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Glad You're Here	By : fallindeath Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2481 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins. I do not make money from the writing of this fanfiction

Chapter List
- 1-Glad You're Here
- 2-Glad You're Here ch 2
- 1
- 2
A/N: This is a Rowan Tabris fic. Another prompt from the DA kink_meme. Prompt was 'fun, happy sex'. Happy reading.
Glad You're Here
Rowan knew only one thing at the moment and that was just how much he did not want to be there right now.
The Blight was over. Barely. Not a full week ago. He'd survived…thanks to Morrigan. He shuddered thinking about it—the unknown consequences of his actions preyed on his mind when he wasn't occupied with other things. But he couldn't make himself be sorry that he survived. Perhaps that was selfish, but after all he'd been through he figured he deserved to be a little selfish…just a little.
The tiresome thing at the moment was yet another meeting with Lord of this and Lady of that. Did none of these shem realize how much he needed to just rest? To sleep for a week without disturbance was all he really wanted. He may have survived killing the Arch demon but he certainly hadn't come away unscathed. All the fighting throughout Denerim before hand and then the actual killing blow had taken their toll. He was told there was a great explosion and the next he knew he was waking up two days later in the castle, which had thankfully survived the darkspawn.
The nobles, he understood that they all wanted to express their gratitude and offer their allegiances not only to Alistair, their new king, but to the newly appointed Warden Commander. But honestly, if he was forced to sit through one more formality he was going to rip his hair out. Not a very manly thing to do, but he was going to do it nonetheless. Zevran, for one, would mourn the loss of his hair.
Speaking of the other elf he looked across the table to Zevran. The Antivan was his anchor through all this. He made it possible to bear. Rowan often found himself searching the crowds desperately for his lover when he was surrounded by the shem. Unfortunately he was still not entirely comfortable in their company. Life in the Alienage, and what happened in Fort Drakon were not so easily forgotten. When he found his sexy lover talking up the people around him like it was the most natural thing in the world, it put Rowan at ease. Especially when Zevran often met his gaze and offered a smile and a wink, as if he'd felt his warden's need for reassurance.
Zevran did that now. But this time, there must have been something in Rowan's expression that the Antivan interpreted as a serious call for help. Before Rowan knew what was happening Zevran was yanking him to his feet and pulling him from the hall amidst protests from King Alistair and the posted guard who would oversee the proceedings.
"Excuse me, my lords," Zevran called over his shoulder, his thick Antivan accent curling a deep warmth in Rowan's stomach. "But something very pressing has just come up that demands the Warden Commander's attention."
Zevran always sounded so confident, unquestionable. Rowan never really got a grasp on that particular skill. Luckily for him, everyone was at the moment so awed by him that it didn't matter what he said, they listened like he was the Maker himself; the Hero of Ferelden. He could probably get away with scratching his bum in front of them like good ol' Sandal and they wouldn't fault him for it. He wondered how long such fame would last. How long before they forgot what he did for them? How long before elves were just dirty, lowly elves again…?
"What?" Alistair stumbled over his surprise at their abrupt departure for a moment. "You can't leave me here alone. H-hey! Wait."
Once out the door, Zevran cast an entirely too mischievous grin over his shoulder at his warden and Rowan found himself laughing.
They had only turned a few corners when they heard the Hall's doors bang open and Alistair shouting for guards to bring them back because he was not facing the nobles without them.
Rowan laughed again. He couldn't help it. It seemed to be contagious because Zevran turned to jog backwards still holding his hand, chuckling low so as not to be heard.
"Quiet, my dear warden," he grinned, whispering. "We are escaping in secret."
This of course, only started a giggling fit that Rowan strove valiantly to keep quiet, but he was failing miserably. They heard the stomping of armor boots clanging loudly down the hall behind them. The guards were gaining ground. There were no doorways to duck into, and the hall was long. Zevran pulled his warden into a mad dash to reach the end of the hall before the guards passed the corridor entrance. Just in time he yanked Rowan around the corner after him. Pressing his back against the brick wall he pulled his warden into his arms back to chest and covered Rowan's mouth with his hand.
