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Emmrich looked at the mirror and frowned. He really ought not to be so concerned about his looks. A lifetime of healthy vegetarian eating, daily stretches, and staying out of the sun unprotected had kept him looking a decade younger than his actual age. Yet, even the most meticulous self care regimens could only do so much. At the age of 58, there was little he could do to avoid the inevitable aging. The sagging skin, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, and now… despite working to maintain his prim and proper posture, he couldn't help but notice how he slouched in his chair.
"Please, Emmrich." Harding sighed as she tried to put on the finishing touches to his makeup, "I need you to stop frowning, it's making my job harder."
He straightened up, and put on an apologetic smile, as the young woman resumed her work, making sure he wouldn't look washed out in the lights. Her job was hard enough, trying to make him look youthful for the cameras, but there was an added challenge in the cramped space masquerading as an en suite bathroom.
In another life, Emmrich would have never had this issue. He would have had his own trailer to get ready for, or at the very least, a room dedicated for make-up application. He'd fully intended to make his mark in the movies, and as a young man, he'd gotten bit parts in a variety of films, such as the announcer in a Tevinter Gladiator Film. Of course, with such competition, it was hard to to stand out amongst the countless actors and actresses that had the same goal, and he'd assumed he was destined to eke out an existence as an extra.
And then… THAT happened. A role that changed his life. It didn't need full use of his acting talents, but it definitely needed use of ALL his body. Especially a certain part of his anatomy.
So when 'Boning in the Necropolis' became a blockbuster of a ponography film, to the point people were making pornography parodies of it, he had found his calling. The serious aspiring actor Emmrich Volkarin was no more.
He was now known as Thedas's most celebrated Porn Star: Cumberland.
But that was decades ago, when he was young and virile. And now… well, he still had some devotees, both old and young, his fanbase and movie offers were drying up.
Thankfully, he had been wise with his money, and had invested what he could, and could live comfortably on it and the residuals from his career. And there was still a small but vocal segment that had a thing for 'Silver Foxes'. He wasn't quite the box office draw anymore, but it was nice to still be appreciated. Veilguard Productions, a small independent porn company was far easier to work with than those big demanding companies. Unfortunately, being so small, they couldn't afford a dedicated film space, so they had to make do with rented houses and offices.
There was a knock at the door.
"Am I allowed to come in?" A high pitched voice came from behind. "I got the script, and Varric's notes… and… some bad news."
"Come in, Belarra, Harding's almost done, just mind your step."
The elf slipped through the half opened door, almost tripping on Harding's makeup case, instinctively apologising.
"Now, now, stop that!" Harding said as she nudged the case over, giving Belarra a bit of space. "So, you were saying you had some-"
"Oh, I got your notes." She handed a sheaf of papers towards him, "Varric says he thinks your ideas are good, he'll let you take charge on positions and whatnot." She couldn't help but look him over, and despite the fact he was still fully dressed, he could tell what thoughts she was thinking, if the slight pink blush on her cheeks meant anything. "I-uh… I better get going…" She began to slip out.
"You said something about bad news?"
"Oh! Oh yeah! Unfortunately Miss Anneth Thorne had to drop out. Apparently Warden business popped up, and she couldn't make it. She said she's really, REALLY sorry!"
That was a shame. Ms. Thorne was always a delight to work with, a true professional who wasn't in it for the paycheck or the notoriety.
"I assume Master Tethras has cast a suitable replacement?"
Bellara beamed. "Oh yeah, you'll like her! Ivy Ingellvar! She's new to it, and sorta nervous, but she seems eager to learn!"
Emmrich hoped her enthusiasm was not merely her eternal optimism. New actors tended to get flustered easily, and were more likely than not to overcompensate for their unfamiliarity with filming porn. And not to mention that with each passing year, the age difference between him and his neophyte co-stars got wider and wider. He couldn't help feeling like people were judging him, even though he had no say on whom his partners would be.
"Well, it looks like I'm done," Harding smiled awkwardly, "I'll need a bit of extra time with the new girl, figure out what shades will fit her, can you bring her in?"
"Ah! Okay! I'll introduce her to you, Emmrich!"
She was sitting outside of the room, knees pulled tightly together, her ears twitching almost imperceptibly. And even if that wasn't a sign that she was nervous, the way she gripped her phone was a definite give away. Bellarra pointed her out to him, and was about to introduce him to her, when the sound of Varric's voice called for her.
