We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit!
The creed of the Dalish elves was thunderously loud in Merrill’s ears as the first ropes were cinched tight about her slender wrists, and she felt her breath quicken, a deep blush spreading over her delicate alabaster features. She had done much that her clan considered forbidden in the past, both in service to their people and her own insatiable curiosity, but this… this was certainly pushing it. A second coil began looping around her elbows, pinning them tight together and keeping her arms firmly bound behind her back, yet rather than resisting as the honour of her people demanded, the elven woman patiently and compliantly submitted to the human’s touch, cataloguing each pleasurable sensation for future reference. This wasn’t the first time she’d been tied up, yet never had see imagined it could feel so good.
At least, when it was her lover responsible. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Marian Hawke, Fereldan refugee, swordmaiden, Reaver, adventurer, Lady of House Amell by reclaimed birthright and Champion of Kirkwall by strength of deed, inquired anxiously, azure blue eyes examining the Dalish woman with undisguised concern. “Tell me to stop, and we will.”
“No, it’s all right, ma vhenan, keep going,” Merrill assured her, wide green eyes alive with merriment. This was a side of Hawke that few outside her friends and companions got to see; tender, loving, patient and very kind, a far cry from the black-armoured, battle-drunk whirlwind of destruction that defeated the Arishok in single combat and dispatched hundreds of Kirkwall’s enemies over the years. Even now, naked and curled up on the bed of the lavishly decorated Amell estate, she cut a striking figure, her muscles toned from the weight of her armour and endless training with her greatsword, pale skin detailed with the scars of a hundred battles, raven-black hair cut boyishly short to reveal high cheekbones and full red lips. On the slopes of Sundermount, Merrill had seen her and was stricken, that love only deepening as she experienced Hawke’s kindness and courage and trust, and the day she first came into the human’s bed was amongst the happiness of her life.
It was all forbidden, naturally. To fall in love with a human was anathema amongst the Dalish, but much to her private shock, Merrill found herself caring about such things less and less these days. Hawke was beautiful and kind and strong and clever and for some reason, she loved Merrill; what was race compared to all that? And it wasn’t like it was the only taboo she’d broken. Falling in love with her female clanmate Maheriel had been forbidden too, never mind her use of blood magic.
So all things considered, asking Hawke to tie her up was a mere drop in the ocean compared to all she’d done before. She’d been intrigued about a particular chapter from one of the dirty novels Isabela had lent her, and as always, curiosity demanded she investigate further. More ropes secured her upper body above and below her small naked breasts, followed by coils binding her slim legs into a strict frogtie, and Hawke stepped back to examine her handiwork, the feel of those beautiful, hungry eyes upon her deepening Merrill’s blush yet further. “You’re so beautiful,” the Champion of Kirkwall whispered huskily, and Merrill moaned in pleasure as the human ran a hand along her inner thigh. “So how does it feel?”
“Snug, but not uncomfortable,” the Dalish mage expressed, petite figure straining experimentally against her bonds. That they held firm was no surprise; she wasn’t exactly a physical powerhouse, and Hawke tied the knots well because Hawke did everything well. “It actually feels like… like I’ve got strong hands wrapped around, holding me tight and safe. It’s… it’s rather nice, actually.”
“I’m glad,” Hawke expressed, leaning down to give her lover a passionate kiss. “I was worried, to be honest. I know you’re stronger than people give you credit for, Merrill, but not everything is into this sort of thing, and I was concerned you might be pushing yourself too far.” Warm breath tickled the elf’s right ear, and Merrill cooed as a hand gently ran through her dark braided hair. “Glad to see I was wrong.”
“So…” Merrill stammered, her composure weakening at her lover’s touch. “So what happens now?”
“Well, aren’t you curious to know what making love feels like when you’re bound?” Hawke asked with a teasing smile, strong arms gently laying the elf down onto the bed. “I’m certainly interested in learning myself…”