“What are you doing?!” Farengar demanded, his sea green eyes searching Therion’s face.
“Looking at you,” Therion said simply, using his free hand to tilt the wizard’s face from side to side.
Farengar struggled against the mer’s grip, but his arms were like iron, and he could not drop the potion in his right hand. He glared daggers at Therion, trying to ignore the sensations the mer stirred in him. Locking his gaze on the other man’s amber eyes, he tried to ignore the handsome features of the mer’s high cheek bones, gold lips, and intelligent eyes, searching his own for something unknown to him. Even his hair seemed absurdly handsome, framing his face with elegant, dark, golden curls. As he struggled against the Dragonborn, he wondered, despite himself, what those lips felt like. Therion moved closer, as if he might kiss him at any moment. Farengar’s heart raced in his chest, but he kept his face a mask of irritation and distaste, hoping the Dragonborn could not feel its beats.
“As I thought,” Therion said, his warm breath making Farengar’s head spin.
“What?” Farengar demanded, wishing Therion would either let go or pull him closer and take him. Truly, he could not tell which he wanted, as his head spun.
Therion leaned close, whispering seductively in the wizard’s ear. “You’re actually quite handsome, Farengar.”
The wizard could not help shuddering at the softly spoken words. “You bastard,” he replied. “Did you not just claim you would not try to take advantage of my situation? And now you’re trying to entice me? Why do you mock me?!”
Therion flashed one of his usual grins.
“I said I wouldn’t take advantage of you, I never said I wouldn’t tease you,” the Dragonborn replied, admiring the wizard’s face in his grip. “Though I was quite serious when I called you handsome. Curious, why you refuse to believe me. How might I convince you of the truth, I wonder?” he asked with a dark grin, pulling Farengar’s chin closer.
The wizard’s breath caught in his throat as the mer moved to kiss him. Therion paused, his slender ears perking up, causing the three, tiny, silver rings in his ear to bounce.
“Damn,” Therion whispered. “I may kill that woman myself.”
He released Farengar’s face and ushered him into his bed chamber as the door to Dragonsreach opened.
Farengar gave him a questioning look.
“A woman approaches. I imagine it’s Arcadia. Perhaps with a silly story that this is all some misunderstanding? While she subtly twirls her hair and smiles at you? No matter. She’ll not get what she wants,” Therion said, closing the door.
“Stay away from me,” Farengar said suddenly, moving away, as a demanding warmth racked his body. “I fear I may not be wholly capable of constraining myself much longer.”
“Here,” Therion said, pointing to the chair at the wizard’s desk. “Sit.”
Farengar sat and watched as the Dragonborn opened his pack, removing a length of rope.
“What are you intending on doing?” Farengar asked with distrust.
“I should think that much was obvious. Or would you rather take your chances, with your body overriding your sensibilities? I could let Arcadia in and-”
“Very well,” Farengar said with an exasperated sigh, putting his hands behind the chair. “Place my palms together or I’ll burn my way through the ropes.”
Therion tied the mage’s hands and then encircled his chest.
“You seem suspiciously familiar with how to secure someone in such a manner,” Farengar said, trying to sound indifferent.
“I have a fascinating night job, when I’m not playing hero,” Therion said with a smirk. “It wouldn’t fit well in the Dragonborn ballads, however, so please don’t inquire further.”
“Farengar?”
They both looked toward the door, hearing Arcadia calling.
“I’ll deal with her,” Therion whispered.
The wizard nodded.
“Before I go… sorry for this,” Therion said softly.
“Sorry for wh-” Farengar began, but was interrupted by a cloth being forced in his mouth. He yelled something incomprehensible as Therion gagged him.
“I’ve had this delightful potion once myself,” Therion said, his eyes dark and angry at the recalled memory, “And very soon you’ll be shouting as the effects grow worse. Best to avoid anyone else finding you like this, no?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Re: Fire and Potions - 3/?
Date: 2014-06-22 08:32 pm (UTC)“Looking at you,” Therion said simply, using his free hand to tilt the wizard’s face from side to side.
Farengar struggled against the mer’s grip, but his arms were like iron, and he could not drop the potion in his right hand. He glared daggers at Therion, trying to ignore the sensations the mer stirred in him. Locking his gaze on the other man’s amber eyes, he tried to ignore the handsome features of the mer’s high cheek bones, gold lips, and intelligent eyes, searching his own for something unknown to him. Even his hair seemed absurdly handsome, framing his face with elegant, dark, golden curls. As he struggled against the Dragonborn, he wondered, despite himself, what those lips felt like. Therion moved closer, as if he might kiss him at any moment. Farengar’s heart raced in his chest, but he kept his face a mask of irritation and distaste, hoping the Dragonborn could not feel its beats.
“As I thought,” Therion said, his warm breath making Farengar’s head spin.
“What?” Farengar demanded, wishing Therion would either let go or pull him closer and take him. Truly, he could not tell which he wanted, as his head spun.
Therion leaned close, whispering seductively in the wizard’s ear. “You’re actually quite handsome, Farengar.”
The wizard could not help shuddering at the softly spoken words. “You bastard,” he replied. “Did you not just claim you would not try to take advantage of my situation? And now you’re trying to entice me? Why do you mock me?!”
Therion flashed one of his usual grins.
“I said I wouldn’t take advantage of you, I never said I wouldn’t tease you,” the Dragonborn replied, admiring the wizard’s face in his grip. “Though I was quite serious when I called you handsome. Curious, why you refuse to believe me. How might I convince you of the truth, I wonder?” he asked with a dark grin, pulling Farengar’s chin closer.
The wizard’s breath caught in his throat as the mer moved to kiss him. Therion paused, his slender ears perking up, causing the three, tiny, silver rings in his ear to bounce.
“Damn,” Therion whispered. “I may kill that woman myself.”
He released Farengar’s face and ushered him into his bed chamber as the door to Dragonsreach opened.
Farengar gave him a questioning look.
“A woman approaches. I imagine it’s Arcadia. Perhaps with a silly story that this is all some misunderstanding? While she subtly twirls her hair and smiles at you? No matter. She’ll not get what she wants,” Therion said, closing the door.
“Stay away from me,” Farengar said suddenly, moving away, as a demanding warmth racked his body. “I fear I may not be wholly capable of constraining myself much longer.”
“Here,” Therion said, pointing to the chair at the wizard’s desk. “Sit.”
Farengar sat and watched as the Dragonborn opened his pack, removing a length of rope.
“What are you intending on doing?” Farengar asked with distrust.
“I should think that much was obvious. Or would you rather take your chances, with your body overriding your sensibilities? I could let Arcadia in and-”
“Very well,” Farengar said with an exasperated sigh, putting his hands behind the chair. “Place my palms together or I’ll burn my way through the ropes.”
Therion tied the mage’s hands and then encircled his chest.
“You seem suspiciously familiar with how to secure someone in such a manner,” Farengar said, trying to sound indifferent.
“I have a fascinating night job, when I’m not playing hero,” Therion said with a smirk. “It wouldn’t fit well in the Dragonborn ballads, however, so please don’t inquire further.”
“Farengar?”
They both looked toward the door, hearing Arcadia calling.
“I’ll deal with her,” Therion whispered.
The wizard nodded.
“Before I go… sorry for this,” Therion said softly.
“Sorry for wh-” Farengar began, but was interrupted by a cloth being forced in his mouth. He yelled something incomprehensible as Therion gagged him.
“I’ve had this delightful potion once myself,” Therion said, his eyes dark and angry at the recalled memory, “And very soon you’ll be shouting as the effects grow worse. Best to avoid anyone else finding you like this, no?”