"Sorry! Gotta go!" And she darted off, leaving him alone with the new girl, who was so focused on her screen, that she didn't even notice his approach.
"Hello, you must be Miss Ingellvar!" He greeted her cheerfully, and she startled, standing up immediately as she turned to face him. Her beautiful bluish-grey eyes widened, and he was worried that he had come across too forward. She probably didn't even know who he was, and would no doubt be a bit put out about the age of her co-star. After all, she couldn't be more than her mid twenties.
"Oh! You're… you're…" her plush lips pursed, as she looked him up and down, no doubt mentally critiquing him in her mind. "You're Emmrich Volkarin!"
To his surprise both her hands shot out and grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously . "I've always wanted to meet you! I've watched ALL your movies…" she suddenly realized what she had said, and the most beautiful blush filled her cheeks. "For educational purposes, of course…" By this time, the tips of her ears had turned red, and Emmrich took note. Sensitive ears… That would be most useful.
"I'm honoured," he responded, completely honestly, as he hadn't expected someone so young to be so interested in his work. "May I ask if you have a particular favourite?"
"Oh! That's easy! 'Take My Hands in Yours!'" she replied brightly, much to his surprise. In truth, it was also his favourite, his attempt to break into 'serious' acting once he felt he was becoming too old for his profession. Sadly, it had never taken off, his reputation overshadowing what was supposed to be a romantic story (with a little bit of tasteful spice).
"Oh really? It's rare to find a fan of that one. It's quite different from my usual repertoire."
"Yeah! There's something that really speaks to me, the story about-"
"Miss Ingellvar?" Harding poked her head out of the door, "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but I need to do your make-up."
"Oh! Sorry!" She yanked her hands from Emmrich, only now realizing that she had been gripping it the entire time, and smiled at him. "I guess I'll see you later…" and she was ushered into the cramped bathroom.
Emmrich couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips as she walked. No, 'notice' was the wrong term.
He admired it.
Emmrich had seen countless bodies in his long life. Some, lanky and tall such as him, others short and stocky, like Ms. Thorne, who was considered to be quite popular with her fellow dwarves. He'd been with humans, elves, dwarves, and even Qunari. He'd seen breasts and dicks of various sizes, and loved them all. He was a true connoisseur of the nude body.
But as Ivy stood there, naked as a nug, all those previous bodies he had sampled seemed to be mere appetizers, compared to the feast that stood before him. Her pert pebbled nipples, no doubt due to being exposed to the cool air, were perfect for him to squeeze between his fingers. Those hips, round and soft, were the perfect size for his hands. Her cunt, which he tried his best to not stare at, was perfect for his fingers, his tongue, his cock.
He took a deep breath, trying to shake those thoughts from his mind as he adjusted his bathrobe, trying to make sure that his newly sprung erection didn't get noticed. Odd, in his profession, he had never found it embarrassing to get hard before. Then again, most of the time, especially as he got older, preparing himself took a …'hands on approach'. This, the mere sight of a nude body, and the thought of what he could do with it, the sounds he could draw from her… shouldn't get him hard so soon. He began to worry that this was a sign he might not be able to last for the entire shoot
This is just a job… he reminded himself… Remember that you also have a duty to make her comfortable. Treat her as a colleague, not as a casual hookup.
Her nervousness was palpable, as she looked everywhere except in his direction and he ought to reassure her, or at the very least, distract her.
"Bellara said this was your first time?"
She startled, looked around as if he was addressing someone else, before her eyes settled on his. "Ah! Yes! I mean, I've uhhh.. well… I'm not a virgin or anything…"
"I should hope so, I'm no prude, but I am of the opinion that deflowering should be done in the comfort of one's home, for an audience of only a few."
"I just… I've never done this before. What if I screw this up? What if I can't get in the mood? All those people watching, I don't know if I can.. uh…perform?"
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, before hastily pretending to pull her bathrobe closer around her to keep her warm. "You don't need to worry about anything. I'll take care of you. A bit of advice, this crew is a good one, they've seen everything that could happen during a shoot. Nothing you do will be judged by them."
