deal, they would eat, and then he would go put on some bloody clothes and she would forget this had ever happened.

Maker. Maker, Maker, Maker…

"Great!" He beamed at her. "Shall we eat?"

"Okay." How was it possible that her voice was getting even squeakier? How was he not noticing?

They sat down in the two plush chairs near the window, a low table with two heavily-laden trays between them. Solona stared resolutely at her food, her eyes flicking over periodically to admire the ripple of muscles in his chest—No! Not admiring! Just looking, dammit… What else was she supposed to look at? His… Gah! No! No! No!

Anders chattered away happily, seemingly oblivious.

So she'd had a crush on him back at the Tower… so what? They were colleagues now. Professionals. If he'd been interested in her, he would have done something by now. She had caught him and Sigrun giggling together in the pantry yesterday, after all. Having him here, in her room, basically naked, was just cruel. Solona made a mental note to accidentally set the statue of Andraste in the courtyard on fire sometime soon. Take that.

She was moping now, repeatedly stabbing her fork into the slab of ham that was left on her plate.

"Are you going to eat that?"

"Am I—I'm sorry. What?"

"That." He pointed at her plate.

She shook her head. "Go ahead."

"Thanks!" Anders speared the slice on his fork and devoured it in a matter of moments. He sat back—not looking!—and wiped his face on his napkin. "Much better! So, what's the plan for today?"

Fucking.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" She forced her eyes to his with an embarrassed shrug.

"Are you okay? You seem a little… off this morning. Do you want me to check you over?" He leaned forward with a look of tender concern.

Oh, yes, check me over… all over…

"What? Sorry?" She was turning red again, she could feel the color searing through her skin.

"You're scaring me. Come lie down and let me have a look."

"On the bed?" She was evidently squeaking again, too. Great.

"Unless you want to lie down on the floor, then yes. Come on." He hauled her up by the arm and steered her towards the bed.

"I'm okay! Really! I don't need you to—"

"I don't mind. It will only take a minute. Lie down."

With a shaky breath, Solona crawled up onto the bed and lay down. "All right."

Anders leaned over her and she made the mistake of turning her head. The view made her tremble. At this height she was basically at eye level with the not-so-insignificant contents of his loincloth, the fabric draping over everything in such a way as to leave almost nothing to the imagination. Not that she'd ever imagined… okay, maybe a little.

"Your face is flushed and you're shivering. Are you having chills? Any muscle aches at all?" Anders pressed his cheek to her forehead to check her temperature and she was instantly overwhelmed with the scent of the bergamot soap that she knew he loved. The scrape of his stubble against her skin would have made her knees weak had she been standing.

"No," she whispered.

"Well, let me take a look then. Try and relax."

Yeah. Right.

She managed to close her eyes, able to breathe a little easier now that she wasn't watching his deliciously muscled thighs. Anders fingertips grazed her temples and she felt the first tendrils of his magic trickle into her. It was exquisite, and it took everything she had to keep her own magic from surging up to meet his in response. Forcing herself to lie still was almost agony, warmth pooling in her body that felt like him. She allowed herself a quick peek; Anders' eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even as he concentrated. Her gaze dropped to the loincloth. If she tilted her head ever so slightly, she could probably see his… No. She shouldn't.

Although, he would never know…

Fine. Just one little, tiny, itsy bitsy look. That's it.

Solona shifted her head the smallest fraction to the right, peering just around the edge of where the cloth draped down over his groin.

Wow. Just… wow. There were no words.

"You like what you see?" Anders voice was husky in her ear.

Oh.

Holy.

Maker.

"I-wasn't-looking. My-eyes-were-closed-the-whole-time."

"Solona."

"I-didn't-mean-to. I'm-clearly-very-sick. You-should-go-before-you-catch-this."

"Solona."

"I'm-so-sorry. Please-don't-hate-me."

Anders crouched down so that his face was even with hers. "Solona. Look at me."

"Why? So you can make fun of me? Go ahead. I deserve it." She couldn't help it; a sob clawed up her throat.

"Don't cry! Please, don't cry!" Anders somehow pushed her over, crawling over to sit on the bed and scooping her into his lap. "This wasn't supposed to happen!" She barely registered the fact that she was curled up on his bare chest and then, suddenly, he was stroking her hair. "I'm sorry. I told Sigrun this was a dumb idea. Later, we can both turn her into a toad, or make her sit next to Oghren the next time he starts drinking that ale that smells like unwashed goats."

Sniffing, Solona turned her head up to look at him. "You… did this on purpose? Why?"

Anders blushed. "I've had a thing for you for a long time, but I didn't think you were interested in me in that way. But, then Sigrun cornered me and threatened me within an inch of my life, telling me that it was sodding obvious that you liked me and would never make a move without me doing something… er, extreme."

"Why didn't you just make the first move then?" She cuddled in closer, determine to savor this moment for whatever it was worth.

"I did! What do you think this was?"

"A chance for you to parade around mostly naked?" She felt bolder now, with his admission.

"Only in front of you."

Her heart was thrumming in her chest, but there was no going back now and she certainly had no desire to. "So, Sigrun thought this would force me into making the first move, did she?"

"Yes?"

She took a deep breath. "All right then." One first move, coming up. She reached down beneath her and yanked the loincloth aside, grabbing him in hand.

"Andraste's flaming knickerweasels!" Anders flinched in surprise, but he was rapidly hardening as she stroked him tentatively. "That's, uh, quite the first move you've got there."

"Should I stop?" His almost instantaneous response to her touch made her feel daring enough to wink at him.

"No!" His voice was strangled and high-pitched.

"How come your voice is all squeaky like that?"

"That's it, you minx. You asked for it." He shoved her out of his lap and rolled on top of her, pinning her hands above her head. "I'm going to ravish you until you're so exhausted that you can't move."

"Mmm… is that a promise?" She wriggled up against his groin, making him groan.

"Oh, yes." He claimed her mouth with his, and she was lost in a swirl of desire. Her last coherent thought was that she owed Sigrun big time.

Maybe she could convince Nathaniel to wear the loincloth for her… she'd seen the way they'd both been making eyes at each other…

"What are you snickering at? Generally, when I do this, there's a lot more moaning and definitely no laughing." Anders was looking at her with a slight pout.

"Nothing. I'll tell you later. Now, where were we…"

She kissed him passionately and, this time, she didn't stop.

A/N: This is for the incredibly wonderful Josie Lange, both for her birthday (Yay! Happy Birthday!) and as a reward for her guessing abilities in the CMDA Secret Santa Fic Exchange. I hope you have a fantastic day, Josie!

This story was based on a sketch that I was... encouraged to produce. ;) If you want to see Anders in his loincloth, you can find it here (just remove the spaces): ht tp:/bunnygirl1022. deviantart. com/#/d4inhpo