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Tainted Dreams	By : wyldehart Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All characters and Dragon Age are property of Bioware/EA. I made no money, sadly.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
(Apologies for the lemony beginning. This story is going to get dark soon so we may as well start light and fluffy.)
"Good afternoon, my love! I brought you some food and a cup of pure, cold water," Alistair said cheerfully as he roused his sleepy wife. She blinked her teal eyes up at him and tried to think through what he'd just announced. Afternoon? Afternoon? She rubbed her red hair out of her eyes. "What do you mean, 'afternoon'? Please tell me you're joking. Surely I haven't slept that long!" she moaned, holding his face so she could look into his laughing golden-brown eyes. He kissed her heartily and rolled over onto the bed, causing it to bounce underneath her.
"Well, all right. It's not afternoon yet. But it's damn close. In two more hours, I find a couple pieces of bread, lots of cheese, a bit of meat and some oil and I make a sandwich," he told her with a dreamy sigh.
She blinked her eyes at him as it dawned on her just how late it was. "But you let me sleep in so late! I never sleep this late."
He shrugged and handed her the plate of some kind of meat, eggs and a fried concoction of tubers and sliced mushrooms. There was buttered toast as well. She was thankful for it but remained aghast that he let her sleep in so long. She ate the fried tubers and sweet venison with relish. She was hungry and had forgotten just how good well-prepared deer could be. The eggs were perfect. "You haven't slept this well in ages. No nightmares, no bad dreams… I wasn't about to squander the peace you were enjoying. You needed it."
"Maybe so but that doesn't mean you wait until lunch to awaken me. Does Harrowmont really have cheese for sandwiches?" she asked him softly.
Alistair nodded excitedly. "Oh yes! King Harrowmont keeps this amazing 'Redcliffe White' that's sharp but sweet and oh so rich! Did you know we make cheese in Redcliffe?" Alistair rolled over onto his side, his eyes dancing with a smile that crossed his face from cheek to cheek. He was adorable. Elissa smiled in return and shook her head. "We do! You see, there was a lady, an old woman I stumbled upon as boy while hiding from Bann Teagan. I believe I had just thrown mud at him… Anyway, I entered someone's house covered in mud and she took one look at me and stuck me in a bath. She didn't even ask me my name. But she did let me watch her make her cheese. And… she let me eat it too. Until that old cheese-maker, I never knew that cheese was made from… Can you guess?"
Elissa laughed, relishing his cheery mood. "Rotten milk?" she giggled.
"No!" he said excitedly. "Rot-ting milk! Even after the cheese is solid, it continues to age depending on the processes the cheese-maker uses to produce it. It's only when it's sealed in wax and taken out of its environment does it become what we know and love as cheese. I'm sorry. Am I babbling?"
She pushed him over onto his back and proceeded to kiss him. "I find it very cute when you babble, my sweet." Her kisses were becoming very hot and her hand was doing amazing things to his groin. Had she removed his cod-piece already? Maker's Mercy, the woman was quick! He rolled her over with a quick kiss and practically bounced out of the bed. "I'm sorry, love. I can't, ah, be playful with you right now. I'm stuck playing 'Royal visitor' to King Harrowmont and I promised I would return after checking on you."
Elissa pouted and pushed herself onto the side of the bed. She carefully unbelted his armor from around his waist and dropped it piece by piece to the floor. "Don't I… owe you?" she purred sweetly. He swallowed hard as she hungrily continued the day prior's oral entertainment. He had to go back. He needed to go back. He was stuck as surely as if he'd been rooted to the spot. The thing about Elissa Theirin was that she rarely backed down from a challenge and that included him saying "no" to her advances. Oh, he could try but she always won in the end.
Nearly an hour later, they were lying naked in bed together with her fingers tracing little swirls into his smooth skin. There was a faint dusting of short, blond hair but unless you knew it was there, you couldn't see it. She liked to run her fingers against the grain of it and trace the circumference of his areolas with her nails. He giggled.
Alistair liked to claim he wasn't ticklish but Elissa had learned that claim was untrue. You just had to know where to go. And in an ironic twist of fate, his ticklish spots tended to overlap his erogenous areas. It seemed to entertain her to no end knowing that at the same time she was making him laugh, she was turning him on. That was why tickle fights between them seldom occurred in public; they never lasted very long and often ended up with him shoving her up against a wall, her dress hiked up to her waist, her thighs encircling his hips and his loins embracing hers as he devoured her lips with his mouth.