"Okay…but…" she bit her lips, (Harding had applied a beautiful dark wine shade to them, and he imagined what it would look like streaked against his shaft) "The anticipation, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable…"
"Oh, there's no possibility of doing so," he responded with the utmost sincerity. He needed to put her at ease, maybe distract her, "Would you like to ask me any questions about myself, if it would make you feel more comfortable?"
Her eyes brightened at that suggestion. "Oh! Yeah! I was wondering, there's a rumour that one of your movies, the one where you played a chantry father, and the Noblewoman in the confessional booth, was it really banned in Orlais?"
He threw back his head and laughed. Oh, that brought back memories! "Ah! Yes it did! Apparently Orlais, famous for its debauched orgies, thought an illicit love affair was beyond the pale. Thankfully, when Divine Victoria ascended the sunburst throne, she lifted the ban, although by that time, with the advent of the internet, nearly everyone had seen it."
"I heard it was because the Divine was Nevarran, and it was a political decision."
"I cannot confirm it, but…" he grinned slyly at her, "there's rumours that Divine is quite open minded when it comes to the more… venal… aspects of the world"
Ivy giggled, and her cute button nose flared out as she did so. Now that she was more relaxed, he appreciated her beauty even more. Had he been a younger man, he would have been instantly infatuated with her, but right now, she was merely a reminder of his youth that he would never get back."
"Alright!" Varric's voice rang out, cutting through the bustle and noise of the set. "Let's get this shoot started!"
If you were to ask Emmrich what the plot was for this particular film, he would have had to admit… he couldn't quite remember. Something trite and boring, about a guitar tutor teaching his student while she was sitting on his lap. He seemed to remember her long delicate fingers plucking some strings, her ass rubbing against his already strained pants.
What he did remember was the slick coating his fingers as he stroked her petals, the way she reacted to his touch. Little breathy moans, barely picked up by the boom mike that Taash held up. The way she gripped his legs, her nails digging so tight into his thighs that he swore he'd have sets of half moons indented into his skin for a week.
The way her back arched in reaction to each stroke. He couldn't help but roll one of her nipples between his fingers, rewarding him with an uttered expletive. Good, that meant she was comfortable, unbothered by the couple of cameras that filmed them from different angles. Such good behaviour deserved a reward. Now to put his observation to good use.
"Language, young lady…" He murmured into the shell of her ear, causing her to shudder and shake. Ah, he was right, she was one of those elves that had extremely sensitive ears. He ought to be careful with that power, over use could backfire.
"S-s-sorry…" she responded. Oh she was performing so well for the cameras. Except, as a veteran adult actor, he knew this was no mere performance. Ivy was truly enjoying herself, and the way she ground against him and the sounds she made was threatening to send him, a man who prided himself on his self control, over the edge.
He slipped a finger into his mouth to sneak a taste of her. Oh, she tasted divine. If he was sentenced to death, he'd have her as his last meal and die a happy man.
Her breathing began to stutter, her hips jerked, and he felt a warm gush between his fingers as she came hard.
"OH FUCK!" She yelled, seemingly not caring that she was surrounded by strangers watching their every move. "OH FFFFuuuck…" She went limp in his arms as the orgasm that ripped through her left nothing in its wake.
"Annnnnd CUT!" Varric yelled out, a very pleased tone in his voice. "Exccellent! Let's take a 30 minute break, let things cool down, then we'll work on the blow job scene."
She fell against his chest, and he felt the sweat dripping down her back from the exertion. She'd really gone all out, and he knew that he needed to get her wrapped up in a warm bathrobe before that sweat chilled her. But he found he couldn't, or rather, didn't want to move her. It was nice, having her resting against his chest, that he could pretend she was a lover waking up slowly from a pleasant dream.
"I'm sorry…" she murmured.
"Take your time to collect yourself, an orgasm is not something one just 'gets over'.
"I didn't mean to come so quickly."
"Oh," he couldn't help but smile, "That, my dear, is quite an ego boost for an old man."
She snickered, "Oh come on, you can't be calling yourself that, you can't be that old!"
He helped her into her bathrobe as they made their way to a couch, tying up his own robe to cover up his own hardness, "My dear, you don't need to be gentle with my feelings. I'm nearly sixty."
"Woah…" She stared at him, and he expected to see a flash of disappointment pass her face, but nothing as she examined him, from his disheveled greying hair, down his chest where the skin had been slackened over the years, and then… to the mound that even the plush terricloth could not conceal. "I mean, considering when your earliest movies came out, that makes sense, but just by looking at you, I thought you were in your fourties, and you fuck like you're in your thirties."