The breath from his lover's nose blew across his knuckles in rapid, excited puffs. His warden was still trying to control his quiet laughter. While they listened to their passing pursuers' footsteps, Zevran took advantage of their position and nuzzled into his warden's deliciously long orange hair—the lighter orange of sunrise…
Zevran inhaled his scent and whispered in his sensitive ear. "May I remind you, my delectable warden, that we are attempting to be incognito." Rowan's shoulders shook with a new bout of muffled laughter. Zevran could barely contain his own mirth. "Fine. I have no choice but to punish you."
He pulled Rowan with him a little farther down until they found an empty sitting room. Zevran pushed his warden inside then locked the door behind them. The curtains over the tall floor to ceiling windows were tied back and the late afternoon sun lit the small but elegantly tasteful couches and end tables that were centered around a very thick, richly patterned rug that covered much of the floor. It looked comfortably warmed by the sun streaming through the windows and too inviting to pass up.
When Rowan turned to him Zevran grabbed his lover's biceps and guided him backwards ahead of him till they reached the center of the plush rug. Then he quite happily shoved Rowan onto his back. A whoosh of air escaped Rowan's lungs when he landed, but he was laughing too much to care.
Zevran stood over him, hands on his hips, a triumphant smirk played across his lips. His beloved warden, out of breath, beautiful in his laughter, splayed before him. Those lavender eyes that made him ache staring up at him. It was a heady feeling knowing the young hero belonged to him.
"My dear warden," he said. "Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you?"
Rowan halted his laughter long enough to attempt a controlled answer.
"I have an inkling," he said, grinning back.
"Oh, you do, do you?" Zevran chuckled when Rowan winked at him and rolled his hips up once. With an eyebrow quirked, Zevran continued. "I see you do."
Zevran stepped up between his warden's spread legs and started pulling off his richly colored vest and silk shirt. Rowan sucked in his laughter to moan softly at the sight of the Antivan's tan, naked chest. Zevran smirked, rubbing one hand over his taut abdomen and then up to circle a nipple. Rowan shifted against the rug and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. Zevran watched it slip out slowly. Catching himself before a moan of his own escaped, Zevran looked back up to meet that lavender gaze.
"You like what you see, warden?" Zevran asked with a growing smile.
"Mmm, yes," Rowan's brow drew together in want.
"Well, you can't have it," Zevran deadpanned and turned to walk away.
"What?" Rowan sat straight up, watching his lover's back as he walked to the door. He quickly pulled off his boot and chucked it at the blonde.
Zevran's lifetime training as an assassin was the only thing that saved him from the projectile. Jumping to the side as the boot hit the door Zevran turned back to his lover with a wicked grin.
"Violence, warden?" Zevran tsked as he slowly moved back to his waiting lover.
"And much more if you don't get over here," Rowan promised. Zevran chuckled, approaching as slowly as any good assassin stalking a target.
"Take off your shirt first, if you please," he said. Rowan lifted a brow, but quickly obeyed. Zevran gave a low whistle once his lover's upper body was revealed. "The belt now, take it off." Again Rowan did as he was told. When Zevran stopped at his feet and simply stared at him, he grew impatient.
"Zevran, if you do not-ah!"
The Antivan reached down so quickly that Rowan had no time to react. Zevran grabbed his other foot and yanked it up causing him to fall back against the rug. Rowan laughed as his boot was pulled off and tossed over a shoulder. Then he felt a testing tug on both pant legs before, in one great tug, his trousers were yanked right off.
"Zevran!"
"Oh, my dear dear warden," Zevran cooed. "That is what I like to see." Rowan blushed, not because he was embarrassed about not wearing any small clothes underneath, but because Zevran drew embarrassing, heated attention to everything Rowan did that aroused the assassin. Rowan learned early on that what aroused his lover doubled his own need.
"Mmn, Zevran," Rowan groaned when the blonde knelt on the rug beside him. "You better do something fast."
"Or what?" Zevran challenged.
"Or," Rowan pretended to think it over a moment. "Or I walk out that door and tell Alistair where to find you."
"Ah," Zevran chuckled. "But then you will also be caught, and nude as the day the Maker gave you life, I might add. And not to be cruel, my dear warden, but it is you, not I, that the nobles are coming to see. So, I fail to see the threat in your," he leaned down and kissed him, "threat."
Rowan scowled up at him. Zevran laughed.
