Varric walks by holding a book.

You spend the next few hours seated on your throne, presiding over land disputes. You can't help but give a depressed sigh, even as the young blonde at your feet bobs away on your cock.

You can't recall her name but she was Fereldan farm girl your soldiers picked up after bandits burnt down her village. Being the kind-hearted and compassionate leader you are, you offered her a job in your tavern provided, of course, she was able to pass your rigorous inspection.

And Andraste's fiery bush was she not passing inspection! You have to wonder if this was the first cock she's ever sucked in her life, judging by her fundamental lack of anything resembling skill or technique. You were really starting to regret giving Morrigan the afternoon off to play with that creepy kid of hers.

Whereas an accomplished cock slut like Morrigan could swallow you to the base, this girl can barely seem to put her mouth on you without flying into a fit of gagging. And she's not even considerate enough to jack you off while she's gasping for air. She gives your head a few licks, like it's fine Orlesian candy, and yet somehow manages to miss all your most sensitive spots.

If you had the time or the patience, you could probably train her up to be a halfway decent cocksucker. But given the fact you're in the middle of a war, you can't exactly be teaching every farmer's daughter this side of the Frostbacks how to swallow the sausage. Struggling just to stay hard at this point, which is quite the feat considering your throne induced virility, you decide it's time to cut your losses with the girl and look for new diversions to occupy your time.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot your dwarven pal Varric strolling the throne room with a book tucked under his arm. The devious smile on his face makes it clear he's up to something.

You quickly lift the girl's head from your lap before standing up to dismount the throne, your limp prick dragging across the girl's forehead as you step over her on your way to the dwarf.

"Varric!" you call out, attempting to catch up with your diminutive friend near the fireplace.

“Inquisitor!” the dwarf greets you warmly. “Making the most of this lovely morning, I hope."

"Hardly, I'm bored to tears." you gripe before pointing to his book. "What is it you have there?

His face reverts back to the wicked grin you saw him sporting just a few moments ago.

"Oh, this? You're looking at the newest chapter in my worst-selling Swords & Shields series."

He tosses you the freshly bound novel, casually folding his arms as you begin to inspect it.

The illustrated cover depicts a stern redheaded heroine brandishing a titular sword and shield as a horde of fearsome knights charge her from all directions. Flipping the book over, you have to laugh at the author's portrait on the back which portrayed Varric contending with a horde of his very own. Posing with a look of smug satisfaction, your dwarven friend is surrounded by beautiful buxom women with their hands draped all over his hairy chest and back.

"Is this for-?" you start to ask.

"Two hundred and sixty pages of unapologetic sleaze for our Seeker's enjoyment." he grins.

Your mind flashes back to the day you caught a profoundly embarrassed Cassandra reading a smut novel written by none other than Varric himself. Those hot and heavy romance serials, which "sold like wet nug shit" according to their very own author, had surprisingly found a devoted audience with the uptight Seeker Pentaghast.

Upon learning the last release concluded on a cliffhanger, Cassandra had pressured you into using your authority as Inquisitor to **** Varric into finishing the final chapter. This was all well before you had acquired your throne so you most likely caved on the faint hope that she might repay your efforts with a sexual favor.

Given Varric's animosity towards the Seeker, you expected a difficult time trying to convince him but to your pleasant surprise, he required very little coercing to agree to finish the series.

"It's such a terrible idea. I have to do it," you remember him saying when you approached him.

And now, here you are, holding that terrible idea in your hands.

"I'm sure Cassandra will be pleased to see this," you remark.

"Just remember our deal," Varric brings up. "I get to be there when you hand over the book."

You vaguely recall making such a promise. And while you weren't always a man of your word, Varric is a loyal friend and you have no reason to deny him the look on Cassandra's face when you hand over the smut.

"Well then," you declare, handing him back the book. "Let's not keep the Seeker waiting..."

"After you, Inquisitor."

Descending the staircases leading into your courtyard, you find Cassandra in her usual spot across from the tavern. Trusty sword in hand, she hacks away at her training dummy before noticing the two of you approaching from behind.

"What have you done now?" she asks, her voice steeped in heavy suspicion and annoyance.

"Easy, Seeker." Varric teases, reaching into his tunic. "You can relax. I've come bearing gifts."

She stares at him incredulously, clearly **** of any "gift" the dwarf could have for her.

"The next chapter of Swords & Shields." he reveals, holding up the book. "I hear you're a fan."

You watch Cassandra's wary gaze travel from the book to Varric's smug face and back down to the book before finally setting her eyes on you as her upper lip curls into a bitter sneer.

"This is your doing," she scolds you, speaking in a tone better suited for a petulant child than the leader of the Inquisition. You open your mouth, eager to remind her whose idea this whole book nonsense was before Varric manages to chime in first.

"Well, if you're not interested, you're not interested." he shrugs, before turning his back to the Seeker and beginning to walk away. Or at least pretending to. "Still needs editing anyhow..."

"Wait!" she calls out, falling for Varric's bait. Letting out a faint chuckle, the dwarf turns back.

"I bet you're probably wondering what happens to the Knight-Captain..." he guesses.

"Nothing should happen to her!" Cassandra frets. "She was falsely accused!"

Varric smiles, running his thumb along the novel's spine. "Well, it turns out the guardsman..."

"Don't tell me!" she yells as she attempts to snatch the book from his hands.

"Hold it..." Varric stops her, pulling it just out of her reach. "You want it, you've got to earn it."

She balks, folding her arms in contempt. "And how exactly do you expect me to do that?"

"I'm thinking we'd let our virtuous Inquisitor decide," Varric says, looking in your direction.

"Me?" you repeat, having zoned a bit as you often did whenever these two start bickering.

"Of course." Varric asserts. "You're the Herald of Andraste after all. Any judgment you render would have the full and total blessing of the Maker himself," he said, with a hint of snark. "Isn't that right, Seeker?"

You notice Cassandra's eyes absentmindedly glance toward the stocks where the former Grand Duchess Florianne is serving time as a public cum dump for her crimes against the Inquisition.

"I...suppose so." she swallows.

"Then it's settled." Varric claps, rubbing his palms together. "The decision is yours, Inquisitor."

The two of them stare at you expectantly as you scratch your chin in deliberation...