He froze, blinking at her. Was she giving him a compliment? Or was there some deeper meaning within it? No, I'm just imagining things.
She began to shiver, the sweat wicking off of her sapping away precious heat.
"Lucanis! Would you be so kind as to get the dear lady a cup of coffee?" The Antivan gopher nodded and went around the corner.
She caught her glance. "My dear, you need both something to warm yourself up, and to give yourself energy for the next shoot. Only," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "you MUST drink it as he gives you. Lucanis makes a fine brew, but he gets quite offended when you dilute it with cream or sugar."
"Aren't you going to have any?"
"Oh no," he shook his head as Lucanis seemed to materialize out of nowhere with a small cup, which she accepted with a polite thank you. "Coffee is far too bitter for my palate, and bad for my teeth."
"Says the man who drinks hot leaf juice," Lucanis rolled his eyes as she took a tentative sip. He watched her suppress a bit of a grimace at the sharp flavour, but dutifully drained the cup.
"My dear Lucanis can never understand why a man would prefer to drink tea to coffee," he explained as she handed the cup back. Despite the taste, it seemed to do the trick, as her eyes seemed to be brighter, and had ceased shivering.
"Aren't you going to drink something?"
"Bah!" Lucanis's eyes seemed to flash purple, "he will never appreciate the work I do to acquire these blends. This one came all the way from Par Vallon. He's too attached to his dried leaves and sticks and fruit peels."
"I do appreciate you! But more for your culinary skills, and not your barista skills."
Ivy giggled, and the sound of it tickled something within his chest.
"Alright!" Varric yelled out, disrupting that feeling, sending it instead straight down into his groin, "Places everyone!"
Emmrich had always prided himself on his restraint and self control. He'd once had a six hour session for an Orlesian orgy scene, edging himself over and over again that by the time he careened over the cliff, he'd blown his load and immediately passed out. He'd awoken in an ambulance, with the crew terrified that the strain had caused him to have a heart attack, instead of the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.
Which made the effect of her mouth around his cock, the warm wetness of her tongue upon his shaft most remarkable. Because the moment he felt those plush lips around him, it took all his willpower to not blow his load right then and there. It was like her mouth was made for him, knowing intuitively how much she should suck, the exact spot where her tongue pressed against that pulsing vein caused him to see stars.
"That's it darling…" He murmured, his fingers stroking though her hair, trying not to put any pressure. Not just because he didn't want to accidentally force her to do anything she didn't want to, but because she was perfect at what she was doing, the depth and speed was like nothing he'd ever experienced.
She was so good with her mouth, he started to force himself to think about especially unsexy things to keep himself from coming. He thought about dusty old text books from his college days, he thought about Manfred scratching up his furniture. He even thought about Johanna Hezzenkoss, and the way she would smoke those disgusting menthol cigarettes while she went on and on about her latest scientific discovery.
These things barely helped, only granting temporary relief before she would switch the angle, go a little bit deeper, hum a little bit, dragging him once more to the edge.
Out of desperation, he forced himself to be aware of the fact that he was performing in front of a group of people. Davrin, focusing intensely as he positioned the camera, with Neve on the secondary camera. Bellara, taking copious notes for future ideas. Lucanis, sipping a cup of coffee after just setting out the post shoot snacks, Taash, their muscular arms carrying the boom mic while Harding being possibly the only person not watching the scene because she was too busy ogling Taash's well toned biceps.
And then there was Varric, sitting relaxed on his chair watching the performance. As a director, he was pretty hands off, preferring to let the actors take charge, but even then, he hadn't interrupted the scene even once today. In his lust addled mind he wasn't sure if this was a good sign, or bad.
But even with all those sets of eyes judging him, he kept slipping closer and closer to the abyss, especially as her tongue flicked, and her hands twisted ever so slightly around the base, and he made a sound that sounded like a moan. That was enough for Varric, who gave him a curt nod.
Emmrich did not swear during his shoots. Not because he frowned upon it, it was normal to have surges of emotion accompanied by outbursts of foul language. No, He did not swear because it damaged his image of the always in control Cumberland. But this time, he couldn't help it, as he gave her a sharp tap on head, the signal that he could no longer hold back, and that she could pull back, or swallow. She gave a melodious hum as she pulled off with a pop, the shock of cold air the tipping point.