For Alistair, sex was one of those things he'd learned to thoroughly enjoy since first becoming her lover. He was glad he'd waited for her but at the same time, he often wondered how he'd made it without it for so long. In the end, he wasted no time making up for all those lost years. It helped that his wife was a willing participant who had a hunger that matched (and sometimes eclipsed) his own. Fortunately for them, being King had its privileges and being 'fashionably late' as necessary was one of them.
"You're an evil woman, Your Majesty…" he murmured to her as his fingers caressed her bare shoulder. Those fingers trailed down the swell of her breast to stroke her nipple. Pregnancy, he noted with a thrill, was doing amazing things to her already incredible body. Firstly, her large breasts seemed fuller, the nipples huge and dark. They were like twin bull's-eyes for his pleasure. Then there was the sexy sway of her hips and the way her spine began to curve, causing her round bottom to stick out prominently. Finally, she exuded this air of femininity and softness. He hadn't married a soft woman and nor did he want to but his wife just seemed so incredibly sexy to him right now. He loved it. "Poor King Harrowmont is still waiting for me to return and here I am, ensnared in your web of lust. You've already sucked me dry. Now what do you plan to do with me?"
She leaned over him and used her tongue to tease his nipple. "Hmm. I could tie you to the bed and leave you alone for a while so that I can visit Ambrose and return with your lunch… Then you would be helpless and I could do anything I want to you…"
He laughed, pulling her against him. "Maker, but I am a lucky man to have such a vixen as my wife. But that Cailan had been so lucky, he might have had an heir! Alas, it is I who benefits. Sadly, as entertaining as your idea sounds, I really think I should go back to the Dwarves' king. Have I told you I love you today?" He pushed her face away, his fingers tracing her chin and cheek and gazed deeply into her mesmerizing teal eyes.
She kissed his lips playfully, nipping at them. "Maybe while you were in passion's throes but not since. I'll hear it again, if I must…" she sighed dramatically.
He told her he loved her in a low murmur as he kissed her lightly. Then, slowly, reluctantly, he rose from the bed and stretched. She watched him from where she lay on her back, her eyes holding a soft, dreamy look in them. He leaned over the bed and covered his mouth with hers briefly before starting to dress. Eventually, she too rose and donned a calf-length gown of soft blue wool and black satin. "So you plan to check in on the patient, do you?" Alistair asked her as he tightened the last buckle of his armor.
She nodded and stood before a short mirror, checking the size of her swelling midsection. She cupped her hands under her belly, looking at herself from all angles. She still wasn't very big but she had grown considerably over the past few weeks since discovering she was pregnant. "I want to ask him about the letter. I need to know what is going on."
Alistair approached her from behind and reached around her body to lay his hands over hers, the both of them holding her belly from underneath. He rested his chin upon her shoulder and smiled into the image reflected back at them. He wanted to preserve it forever. Cheek to cheek they stood, bodies pressed close, holding the thing that mattered most to them. "I agree. The sooner this all gets sorted out, the sooner we can get back home to Denerim and you can just simply enjoy being pregnant."
She blinked at his reflection in the mirror and locked her eyes with his. "'Enjoy being pregnant'?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "You're welcome to 'enjoy' the retching, the stretch-marks, the sleepless nights, the mood-swings and the fatigue. Oh and let us not forget the 'look like a swollen cow' part. By all means, Alistair my love! Be my guest!"
He made a sour face at her and shook his head. "Not a chance. And here I was thinking it was normally a pleasant thing… You women make it all look so easy. Nope. I'll just stick to doing the easy part of grinning like a fool as you seduce me."
She turned around in his arms and looped her arms around his neck. "And you are so easily seduced. I have only to bat my eyes… Oh and thank you for breakfast. You were quite tasty."
He smiled as he held her. "You can thank King Harrowmont. He suggested it."
She laughed and hugged his neck tightly. "No-no. I didn't mean the food… I meant the delicious meat stick I got to enjoy first… It was so big and thick…"
He immediately turned a shade of red normally seen on apples at the height of harvesting. "Ah… The… Right. Uh… Heh-heh… Um… Thanks?"
She kissed his cheek, giggling, and after a quick check of the room, they headed out to Orzammar's quiet Diamond Quarter. Unlike the noisy, bustling commons, the Diamond quarter had an almost cloister-like quiet to it. It was unsettling. As they walked, Elissa looked sideways up at Alistair. "Ah… I have a question. Have you ever had an itch you had so often that eventually you grew accustomed to it and didn't realize had been there until one day it went away?"
