He should not think of the markings as beautiful, not when they had caused so much pain and posed such danger to its host, but the way they outlined his muscles and caught the light still were so, without a doubt. It was an additional cruelty, Karl thought, to design the markings to be so beautiful that they would distract from the person who bore them and come to define him in the eyes of too many.
At least he did not touch them, even as his eyes lingered; instead he traced the unmarked skin around them with careful fingers, softly as if the skin still burned from within and were in need of soothing.
The first kiss was pressed on his chin, between the white lines, earning him a soft sigh of a body’s yes, but he had to make sure.
“In words, if you please.”
Fenris chuckled, amused but content. “Do go on.”
And so he did, tongue carefully travelling the paths between the markings on his neck, fingers caressing the skin they met as he undressed him with all the reverence of a first time.
Three in one bed, particularly when it was not a very large bed to begin with, was awkward. Knees and elbows everywhere you turned. But also more intriguing bits of anatomy, which Niall was having great fun exploring, while other hands and mouths explored him in turn.
He still couldn’t believe that Karl and Anders had invited him to join them; especially given how recently it had been that Karl had finally overcome his scruples to enter into a relationship with the younger mage at all. Anders had been making no secret of his attraction to his teacher for some time now, but it wasn’t until after his recent Harrowing that Karl had finally accepted that Anders was more than old enough to make up his mind about entering such a relationship. Perhaps the biggest stumbling block for Karl had been that he was Anders’ teacher, and he thought of a more personal relationship with the young mage as potentially being of questionable morality. Yet Karl was still Anders’ teacher, the young healer having considerable learning yet to do. Harrowing tested only a mage’s ability to resist possession, not their knowledge and skill in the assorted esoteric fields of magic, after all.
While Niall had had his own tumbles in bed with Karl before – one of several benefits of their long-term friendship – he suspected he likely owed his current invitation to join the both of them to the younger mage. Anders was definitely a lot more adventurous than Karl was, though judging by the rather intriguing things Karl was currently doing with his mouth, the older mage had already learned a few new tricks from his protege. Niall was finding it increasingly difficult to stay quiet as the two teamed up on him.
Karl lifted his head, grinning as Niall moaned over what Anders was currently do to him. “You should show him that little trick of yours,” the older mage said.
“Little trick?” Niall asked curiously.
Anders grinned too, and held up his hand, fingers out-spread and just slightly cupped. Tiny threads of electricity began to spark between his fingertips, making a faint crackling sound as they popped in and out of view.
“Uh… I don’t know about this… are you sure that’s safe?” Niall asked anxiously, trying to squirm away from the young mage.
“Trust me,” Karl purred as he nuzzled into Niall’s hair, his voice low and husky. “You’ll like it. I certainly did,” he said, then licked the curve of Niall’s ear.
Niall’s only response was another even louder moan.
This is one of the very best threesomes.
You are one of the very best people.
These are the facts my brain is able to process right now.
It’s someone’s birthday today and I come bearing gifts.
Happy birthday, Combo! I have two things for you, firstly an e-hug, because you are an awesome person and I would love to hug you for real. And secondly I’ve got fic for you, because you are an awesome person and deserve it.
I also need to apologize. This was supposed to be the beginning of a porny threesome, but it turned out completely different than I thought it would. I’ve been trying to still make it work for the last few hours, but to no avail. Forgive me?
And hi, everyone else, who might want to read on, this fic contains some german words I used in exchange for the language of the Anderfels. There’s a list of translations at the bottom.
A Lesson in Ander
„Someone’s been spending too much time with a certain blond apprentice?“
Not the kind of words Karl would have expected after a mind-blowing orgasm. “Someone needs to work on his pillow talk.”
“I’m not the only one.”
He understood the accusations about who could only be Anders; if he was being honest, they were close enough to the truth to strike a nerve, though, and also he was annoyed at Niall for bringing him up. He understood what had been said about Anders. He didn’t understand why the other mage thought it worth mentioning. He also didn’t understand the last comment. Did he say something wrong? He couldn’t think of anything that might have prompted this.