"Shhhhhhhhhhit"
He tried to disguise the expletive with a hiss, but seeing how Varric's brows rose in surprise, it wasn't successful. Not that he cared, as she pulled back, and he came, hard, splattering all over her face. It almost hurt to stroke himself to completion, so sensitive was every nerve, but with a few more pumps, he completed with a combination of a grunt, or a sob.
For a brief moment, his sight vanished, replaced by a bright light, like all the lighting on set had shone his eyes, before slowly, bits and pieces of the world popped into existence. He barely made out of Varric yelling 'CUT!' and the shuffling of equipment and feet as the film crew His legs felt wobbly, and it took all of his remaining stamina to keep himself from stumbling as he found a cushioned chair to collapse on.
"That's a wrap for today! Excellent job guys, got some nice footage today! How about you two get cleaned up while I figure out where we go from here."
He looked over at Ivy, her head resting against a chair cushion. Even with her face covered with his seed, she looked enchanting, with her watering eyes, flushed cheeks and puffy lips, the way her chest heaved, sweat glistening under the lights. Maker, if he was a younger man, the mere sight of her like that would be enough for him to bend her over the bed and eat her out like a starving man.
But he wasn't a young man anymore, and whatever energy he did have had somehow been sucked out of him by her, so all he could do was smile at her.
"If you would like to clean yourself up, my dear, you can go first."
"You sure?"
"I insist. I must confess, I'll need to take some time to recover. At my age…" he admitted with some reluctance, "after such an experience, I won't be moving for a while."
"Are you alright?" She asked, no doubt judging him on his lack of stamina, "You look kinda winded…" She slowly gathered her robe as she got off, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the crew.
"Never better," he admitted. "Truthfully, it's been quite a while since I've had an experience like that."
"In a good way?" She looked at him like she didn't have any clue of what she had done to him.
"Exquisite…" he said in a half whisper, partly out of exhaustion, and partly because he was afraid to admit the truth. After all, he mustn't attach any meaning to this coupling, they were just two professionals working together to provide a service, no need to make it awkward. But she must have caught it, as her already flushed cheeks reddened further.
"Just wanted to say that you're…well… you're amazing as well," She handed him his bathrobe, "I mean, it makes sense, you can't have such a long and storied career and not be good at what you do. But," she paused, looked down, almost bashful, "you- I mean, that was more than I'd ever thought possible." It looked like she wanted to say something else, but then rushed past him, towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Emmrich thought he had recovered from the experience as he took his time in the shower, washing off the sweat and smeared makeup. He thought he had finally gotten the endorphins from the mind blowing orgasm out of his system.
But he only had to look down to see that wasn't true at all. 'Refractory period,' what bollocks, he thought as his cock stood up, stiff as a board, demanding to be tended to. He tried ignoring it, tried thinking of the most unsexy thoughts, such as changing Manfred's litter box. He even tried cranking the water to ice cold, in order to cool down his lust.
But the mental images kept coming. Ivy, wet, naked, and cold. Demanding his body warmth. Squirming as he took her again, and again, and again.
Cursing, he took himself and began to pleasure himself, if only to regain some relief. He would deal with the guilt later on. Cranking the water back up to scalding, he closed his eyes and let his imagination run wild.
Ivy was in the shower with him, pressed up against the tiled wall, moaning needily into his mouth as he drove into her. Even with water washing away everything, snatches of her intoxicating scent still lingered, filling his nostrils, fueling his hunger for her.
She pulled away from him, just for a second, looking up at him with those hooded blue eyes, her fingernails scratching deep stripes down his back. The pain did not deter him, even as the hot water hit the raw flesh.
"Em-emmrich…" she stuttered between ragged breaths. "I n-need… I need…"
"Yes, darling… tell me what you need…" he answered, barely more controlled than her.
"I need your cock…"
"You have it…"
"I need…I need MORE…"
He chuckled as he increased the pace, the sound of wet flesh slapping against each other faster and faster, only stilled slightly as she suddenly wrapped her legs around his waist. She seemed to weigh no more than a feather as this new angle brought them closer and closer to the precipice."
