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Samahlen	By : BronxWench Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 1569 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins, and I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Nightmare

Wraith woke suddenly, sitting upright and reaching for Alistair. The taint sang in his blood, every nerve stretched like the fine wire of a garrotte. Alistair sat up alongside him, his sleepy expression hardening as he too felt the presence of darkspawn close by. The two men reached for their armor, dressing with the swiftness of long practice, weapons naked in their hands as they eased their way out of the tent.
Wraith looked around, the pull stronger. Sten was sitting watch at the fire, and Wraith ghosted up beside him while Alistair woke the others. An eerie wail shattered the quiet of the night, several of the darkspawn they called shrieks materializing, and Wraith spat and moved in on his first target, eyes narrowed. Wraith could smell the tang of Wynne's lightning bolts, and feel the chill of Morrigan's ice spells. The shrieks wailed, and died hard, and underneath it all was the sound of his own heart pounding.
On the edge of the camp, there was a single shriek, just watching. There was something almost familiar about the way it stood, and Wraith moved closer, cautious, waving the others back.
"Samahlen?" The shriek's voice was rusty, a thing long unused, but it was a voice Wraith had known as well as his own.
"Tamlen?" Wraith felt his heart twist in his chest.
"Stay back!" Tamlen turned his face away, pain echoing in his voice. "Don't call me that. Wanted to warn you."
"I went back. I looked for you, lethallin." Wraith's voice broke on the last word. "Tamlen..."
"Archdemon almost ready," Tamlen rasped. "Hurry."
Wraith reached out, his dar'misu hanging loosely in his grip. "Let us help you."
Tamlen moved closer, turning his face up to look at Wraith. "Kill me. End this."
"Don't ask this of me," Wraith said, unable to look away from the ghastly mask that looked at him with Tamlen's eyes.
"No help, just death," Tamlen insisted, close enough for Wraith to smell the carrion taint of his breath. "Do you hear it? Samahlen, the song..."
Alistair was behind Wraith, his presence a comforting warmth.
"Tamlen, don't ask this," Wraith whispered, his throat burning.
"Not a choice, lethallin." Tamlen raised his taloned hand, and screamed as he slashed at Wraith, his attack swift and savage. Wraith barely got his dar'misaan up in time to parry, his dar'misu driving up towards Tamlen's ribs purely by reflex. The blow spun Tamlen around, and Alistair's sword flashed, and Tamlen fell.
Wraith dropped to his knees beside Tamlen, his weapons falling to the ground as he cradled Tamlen's face in his hands.
"Thank you," Tamlen managed, as Wraith stroked his face and watched him die.
"Come to bed." Alistair laid a hand on Wraith's shoulder. "You've stared a big enough hole in the fire already."
Wraith stood slowly, turning into Alistair's arms for a moment and letting his lover hold him tightly. He untangled himself with an apologetic smile, and headed into his tent, Alistair close behind.
"I'm not going to be very good company." Wraith looked up at Alistair, willing his lover to understand. What he felt for Alistair, this thing he was ready to call love, had not diminished at all, but Tamlen's death brought pain and a renewed sense of failure.
"Just let me hold you. You shouldn't be alone," Alistair replied, already removing his armor. He helped Wraith divest himself of his leather armor, and wrapped his arms around the elf as they settled down in the bedroll.
"If I had been stronger, or faster, I could have found him, and Duncan could have brought us both to Ostagar." Wraith sighed. "But then I wouldn't have this, would I?"
Alistair tipped Wraith's face up. "This?" he asked, gentle humor in his voice. "I'm reduced to being this?"
All at once, Wraith felt an overwhelming need to feel Alistair within him, to feel the burn of being stretched and filled and alive. His lips sought Alistair's lips, his hips bucking as he ground himself against Alistair's hard thigh, the elf's cock already half hard. Wraith's hand slid down across firm muscle until he found Alistair's cock, stroking it quickly until he felt the first drops of precum under his thumb. He smeared the slippery fluid across the head of Alistair's cock and straddled his lover, his eyes burning as Wraith pressed Alistair's cock past his twitching hole, hissing at the sudden intrusion.
Ignoring the pain, Wraith slid down, not stopping until Alistair's balls were snug against his ass. He looked down at his lover as he gave himself a moment to adjust, the green-gold of Alistair's eyes dark and unreadable. Wraith took a shuddering breath, and began to move, slamming himself down over and over, impaling himself furiously, fisting his own cock and pumping as he rode Alistair. His eyes were blurry, and he could not see Alistair's expression, but he felt his lover grip his hips in an effort to slow him down. It was futile; his balls clenched, and he spilled on Alistair's chest. Alistair cried out, his voice ragged, and Wraith felt the heat as Alistair filled his ass.
Wraith sank forward, surprised to find himself sobbing. He dashed the back of his hand across his eyes and looked at Alistair, the hurt in his lover's eyes taking him by surprise. Alistair shifted, withdrawing his cock from Wraith and reaching for his breeches.
"Alistair, emma lath," Wraith whispered, confused.
"What does that even mean? Never mind," Alistair said bitterly. "I was better off being this, instead of being used like a convenient whore." He turned his back, hurt and angry, flinching as Wraith tried to hold him. "Don't! Just... don't."
Wraith lay there until Alistair's harsh breathing had evened out in sleep, and then he whispered, "It means my love." He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come and the nightmare to begin.

Prompt word: Nightmare
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