Niall looked at him expectantly while running his hand up his side, caressing him. Upon realising Karl had no idea what he was talking about, he even had the guts to start smirking. So maybe he did say something. Clearing his throat he tried to think of the least awkward way to ask what this ‘something’ was exactly.
Thank you so much! You are an awesome person and I am up for all the hugs! And, aah, this fic, oh, oh my. I believe Niall gently (and also not so gently) trolling people, and especially Karl, is one of my new favourite fandom things. There is just this something about slipping into ones native tongue during intimate moments, and something about a friend noticing how the feelings between Karl and his fellow Anders might be bordering on something quite dangerous, so feelings. Aah!
(And, ah, there is nothing to apologise for or to forgive! This is just wonderful, and sometimes stories do that, runs away with you and wants to be written their way, and I think it is exciting to see where stories like that go!)
If Karl did not know better he would have guessed that Niall was sulking. Not from anything terribly apparent in his body language aside from a slightly less straightened back than what was usual; it was mostly the fact that his eyes carried the vague threat of oncoming hexes and other horrors.
Less vague and more barely restrained action as the game went on. Well, then.
“You are not actually attempting to cast horror on me, are you?” Karl had to ask after felling a black knight.
“What? I would never.” Niall paused. “Not during a game.”
“But only because it would be considered cheating, and a victory earned that way would be meaningless to you?”
Karl had to smile. He knew him so well by now.
“Are you going to tell me why, or would you like me to provide you with one guess for each piece I capture?”
Niall huffed, an insulted sound. “I doubt you will be able to take that many.”
It was amusing how much of the Entropy school there was to be found in Niall’s style of play and behaviour both; the little jabs and threats and calculated attacks, very much the tactician. There was a certain potential for it becoming rather tiring on a personal level after a while, but as a chess partner he was a very satisfying one, the traces of his school making him an interesting counter to his own style that leaned heavily towards positional play. He found himself idly wondering how many traces of his own school of magic there was to be found in his playing style and personality both. Not as much of either as in Niall’s, he suspected.
So hawkeward, I noticed that you like chess porn and also threesomes, so guess what I got you for your birthday!
This is for anonymouscatastrophe, as a belated happy birthday gift. Here, have some birthday/chess/feelings porn with foreplay shenanigans!
“I don’t get it,” Anders proclaimed as he draped himself over Karl’s shoulders, interrupting his quiet moment of strategic contemplation.
“I suppose you don’t,” Karl agreed and knocked him on the arm with the black little horse he had been about to move across the checked board.
“It is dull. Dull and old, and you play with Niall, the most insufferable prat in the entire tower.”
Karl considered the piece in his hand. This particular set was definitely on the old side and had not been polished in quite some time and was thus rather dull. “Yes,” he agreed once more. It would not do to lie to Anders, after all.
“Why,” he demanded instead of asking, putting all his weight on Karl’s shoulders in an attempt to shift all his attention from the board and to himself, letting long fingers trace an enticing pattern down Karl’s side.
“Well, sometimes I like some adult company, is all,” Karl said with a smile as he put the piece down and finally turned to look up at him.
“Like I don’t count?”
“Not all the time, no,” Karl chuckled into the crook of Anders’ elbow before pressing a brief kiss against it, “and you are not always around, either.”
“Well I am now, so you don’t need to fumble with that old thing by yourself.”
“Is that an offer to play?”
Karl could practically feel Anders’ disgusted expression behind him. “Not that. I don’t know the rules anyway.”
“I can teach you, and then you will never have to admit to only being able to play svälta räv.”
“I can play Wicked Grace!” Anders protested, forcing Karl to shake his head.
“No, no, you really cannot.”
Anders stormed around the table to sit down in front of him, sullenly pushing the white pieces down. “Fine. Teach me your stupid game if it is so great, then.” Karl had to smile; Anders had come to him for something other than a board game, something he could easily get from many others, and yet he stayed to keep him company rather than go get what he came for elsewhere. Oh, he would like the adult chess rules.
So! This is an an out-take from a larger story with like, serious plot and stuff that has already been posted, but since it is Beard Week, here is the beard porn relevant part in all its glory! Because Beard Week needs beard porn, clearly.