"Emmrich…I'm…"
"Let go, my love…" he encouraged her, and she nearly screamed as she came, clenching down upon him, tighter than anything he'd ever experienced. A few more thrusts, and he joined her, tumbling over the abyss.
He came back to himself breathing heavily, watching as the evidence of his guilt was washed away by hot water. Thankfully, it had managed to do the trick, as his cock, finally sated, hung limply in his hand.
Emmrich was fairly free of shame when it came to sexual proclivities, but as he toweled himself off and looked in the mirror he had wiped free of steam, he couldn't help feeling a bit like a pervert. How had she managed to affect him like this? And why was he lusting over a woman young enough to be his daughter?
He glared at his reflection, as if to place all the guilt on the lech that stood there with sagging skin and greying hair. But there was no denying who the real culprit was: himself.
He had expected to exit the bathroom to see the last of the crew packing up. Perhaps they were talking to Varric, to see if anything else needing to be done.
What he didn't expect was to see Ivy standing there, nervously shuffling from one foot to the other. Maker, had she heard him in the shower?! Had he inadvertently said her name, and she was now about to accost him?
To his surprise, her eyes lit up as she saw him. "Oh, Emmrich! Glad I caught you! Thought you might have left!"
"My apologies for making you wait," he replied, puzzled at what she wanted from him.
"I know a wonderful little tea shop a few blocks away from here," she explained, and hearing that you have a preference for the stuff, you might be interested in stopping by for a cup? I mean," she stuttered, her cheeks flushed, "if it wouldn't be a bother for you. You don't have a Mr. or Mrs Volkarin waiting at home for you, I hope?"
"Oh, no," he admitted, "Only Manfred, and he wouldn't begrudge me being a few hours late to feed him."
"Manfred?"
"Ah yes! Manfred is my cat. Almost a son to me, albeit he does have a habit of hissing at me when he wants something."
"Oh!" She exclaimed, her vivid blue eyes lighting up, "time to pay the cat tax!"
He looked at her with puzzlement. "Cat….tax?"
"Yeah, if you mention your pet, you gotta pay the tax by showing a pic of them."
"Ah! What a delightful little custom! Let's see here…" he checked his coat pocket, "aha!" He pulled out his phone, looked through his (disappointingly meagre) selection of photos and picked the one of his favourites, of Manfred reaching to bap at a fuzzball. He turned it so she could see it.
"Oh Maker… he's adorable! Is he an Orlesian hairless Sphynx?"
"Quite correct! A… colleague," he paused as he remembered her. Celeste, a lovely woman who he thought there was something more blossoming in their relationship, but alas, like all the others, it fizzled out. "She gave him to me when we parted ways, the runt of the litter, but the most inquisitive soul!"
"Oh, look at his eyes! I've never seen such green! Almost looks like he's got a pair of emeralds!" She cooed and admired the cat, not disturbed at all about his hairless bone coloured skin, or the strange proportions.
"Hey Emmrich!" He heard Varric call him, "Can I talk to you for a moment before you go?"
"Of course," he turned back to Ivy, "There's quite a few pictures of Manfred there, if you want to browse through them, I'll be back shortly, and I'd love to accompany you for a spot of tea." Her delightful lips, which he had imagined kissing just a few minutes ago, curled up in a smile as she nodded.
Varric pulled him into a small room that was temporarily used as an office.
"You did excellent! Really authentic!" Varric smacked him on the lower back. "Neve will definitely have her hands full with editing the footage." He motioned back to Ivy, who was still busy looking at his phone, a playful smile dancing on her face.
"For a rookie, she was amazing! You two have some chemistry, and I'd love to have both of you in another film. See if you can talk into another job. She has what it takes to become a big name in the industry, if she's interested!"
"I'll see what I can do," he assured the director, hopeful that she would accept. She was a delight to work with, her body so soft and supple and… he coughed to disperse those thoughts out of his mind. She didn't deserve to be objectified like that.
He returned to see her staring intensely at the screen, startled by his approach. She hastily thrust the phone into his hands, the screen already turned off.
"He is amazing! I wish I had a cat like him. Unfortunately, where I'm from, it wouldn't be good for a cat like that."
He couldn't help but be interested, "May I ask where you're from? Nevarra obviously, from your accent."
"Ah," she said with a bit of embarrassment, "We can talk about it over a cup of tea, if you're still interested…?"
"Of course!" He replied, a bit too eagerly. "Lead the way."