He grinned and squeezed her hand. "My darling, if you want information on chronic itching, you might want to ask Oghren or Zevran instead. I'm hardly an expert."
She laughed and gave him a playful shove. "I'm serious, Alistair!"
Casually, affectionately, he draped his arm about her shoulders, savoring briefly the difference in their heights. "Yes, so am I. I've never been in that situation and nor do I plan to."
She laughed again, knowing full well that she was being teased. As she laughed, a noble glanced sharply in their direction as if about to chastise them for their playful banter. "Alistair, since the first nightmare, I've had a… nagging sensation, like an itch. At first, it disturbed me but eventually I learned to ignore it. But since coming down here, I'm at ease, no sensation."
He blinked at her as they stopped just outside the infirmary. "Huh. Why do you think that is? I noticed how peacefully you slept. It was refreshing."
She shook her head and hugged him; her arms keeping him close against her for a moment. "I don't know, Alistair. I find it all very strange. Nothing makes sense right now except you. You have a way of keeping me grounded, you know. I'm glad you insisted on coming along."
He held her tightly and exhaled into her red hair. "Aye, my love. I'd have been a terrible husband if I had not come. It was your idea, if I recall. We will see this through. One way or another, the pieces will begin to fit and when they do, we can head home, mysteries solved and the world none the wiser for our efforts."
He kissed her lips a final time before holding the door for her. "Meet me in Harrowmont's study when you get done, my love. We'll have lunch and more, ah, pleasantries with our gracious host." The way he said that made her giggle. Alistair was someone who dealt well with the social requirements of being king but he preferred direct action over simply talking things through. It probably was a result of his scattered upbringing and his path as a warrior, Elissa decided. He was bored out of his mind and wanted to just get back on the road and deal with whatever surprises lay in store. They parted company with a final quick kiss and Elissa waited for the door to close before continuing.
"Hello?" she said as she ducked inside the infirmary. She was greeted by a healer who recognized the human as one of the visiting Grey Wardens and gestured for her to follow. Down a hall and to the right, the healer led her to their final destination, a door with two names written on plaques. She opened the door and Elissa smiled at a young dwarven man lying on his belly in a bed. The curtain to his alcove was wide open while the second alcove had its curtain firmly shut. The patient was propped up under his chest with pillows so that he could read a book. He spotted her and waved. "Hi! You must be Elissa. Are you coming to see your friend? He was right! You really are pretty. Between you 'n me, I think he likes you. Really likes you. Have a good visit!" She didn't know why but she was blushing. Not since her childhood had a man other than Alistair viewed her as anything other than a friend. The notion of Ambrose finding her attractive was disconcerting and she tried to ignore it.
She pushed her way through a curtain to the second alcove where Ambrose was in a similar position. She grabbed a chair and pulled it close to the bed. Ambrose looked up at her with one bushy brow raised and then looked away. His face was dark with stubble and he looked gaunt, frail even. "What do you want?" he grumbled in his thick Orlesian accent.
She smiled gently and placed her hand upon his shoulder. "To see how you were. I sincerely feel bad for the bolt. Can you forgive me?"
He flinched at her touch and shook his head against the pillow. "There is nothing to forgive. It was an accident and no harm done. There. Done. Can you leave me now?"
She shook her head and withdrew the note. "I need you to explain some things to me, if you don't mind. Yesterday, you blurted out that you thought your wife was in danger…" Ambrose waved his hand dismissively. "Nat! The ravings of a drugged, pain-blind fool. You heard wrong. Leave me now."
Elissa sighed and slipped the note under his hand. He took it and blinked his eyes at it. She thought she saw tears. "You… You went through my things? Read my personal missives? How dare you?" he cried incredulously.
"It fell out of your armor when Alistair lifted you to bring you here. Yes, we did read it but it was for concern of you. We are trying to understand you so that we can help you. Are you in trouble? Is your wife in danger?"
Ambrose's eyes flashed with something Elissa swore looked like terror. They were wide, wet and so inexplicably sad. "I… cannot say."
She was determined to find the answer. "Ambrose, I don't understand. What do you mean? Is someone close to you in trouble? Are you in trouble?" she pressed him, her hands touching his arm.