It was a much nicer tent than the one the mages were housed in, of course; not as extravagant as he might have imagined a tent belonging to someone with a title like Commander of the Grey, but suitable for a Duncan. Practical. Sparse. Tidy bedding, a closed chest, foldable chairs next to a small table that must be as well, covered with maps.
“Having one of these would make morning routines easier to manage. Trimming your beard in the midst of ten others is a bit of a challenge at times.”
Duncan gave a slight smile. “Yet you manage it well.”
Karl returned it, hesitantly, scratching his ear and trying to decipher what such a smile meant outside the Circle Tower. A friendly compliment, or an invitation?
“Not as well as some others,” he tried, feeling too bashful for his age. Something peeking out from under the maps caught his eye; a welcome distraction. “Is that a… chessboard?”
Duncan’s eyes followed the path of Karl’s own. “Yes. You play?”
He nodded. “Not much to do in the tower besides research and pursuing little hobbies.” He had been there enough years to have developed a respectable skill for it, enough to beat even Niall at times.
“Would you care for a game over our discussion, or would you prefer to not be reminded of Circle-related activities?” He gestured towards the board, and began to unearth it when Karl nodded a yes.
“Reminding me of what I could get away from might be to your advantage,” he smiled.
Sitting down in front of the pieces, well worn and chipped in places made him smile for other reasons; his games with Niall held a very different meaning.
“Not all bad things, then?” Duncan asked, nodding at him.
“Not all of them, no,” Karl admitted. “One of my chess partners really knows how to spice up a game,” he continued, smile turning slightly wicked at the memories.
“Spice up chess?” Duncan seemed intrigued, eyes on his lips.
“We played for tokens. The winner got… a prize of his choosing.”
Duncan leaned forwards; a little bit closer. “And you chose…?”
Karl hesitated for a moment before shrugging his doubt off. “Oh, depending on the mood, bending him over the chess table, having him bend me over the chess table, things like that…” He trailed off, uncertain on how to continue.
Duncan decided for him with a rather wicked smile of his own. “Let us play, then, as you do in the Circle.”
Oh, Karl liked that smile.
Follow-up to this. Yeah. KARL and DUNCAN. They are going to get it on. Because beard porn, clearly!
Karl leaned back against the old stone wall, made so different from the ones in the tower simply due to him being on the outside of them for once. He tried to not look too closely at the young man before him, unsure of where it would be proper to rest his eyes. He had to remind himself that this was their King, a person to respect and perhaps be in awe of, that his enthusiasm for fighting darkspawn ought to be regarded as bravery; he should be thought of as a warrior king and not a foolish youth playing soldier for his own amusement.
It was difficult, however, to regard him with the proper amount of respect when he practically beamed and spoke of glory as he did.
“So! A battle mage called to defend our homeland, to crush our unholy enemies with your dangerous powers! Glorious, is it not?” Cailan beamed at him again.
Karl did not feel particularly glorious. While wearing trousers and proper armour made to survive battle in made sense from a self preservation angle, the actually wearing them part was… uncomfortable. The leather armour chafed and smelled somewhat strange after a day in the sun, the trousers were not as great as the soldiers would have him believe, and during one undignified moment he had almost managed to stab himself with the end of his newly assigned staff, designed for a combat style that would put him much closer to the enemy than he would have liked. He wanted to sigh, deeply, but had to keep up appearances.
“Simply fulfilling my duty as a Circle mage, Your Majesty,” he said, keeping his voice level. Being let out of the tower only to be thrown in the vague direction of some monsters was not his idea of glory; not that he had entertained many thoughts of glory before.
“What is that like, anyway? Exciting? All that power!”
Karl blinked. “I… live locked up in a tower. So rather dull, I must say. Your Majesty.”
Cailan - The King, Karl reminded himself sternly, seemed a bit at loss for words after that, and in need of hearing something a tad more cheerful.
“My friend attempted to grow his hair out to have a braid long enough for a rescuer to climb up it, like a maiden in a story. Not a very well thought out plan, if you ask me - any rescuer would be just as stuck as the mage.”