She was right, the quaint little shop she suggested served some perfectly brewed tea, paired with a plate of delicate pastries. He would have to make a mental note to come here.
And even if it had served the worst bitter tea he had ever tasted, worse than the time Lucanis had attempted to make him a cup, and the pastries being hard as rock, he still would have enjoyed the place. Not because of the fare, or the ambience, but because he was with her.
He couldn't help but admire the way she tucked strands of stray hair behind her ear, the way her eyes seemed to shift between ice grey and brilliant blue depending on the light of the cafe. He adored her giddy laugh, punctuated with some rather unladylike snorts, and the way she apologized after. And her mind! She wasn't some brainless halfwit that wanted to get into the porn business for the infamy and to make a quick gulder. She and him talked for over an hour about a variety of their interests. His love of botany. Her love of science and the law.
It made him forget that just a few hours ago, she had almost sucked the life out of him.
"So, are you currently studying?"
"Yeah, currently taking classes in criminology, specializing in the psychological aspect of it. I like to see what makes people tick, so to speak."
"Ah, a noble pursuit! To truly understand why crime occurs, one must understand both the victim and the perpetrator…" He sighed nostalgically, "Ah, the halcyon days of my studies. That was how I got my start in this profession, way back in my youth. –Johanna, an old friend of mine–" he clarified, "needed extra funding for our shared project, and I had seen a wanted ad looking for 'an open minded young man, not afraid to bare it all.' And the rest they say, is history."
She laughed again, the sound of it music to his ears. "I'll be honest, I was a bit nervous accepting the role. I wasn't sure if I was cut out for this sort of thing…but I really needed the money, and in the end, thanks to you, it wasn't intimidating at all, and actually very enjoyable." A pink dusting spread on her cheeks, as she nibbled the chocolate croissant.
"I am more than delighted that I was able to make your experience a pleasant one…" Maker, he sounded like a customer service rep on the phone. "Although, I do worry about what you said about your lack of funds. Our profession should not be the last resort of the desperate."
"Oh, well…" she admitted, "I had to pay for my tuition at the Necropolis. I… was… on a full scholarship-"
"Oh, that is quite the achievement, I know the Necropolis's standards for entry are quite high, let alone a scholarship!"
"Ahem… well, like I said, was."
"Ah."
"Turns out, the nobility finds it really annoying when some nobody shows up and outscores them in grades, so they look for ways to knock her down a few pegs." She sighed, frowned as she began to tear the croissant in shreds. "So when the said nobody alerts the school authorities there's a cheating ring going on involving the upper class kids, they tend to get their noble parents to put some pressure on the dean to get them kicked out, or at the very least, get their scholarship stripped. So… I have to find other ways to pay my way. And performing in adult films wouldn't make my reputation any worse." She chuckled bitterly.
He couldn't help but gently reach for her hand, ostensibly to keep her from ripping the pastry to smithereens, but also to comfort her.
"It's depressing to see that the Necropolis is still stuck in their old ways, even after all this time. But did you not have an advocate for you, or at least family that could help you shoulder the cost?"
"Nah…" She admitted, tensing up at his touch, but not pulling away. "I'm an orphan. Specifically a foundling. Just dropped on the doorstep of the Chantry with nothing but a swaddling cloth. Not even a note."
"And yet, you have come so far, accomplished so much!" He spoke with genuine admiration. "That is no small feat, especially all on your own. And despite the injustice you have faced, you still aspire to uphold justice for all!"
That elicited a small smile from her, as her hand shifted slightly to give his own a thankful squeeze.
"You're a very nice man, Emmrich. I'm surprised you don't have someone to come home to. You seem like the ideal guy everyone wishes they had."
Now it was his turn to blush, and get distracted by his own half eaten pastry. "Ah… well…"
"Unless you're not interested in settling down with someone, that's understandable. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed…"
"Oh no!" He clarified hastily, "In truth, I've always wanted to spend my life with someone, but… with my work, it… sets expectations. When I was a young man, people assumed I wasn't the type to stay loyal to someone. They saw me more as a short term fling. As I grew older… my reputation gave people the impression that I was past my prime, and it might be unseemly to be… associated with an adult entertainer, especially one who still actively worked." He tried to keep the bitterness, the longing out of his voice, but it still seeped through. "It can be quite lonely to come to a home with just Manfred at times…"
He forgot that he was still holding her hand, until she gave it a reassuring squeeze. He looked up to see her smiling gently at him, the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes upon.
