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When Meredith stalked the upper halls of the Chantry like a leopard, Elthina stopped her work. She finished putting her last thought to paper and carefully set down her quill, smoothly her fingers over the barbs until it looked pretty again. While she started blowing out the candles, she listened to the click click click of Meredith's armored boots, back and forth, back and forth. Even steps.
Meredith had always liked to pray on her feet, quiet contemplation frequently beyond her grasp. The worn paths of the stone halls carried her. Elthina sometimes teased that Meredith would eventually wear through the floor. The grooves are noticeably deeper, she would say, which would always rile Meredith up enough to talk.
But Elthina didn't think Meredith was here to talk today. When two candles remained, Elthina adjusted her robes, and cracked open the door just enough to see out.
Meredith noticed immediately. “Grand Cleric,” she greeted, perfunctory and formal as usual. One of her gauntlets rested on the door frame as she leaned to block the door. Her icy gaze trailed down, skipping Elthina's face and landing on her neck.
Elthina felt a drop of sweat trickle down from her hairline; it was a hot day. Meredith's bulk filled her gaze. “Knight-Commander, what brings you to my office this evening? Would you like to come in?”
“No. But I would like some company.” Meredith rumbled.
Elthina always through Meredith's voice sounded richer reverberating in the metal of her armor. She darted her tongue over her lips. “Well, what did you have in mind? Shall we walk?”
“Certainly.” Meredith waited a beat to move out of the way. She straightened up to her full, glorious height. One hand rested casually on her sword hilt, but the light tap of her finger betrayed her mood. She had too much on her mind to talk.
Elthina made small talk about Chantry business as they walked toward a secluded balcony overlooking the sanctuary hall. At most, Meredith acknowledged her chatter in short grunts. Elthina was suddenly very aware of her body, of the sweaty clash of her thighs together under the heavy clerical robes, the way her breasts lay their full weight on her chest, the heat dusting the tips of her ears.
Meredith glanced at her, observant. “You look unwell, my friend.”
“Perhaps a little…overheated,” Elthina responded. She leaned against the banister and fanned herself with one hand. “The air flow is a bit better here.”
Meredith crowded her where she rested, hungry. “Yes. It would help if you lifted your robe a little.”
Elthina complied, looking directly into Meredith’s eyes as she lifted her skirts to her knees. The soft whispers of prayer drifting from below excited her—they could be seen. Elthina would have to be quiet.
“Better,” Meredith said.
The quick and painful hardness of her clit had Elthina wanting to squeeze her legs together, but she waited. Meredith watched her face for far too long, waiting for some cue Elthina could only guess.
Meredith crouched slowly until her armored knees clinked against the stone floor. They played this game so many times, waiting for one of them to break first. And finally…finally!…Meredith ducked under her skirts, grabbing Elthina’s thighs. Her gauntlets gouged in to Elthina’s soft flesh, pushing her legs wider.
Meredith’s mouth on her cunt almost made Elthina yell, it was so sudden and furious, but she bit down on the inside of her cheek. She shouldn’t let the faithful hear. She shouldn’t let the Maker hear her pleasure. A near silent moan escaped.
Meredith sucked her, fucked her with her boiling hot tongue. Inelegant, teeth scraping—not the way Elthina usually liked to get off, unless it was with Meredith. Something about her opened up Elthina’s feral side, her duties and her faith shoved aside for these few blistering minutes.
Elthina dropped one hand from her skirt and fisted it in Meredith’s hair. Not to guide her, for Meredith would do as she pleased anyway as long as Elthina allowed it, but to steady herself as the oncoming orgasm made her knees shake.
Elthina came hard on Meredith’s mouth, dripping down her chin. Meredith kept going. Elthina gripped Meredith’s hair tighter, twisting to make her stop.
Elthina slumped against the banister until only her elbows and Meredith’s hands were holding her up. Meredith smiled her grim smile, slick from her nose to her chin.
“Knight-Commander,” Elthina said slowly when she could breathe again, “I believe that deserves a medal of service to the Chantry.”
Meredith scoffed. She seemed calmer, more centered now. “Light a candle for me, Grand Cleric. It was the will of Andraste.”