“There are not… many escapees, are there?” Cailan sounded a slight bit concerned.
“Oh no, we are surrounded by a lake,” Karl ensured him, “and he only managed to get it to about shoulder length. It was not a very well planned attempt.”
She stands out from the other apprentices even as they are all dressed the same. She moves with a grace the others lack, forever noticed as she walks through the hallways. He, like so many others, cannot take his eyes off her. It is not because of the gentle curve of her breasts or hips, how she so clearly has them and a waist in between, noticable even in ill-fitting robes. Is it not about how her smile is warm and her eyes gentle or how she wears her dark hair tied together with a red ribbon. It is none of those things, at least not for him.
For him, it is the spirit she retains, even in this closed off space. How she can laugh with such delight in a place like this, how she is still able to find joy in things in here.
They talk of their old homes, at times; not because he is sure he wants to dwell on his past much, but because she asks him and tells him of hers. A sunnier place, and closer to the ocean. Warmer, and she misses it, she is always missing the heat.
They create some of their own between them, because something about her ignites a spark in him, and she is drawn to sparks.
The wardrobe in her dorm is large enough to fit them both; it is a tight one, but it is one. They push their robes aside and she straddles him, lowering herself onto him, tight around him and warm against him. She breathes into his ear before kissing him, close to devoring him, and she sets the pace. His hands are under her robes and on her hips and on her breasts, confirming what his eyes always suspected; all curves and all soft skin.
Her curves and her softness, the weight of her on him and the feeling of her around him, the rocking movements and the rises and the falls; all of it that makes him not want it to be over brings him to the end of it far too quickly.
He does not call out her name, simply breathing heavier against her. He cannot see her smile in the darkness, but he feels it, warm as always as she guides his fingers, whispering instructions of how he is to move them inside her, bringing her to the point where she does not call out his name, either.
This is not about Bianca and this is not about Karl, because to be attached to the owner of a name in such a way is a dangerous thing; and so this is about warmth, to find joy in another body. Again, and again, and again.
Hey hey how about some Tuesday morning explicit smut?
Yes. Yes always. And to keep going yes and yes and yes now would feel a slight touch inappropriate, but in the spirit of TMI Tuesday, yes. Because perfect smut. Thank you for this beautiful, beardtastic moment that really requires a .gif of a flustered woman fanning herself that my folder is sadly lacking. INSTEAD, ALL CAPS AND EXCLAMATION MARKS TIME! AU KARL/ISABELA AWW YEAH!
This is for, and in honour, of hawkeward. You know how sometimes in irc, you talk with someone terrific and just get the urge to write them some chess themed porn? ..No? Well. That is just the kind of person I am, then!
While Karl thoroughly enjoyed teaching, what he valued the most about being an Enchanter was finally being allowed a room of his own. He had never had one before; as a young boy, he had shared with his siblings, and in the Circle he had been forced to share with so many other mages for most of his life, until he had been given the rank of Enchanter. He even had things to call his own, now. Mostly books, and he treasured them beyond a scholar’s delight.
He had yet to join a Fraternity, something he was not alone in. His current chess partner, Niall, did not count himself as an Isolationist despite sympathising with them.
“I do not have much interest in the politics of it,” Karl confessed to him as he moved one of the white pawns across the board. “For now, I would much rather keep to my studies.”
Niall nodded. “In this, we are of the same mind.” He moved his own piece slowly, carefully stroking the aged wood, the very image of someone deep in thought, before putting it in place.
Karl made his move with greater speed, smiling to himself in anticipation of finding out how Niall would counter it. He studied his opponent, one hand in the air, ready to pick up another piece the moment the move had been decided on. Niall smiled in a way that spoke of trouble, and pushed a piece forward.
Karl nodded, satisfied. He did enjoy a challenge; that was the reason for choosing Niall as his partner for this game, after all. He traced the contours of the little white horse before moving it, thoughts briefly lingering on an old memory of a farm with a kind horse to work the plough.
He let himself study Niall’s fingers as he moved a pawn across the board. When Karl captured it next, it was still slightly warm from Niall’s touch.