Chapter Text
“Venhedis.”
It’s a vague memory, hazy with lust and need and maybe more than a little lack of sleep. She can recall Neve’s hands on her hips, remembers grinding down on the detective’s thigh while the other woman leaned against her desk, thinks of their soft laughter as they realized just how carried away they were getting. It had started out as soft kisses, tasting of bitter coffee (in Neve’s case) and rich black tea (in Vic’s case).
She kind of remembers Neve’s mouth on her neck, the warmth of the ice mage’s lips and the contrast of her cool breath, sending shivers down Vic’s spine as she arched into the other woman. She doesn’t remember teeth or sucking, though.
But the deep maroon marks on her neck and collarbone say otherwise.
Vic lets her fingers trail along the marks. Whatever they were before, they’ve deepened in color, blooming into deep red roses against her skin. She stares at them in the mirror from Varric, before tugging on the collar of the white blouse she stole from Neve to see if it covers them at all.
She has to button the neckline higher than she prefers, but it will work. At the very least she’ll avoid the giggles and knowing smirks from her companions. Not that she minds their reaction, but—
She needs to talk to Neve first.
The Lighthouse in early-ish morning is reasonably quiet. She’s fairly sure the rest of the companions have eaten breakfast already, and have split off to do their own activities while waiting for next steps from her. She should take some of them to Treviso, see if they can destroy some of the Blight, help the Crows with anything they can think of, try to get back into their good graces as best as she can…
“Okay, but who sent the gems?” Vic hears Bellara ask from inside Neve’s study. The door is open, just a foot or so.
“Who do you think sent them?” Neve asks.
“I don’t know!” Bellara insists. “There are so many options! It could be his long lost sister that the author hinted at, or maybe his ex-lover. Oh, maybe there’s a message engraved on the gems! There was another serial that used that, when the hero held them up to the light it reflected the words!”
“Am I interrupting something?” Vic asks, stepping inside the small room. The comforting and familiar smell of bad coffee and parchment and ink embraces her, and she smiles at the two women, seeing Bellara sitting on Neve’s cot while the detective leans against her desk.
Thoughts of stepping between Neve’s legs, of feeling the other woman’s hands on her hips again, Neve’s lips on her neck—
She’s blushing, she’s sure, and she’s also sure Neve catches it. It’s subtle, the raise of the detective’s dark brow and the quirk of her lips, but Vic looks to Bellara to avoid blushing even more.
“Oh, hi Rook!” Bellara greets. “We were just talking about the latest chapter of Violet Haze, I think another chapter should come out tomorrow!”
“We’ll pick it up for you,” Neve promises. “I’m ashamed to say I’m a little invested now.”
“Guilty as well,” Vic says. She crosses her arms over her chest, glancing over to Neve quickly —resulting in both eyebrows raised from the detective — before she asks, “Bel, do you mind if I talk to Neve alone real quick?”
“Oh, sure, go ahead!” the elven woman insists, gathering the collection of serials she must have brought from her workshop. She treats them with the utmost care, stacking them neatly before gathering them and holding them to her chest. “See you around!”
She doesn’t close the door behind her - an understandable habit that they’re all trying to work on with her.
“Bel,” Vic calls.
“Door! Right! Sorry!”
Vic smiles at the Veiljumper rushing back to close the door, waiting until she hears the click of it before looking back to the detective.
“Alone, hm?” Neve asks, leaning forward just a bit as Vic turns to face her fully, and steps up almost between Neve’s feet. Neve’s hands are still holding the edge of the desk, for now, but Vic can remember the day before, when they were on her hips, guiding her, steadying her — “Should I be worried?”
“Not really,” Vic admits. “I just wanted to bring your attention to something.”
Neve frowns, tilting her head ever so slightly, dark hair swaying with the movement. “Is everything okay? Did we get something from the Shadows?”
“Everything is fine, and no, not yet,” Vic explains. “I just…” Venhedis, how does she even word this? “It’s better if I show you, I think.”
She reaches up to the topmost buttons of the shirt, cursing the other woman for picking the most intricate blouses with the tiniest buttons. She can feel Neve’s amused gaze on her as she struggles with pressing one of the buttons through its little loop.
“You know, the simplest solution to not getting frustrated with my clothing is to wear your own,” Neve teases, reaching to help.
“I thought this would be less suspicious,” Vic admits, letting Neve take over, her own hands falling to her side.
“Suspicious?”
“Keep going.”
Neve frowns, continuing to unbutton the blouse. Vic can see and hear the moment Neve realizes, hearing the hitch in the detective’s breath, seeing her eyes widen slightly. Neve’s fingers pause, still pressed against white linen.
“Yeah,” Vic breathes.
"I..." Neve starts, then stops, her eyes fixed on the marks she left on Vic's skin. Her fingers brush against one of them, feather-light and ice-cold, and Vic shivers at the touch. The detective lets out a low, warm laugh, almost disbelieving. "I guess I got carried away?"
“You guess?” Vic asks with a laugh.
“I didn’t think…” Neve starts, frowning as she pulls the fabric aside to see all of the marks. “I don’t remember being that… violent,” she finishes.
“I don’t remember that either,” Vic admits. “I think I may just mark easily.”
“That’s an understatement,” Neve mutters, brushing her fingers along the maroon marks. “Venhedis….”
Vic can't help but smile at the way Neve's gaze is intently focused on the marks, the detective's fingers still tracing them with a delicate touch. There's something like awe in her expression, something that makes heat pool in Vic's stomach.
"I don't mind them," Vic says softly, watching Neve's face. "Though maybe next time we should be a bit more... mindful of placement."
“Mindful placement,” Neve replies, deadpan as she finally meets Vic’s gaze. “The shirt you got from the Crows shows almost as much as mine.”
“There are other places to mark aside from my neck and chest,” Vic defends.
Neve's eyes darken at that, her fingers stilling against Vic's collarbone. "Is that so?" she asks, voice low. "I think I have a few ideas.”
“I was hoping you would.”
Neve’s fingers are ice-cold against her collarbone, making her shiver. “I have case notes I need to look over,” she says, and Vic knows she won’t be getting any more marks. At least, not right now.
“And I should take Lucanis to Treviso. Do you want to come with us, or should I ask someone else?”
“Someone else,” Neve admits. “I really do have work to do.”
“All right.” Vic pauses, looking down. “Can you help with the buttons again?”
“You are aware you’re asking for my help in dressing you in my shirt?”
“Yes.”
Neve’s laugh is soft, more of a breath than an actual sound as she leans in to brush her lips against Vic’s. “Just don’t stain it, Trouble.”