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“The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 7j/7

[(Anonymous)]

Farengar carried her to his room, kicking the door shut behind them. The light filtering under the door was the only illumination. Farengar let Olria down. He leaned close, one elbow resting on the wall by her head. Olria felt her heart quicken.

The man touched her face. A faint halo of light surrounded his fingertips. His hand was buzzing and warm as he stroked her cheek. Olria caught her breath at the tingling promise in that touch.

Olria tipped her head back, and Farengar’s lips brushed her own. His hand caressed down her throat, resting at the base of her neck. He gently pressed her back, until Olria’s shoulders touched the wall. Leaning into her, he deepened the kiss. The sensation of their bodies moulding together set Olria’s heart racing. She hadn’t thought this would happen so early in the day, but the thrill of the unexpected was something she enjoyed as much as Farengar.

Olria reached up to grip his face, feeling the bristles that covered his jawline. She kissed him back in earnest. Farengar murmured against her lips. His hand travelled from her neck down between her breasts, coming to rest on her waist. He pushed his thigh between her legs. Olria found herself standing on her toes so she could pull him closer.

Farengar’s other hand cradled the back of her head, his fingertips weaving into her hair and releasing it from its pins. She let out a sigh. Magic bloomed from his hand, seeming to flow up to the tresses of her hair to tingle all through her skull. Olria’s cheeks reddened at the rush; the restoration magic had nowhere to go, bouncing inside her head and warming her in all the right places.

Olria wrapped her arms around Farengar’s neck. She could feel hardness against her thigh and shifted so it was in the right place. She pushed her hips against him. Farengar pushed back, his tongue pressing through her lips. His body enveloped hers against the wall, trapping her in pleasure, leaving her at the mercy of his enhanced, magical touch.

There was a knock on the door.

They both froze.

The knock sounded again, accompanied by a muffled male voice, “Court Wizard Secret-Fire?”

Farengar drew back, letting out a breath. His hands relaxed. In the shadows of his face, Olria could see his eyes rolling. “What in Oblivion do you want?” he called.

Olria stifled a giggle. Maybe he thought if he were rude enough, the man would just leave.

No luck. “The Jarl wanted to speak with you regarding the letters you received. Something about the Dragonborn joining the Imperial forces in Solitude, sir.”

Olria could see Farengar biting back a caustic remark. Jarl Balgruuf’s temper rivalled Farengar’s own. It wouldn’t do to insult the messenger. “Fine,” he snapped. “Tell the Jarl I will be with him shortly.” Farengar sent Olria an apologetic look.

There was no reply from outside the door. When they did not hear retreating boot steps, Olria bit her lip with embarrassment. Was the man outside listening?

Farengar groaned. He leaned his forehead against the wall above Olria’s hair. “Are you still there?” he growled at the door. “Because I am sure you have something better to do than standing there drooling on my workroom floor. I hate troubling the servants to clean up a dullard’s mess.”

Outside the doorway, there was an awkward cough and a shuffle. The feet quickly marched away and out of the workroom.

Olria stifled a giggle against her hand. Shoulders shaking with laughter, she dropped her head against Farengar’s chest. Her mentor snorted. He wrapped one arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze. “I suppose I should see what the Jarl wants. Even though we’ve already thoroughly discussed the topic of the Dragonborn yesterday.”

Olria glanced up. Farengar’s brows had drawn down. “What is it?” she asked.

“I believe the Jarl thinks that this,” he motioned to them both, “is all rather funny.” He scowled. “I intend to have a little chat with him about it.”

“Just hurry and go see what he wants,” Olria laughed.

Farengar sighed and stepped back, straightening his robes.

Olria felt cold as his body parted from hers. “I’ll wait for you,” she said. Now it was her turn to look sly.

“There are a few books on the bedside table,” Farengar offered. He gave her a lopsided smile before leaving the room.

***