"You remember asking me about my favourite movie of yours, 'Take My Hands in Yours?' I never got to tell you what it meant to me. The fact that after the time skip, where your co-star, despite now being much younger than you due to being magically frozen in time, still had a bond that transcended petty things like ages. Gave me hope that…" she blushed again, and "Well, that nothing can keep two people apart."
It was touching to hear her say that. She obviously had given the movie, which hadn't been the most intellectual of films, deep thought. And he found that he truly agreed with her. Surely, there was someone out there for him…
Perhaps… even Ivy.
Mentally, he shook his head at that absurd thought. She was young, full of potential. She had her whole life in front of her! She didn't need a lecherous old man dragging her down.
Her phone chirped, and she grabbed it. "Ah crap!" She looked at him apologetically as she withdrew her hand. "I'm really sorry Emmrich, but I gotta go! Class starts really early tomorrow, and I also have to cram in some studying for midterms."
"Of course! I wouldn't want to hold you back from your studies," he lied. In truth, he wished she could stay with him forever, no matter how stupid the idea sounded. "It's been a pleasure working and spending time with you!" Now, THAT was the truth. He looked outside, to where the world outside had gone dark, only illuminated by streetlights. Where had all the time gone? "Would you like me to escort you home?" He offered a bit too hopefully.
"Aw, you're so sweet! But I'll be fine! I just live a couple blocks away." She began to hurriedly gather her things.
Of course she'd decline. What was he thinking!? He was coming across as a creepy old man.
"It's been a pleasure working with you, Ivy. I'd like-" he stopped himself. 'I'd like to work with you again.' sounded incredibly insulting. Almost as bad as 'I'd like to see you again.'"
"Same! Welp…" she awkwardly stood there for a brief moment, "Bye!"
And then she was off, hurrying down the street into the darkness, while he watched her from the window.
He spent the next few minutes in silence. He had done this before, many times. Met someone new, someone he thought he might have a connection with, get his heart invested… and then crushed. Why did he keep inflicting this pain upon himself? Especially as he had absolutely no chance with someone as vibrant as-
He felt a buzz at his hip. Puzzled, he fished out his phone, to see who had messaged him at this time of night. Perhaps Varric?
The name surprised him.
hey, it's ivy. just wanted to let you know i got home safe.
There was a pause as the three dots indicated she hadn't finished typing
sorry, i kinda added your number to my phone when
i was looking at pics of manfred. hope you don't mind.
He couldn't help but chuckle at her cleverness.
There's no need to apologise.
It's good to hear that you
got home safe and sound.
A pause for a few moments, then another message:
hey. just wanted to say thank you again for
everything you did today. had a lot of fun!😄
Warm bubbles fluttered within him as he responded, but he had to remind himself she was being polite.
Likewise. I am glad you enjoyed yourself.
I wish you the best in your future studies.
Another pause as the dots seem to pulsate for what seemed an eternity
wanna do something like this again? i mean… go out.
doesn't have to be the tea shop. maybe go to the park or something
He frowned. No doubt she was merely looking up to him as a mentor, in case she wished to continue finding roles in films. Perhaps he could put in a good word for her with Varric? Still, he wouldn't mind spending more time with her, even on a merely proffessional basis.
Of course! There's a park near the
Nevarra City Library. That way if the
weather turns foul, we still have shelter.
that sounds great! does next wednesday sound good?
like… 4 pm?
He looked at his schedule. Aside from his morning yoga class, his day was clear.
Sounds delightful! I will be there post-haste!
awesome! It's a date!😘
He stared at that last message, rereading over and over again. Surely he was misreading it. But no, she had deliberately used the word 'date', and to hammer the point across, had added a kissing emoji to the end. His brain kept finding reasons, excuses for it. She was young, carefree with her communication, she meant nothing with it. Don't get your hopes up.
His heart on the other hand… it said something quite different.
Give her… give your feelings one more chance…
He sat back in his chair, smiling like an idiot at his screen. After a while, he glanced out the window. Not at the darkened street, but at his own reflection. The same old man looked back at him, but this time, he looked different. Not younger, but more assured, more confident.
And he was pretty sure it wasn't because he had stopped slouching.