He reached for her hands and held them tightly, his eyes haunted and streaming with tears. "I have told you, woman, I cannot say! But I will tell you this, Mon ce'air," he squeezed her hands in his sweating palms. "When I have delivered you to those who sent me, my life will at last return to the way it was and I can finally be at peace again, do you understand?" He was weeping now. It was the most vulnerable side she had ever seen of him and her heart ached for the man.
She shook her head, utterly confused. "I… I'm not getting you at all, Ambrose. You're scaring me, in fact."
He drew her face close to his and swallowed. She watched the lump in his long, lean neck roll with each nervous gulp and his dilated, blood-shot eyes had a wild look in them. His breath was hot against her face and smelled of some herb he'd been fed by the healers to help with the pain. He was struggling against something and the fear he felt was palpable. He spoke as if he feared being overheard or even… overthought. "I cannot deny your assumptions but they are just that, they are just assumptions. Is this understood?"
"So… You are in trouble?" Elissa was thoroughly confused but thought she was catching on.
"I CANNOT SAY. Just drop it and leave me be. I have given you as much answer as I can." Resolute, he turned away and faced the wall opposite where she sat. She tried to speak with him again but failed to get more than a stubborn, "We're finished here, Mon ce'air. Take your leave and do not speak of this again."
Unhappy with the conversation's outcome, Elissa walked out of the room and looked into the first alcove at the young dwarven male as a healer applied a salve to his healthy bottom. He waved at her cheerfully and she smiled awkwardly in return. She retraced her earlier footsteps back to the Palace and down the halls to the King's Study where both kings were engaged in an energetic discussion about the consort's role in the kingdom. Alistair favored a case-by-case basis where the consort has anywhere from equal say in most things (as Elissa tended to have) down to very little depending on the consort herself. Harrowmont had a more traditional opinion. "You're king and that's it. Your spouse is simply your spouse and the source of your heirs," he was saying. Elissa walked in just in time to hear Alistair disagree.
"My wife is as much a queen as I am a King. Yes, my blood secures me to the throne but it is Elissa's wisdom and her knowledge of the Bannorn and our Arlings that makes her valuable as a queen. There are times when I defer to her," he said.
Harrowmont shook his head and held up his hand. "Sire, you actually defer to your consort? But that's…"
"…not as crazy as you think, your majesty. I was a noblewoman long before Alistair became heir let alone King. My upbringing was designed to prepare me to rule the mightiest Teyrnir in the kingdom and I understand the nobility well. Many were my friends or my parents' friends. Alistair has benefitted greatly from this as has Ferelden in general. So, consider it two against one? May I borrow my husband, your majesty? Just for a few minutes?" The king smiled and nodded his head. He made up some excuse and left the pair alone. Elissa sat down next to Alistair and detailed everything Ambrose had told her. Alistair listened closely, his eyebrows drawn, the expression on his youthful face seeming to age him. When she concluded, her king sighed and leaned back against the couch he was sitting on with his eyes closed.
"And the 'pot' thickens… This 'stew' is becoming less and less to my liking. Ambrose himself is the key to this mess. I wish we could just turn back and go home, Elissa…" he sighed. He knew she was not going to allow that but he could hope. But the look on her face was accepting and she laid her hand over his arm. "Do you really want to?" she asked. She actually sounded hopeful.
He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "You know we can't. I won't say I'm kidding when I say I want to go home but something foul is afoot that maybe we can fix and if we can fix it, we should try. We owe that bastard that much. He all but asked you for help so… I'm not about ruin my goody two-shoes reputation by suddenly becoming a selfish ass." That statement earned him a kiss on the cheek and a promise to end the day the same way it was begun. His cheeks grew warm at the thought. "You were willing to just drop this whole thing? For me?" he asked.
She snuggled up against him and nodded. "Yeah. I do tend to take over sometimes. You should have a say, I think, in some of it."
He looped his arm around her shoulders. "Some of it, perhaps. But you're the Warden Commander and when we're on the road, I happily defer to you. Just think of me as a glorified body-guard… who has veto-power over the crazier things you might want to do." She laughed at him and then rose to her feet. She hauled him up by his hands and tugged him in the direction of the door. "What? What?" he laughed.
"I'm insanely hungry again so your job, o' Body Guard, is to feed your pregnant wife," she laughingly told him. "I could go for some of that Redcliffe White..!"
To Be Continued
- 11
- 12
- 13
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Tainted Dreams