"Come, come, don't look at me so." He continued to laugh when his warden's expression did not change. "It is not my fault you cannot think of a proper threat to get what you want."
Rowan's fine brow pinched in thought. He looked straight up at his lover and as serious as he could muster, he said, "I'll cut off my hair."
Zevran sucked in a breath as he studied his warden. "Never was I more wrong, my dear, you are a bargaining force to be reckoned with."
Rowan smiled sweetly, glad to have won. Zevran settled over his warden's naked hips and tangled a hand in that very hair he treasured so much.
"All threats and joking aside," he murmured. "I could never resist you, you must know this."
"I know this," Rowan answered playfully. "So do what we came here to do, assassin."
Zevran kissed him deeply to shut him up, all the while amused by his young lover's sassing. This, he mused, is what his warden would have been like for years yet to come if it hadn't been for the blight and the twist of fate that led Rowan from the Alienage. In many ways the blight had stolen Rowan's youth. But times like this, now that the danger was over, would occur more often, he hoped. Rowan would be going to Amaranthine to begin rebuilding the Gray Wardens, and Zevran had every intention to follow him. He would never be parted from his warden. After all, he'd sworn an oath. But that wasn't for some months and Zevran planned to take advantage of their down time, and Rowan, as much as possible.
Rowan was rotating his hips up against him, gasping around Zevran's kiss. Small uncontrollable utterances of need escaped his warden's lips and Zevran drank it up. Deft hands roamed the assassin's back kneading in places and gripping for purchase in others. When those nimble fingers found the waist of Zevran's pants, Rowan moaned in complaint. Zevran pulled away and chuckled at his warden's childish pout.
"All right, my warden, for you."
He sat up and unlaced his pants before sliding them easily down his narrow hips.
"Yes, amore," Zevran said catching Rowan's blushing smirk. "I also have apparently forgotten my underclothes. The scandal the pair of us make."
Rowan's protesting remark turned into a surprised hum of pleasure when Zevran's mouth latched around the head of his sex. The assassin's tongue was a wicked thing; wicked to be able to wrest such noises from the young, alienage-grown elf who'd led such a sheltered life. Hard and ruthless in many cases, but sheltered. The knowledge Rowan had had of sex and all its pleasures were basic theory, certainly nothing involving another man, and no one warned him there were people who could do this to him. Make him writhe, and moan, and want, and need.
Nothing could have ever prepared him for Zevran. Early on in their relationship Zevran's obvious skill made Rowan feel inadequate, or that Zevran deserved someone who could make him feel half as good as the assassin made Rowan feel. When finally Rowan had gotten up the courage to address the issue, Zevran only looked at him for a long time. Then finally, slowly, he said, "My dear warden, you make me feel more in one night than a hundred lifetimes in Antiva ever could have."
Rowan knew from that moment on something that would take his lover many months to figure out on his own, and even longer to admit.
Rowan did not worry after that. He learned, eagerly, and whatever he might have lacked in experience or skill he made up for in enthusiasm, as Zevran pointed out with no shortage of amusement. Rowan couldn't take offense to the comment due to the honest delight in Zevran's eyes when he said it.
As deliciously wicked as that hot, wet mouth was…sliding up and down…licking…sucking…swallowing…
Rowan's hips bucked almost violently, the room echoed back the sound he'd made when his lover's throat constricted around him and he didn't recognize it as his own. He reached with both hands for his assassin's face and drew him up and away from his agonizingly hard length.
Zevran watched his warden lift his head to meet his gaze. Sweat trailed down from Rowan's temples, his cheeks were heated and flushed a beautiful rosy color against his creamy, sun-kissed skin. Those lavender eyes were hooded and dilated with arousal. The young hero was definitely on the edge, so to speak.
"Please," Rowan rasped, trying to catch his breath. "Not yet. I want you in me."
Zevran smiled. "Of course, dearest warden. I always aim to please." His disarming smile slid into a mischievous grin when he noticed a generous amount of pre-cum leak out and slide down his warden's beautifully rigid cock. "Just one more taste." He started to return to his favored chore when Rowan wound a hand in his blonde hair.
"Nooo," he moaned. "If you so much as lick me, I'll come."

That's it for now. Thank you for reading, now please review!
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Glad You're Here