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What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted	By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4863 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of the Dragon Age characters. This is a non-profit fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
As I was already moving on I kept going—and moved Rori from the lakeside to a nearby pavilion when my sweet innocent kiss met Rori’s tempestuous passion, sweeping both of us away in a whirlwind of rambunctious desire. Sweet Lady Andraste! Enraptured by her dulcet taste, I explored the hot moist cavern of Rori’s mouth, kissed her deeply, longlingly, and the world around me faded, all worries ceased to exist for this one blissful moment, I floated in our own little rainbow bubble... and then, all of a sudden, it burst and I was thrown back into reality. It all started with a tingling at the back of my head, the unsettling feeling of someone watching me, of a glare boring into me ceaselessly. And then I looked up and found Suri’s statue looming over us, her cold, lifeless eyes regarding me with silent accussation. Blast it! A pang of guilt stabbed me for having smooched another woman right there at her grave... What? Yes, I do know a statue is no more than a pretty piece of stone. It’s just... it was inappropriate... and disrespectful, okay? And a little... morbid.
“Hey,” Rori said softly, tiptoeing to nuzzle the tip of my nose. “What’s wrong?” She nibbled at my lower lip with teasing tenderness, coaxing me to open my mouth for her.
“Um...” I laughed uneasily, “You, me, pretty lake, a myriad of midges—and my former lover’s grave. Romantic, huh?”
Rori swatted at the midges swarming around her head. “And peeping Slim Couldry sitting over there in the bushes.” she added nonchalantly.
“WHAT!?!” I squeaked, spinning round to scan the shrubbery for the CIA. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see Mrs. Couldry and her ladle sitting on a tree, dangling her legs and commanding an army of sneaky squirrels and nosy birds.
“Nah,” Rori laughed, punching my chest playfully. “He left when you started kissing me.”
“Oh, now that’s something else entirely!” I exclaimed sullenly. “How can you be sure he’s not somewhere out there...”
“Hush.” Rori put her finger to my lips, she ran it down my chin, across my throat, put her palms flat on my chest and leaned in to brush her lips against the hollow of my throat, flicking her tongue against my adam’s apple...
Wow! WOW! What exactly had I been worrying about? Privacy? Privacy was overrated anyway...
I picked her up before I completely lost the ability to think straight and we got carried away by our increasing excitement.
We lost most of our clothing on the way and discarded the bits we still wore when reaching our destination. Rori’s hands were all over my body, and mine explored hers as we tumbled into the pavilion. A relic from the Orlesian usurpation, it sat on a cliff with a breathtaking view of the ocean, the forest, and the city in the distance. To Rori and me this beauty was wasted; we only had eyes for each other.
Maker’s Breath, but she was beautiful! Her cheeks flushed, her rosebud lips slightly parted, she gasped my name when I kissed her neck, pressing my lips against her heated skin. Her eyes were blazing with feral intensity, yet there was fear lurking in the depths of her blue orbs—the ghosts of her past were not yet willing to set her free. They hadn’t reckoned with Rori, though. Stubborn as a Storm Coast ram, she ignored my gentle approach to make her feel at ease and lunged herself at me. Obviously she had decided offense was her best defense. She had no intention of going slowly and allowing her treacherous mind to taint and twist her pleasure into yet another nightmare. We fell onto one of the luxurious Orlesian divans—now covered with Fereldan-style furs.
I trailed open-mouthed kisses across her body, worshipped the beauty of her breasts, the softness of her flesh, and the stark contrast of her nipples hardening against the velvet heat of my tongue. My caress elicited the most adorable mewing noises from her. She arched her back, leaning into my touch as my hands and lips traveled past her ribs to the flat of her belly. Her breathing was ragged as nervousness and fear were getting the edge on her despite her brave struggle, smoldering the glow of her arousal. Then I dipped my tongue into her navel and Rori burst into laughter.
“Ticklish?” I grinned.
“Noooo!” she hiccupped, tears of laughter like glittering gems welling from her eyes. Giggles bubbled from her mouth and whatever darkness had threatened to invade her, she laughed it away. She giggled when I twirled my tongue around her navel. And when I trailed little pecks down her belly. And when I lifted her legs onto my shoulders and ran my tongue across the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Then all of a sudden her giggling stopped. She gasped in surprise, her body tensed and the sweetest moan escaped her lips. “Wait!” She propped herself up on her elbows to watch me, her brow furrowed in utter confusion. “What are you doing... down there?” She was clearly talking too much. Oh well, you know what they say: Talk is cheap. “Just relax and enjoy,” I grinned and then I shut her up. Rather effectively, if I do say so myself. “Merciful Andraste! Ohhhh... Alistair!” Famous last words. Afterwards Rori was quite speechless, though not silent. Nope, not at all. Maker’s Breath, she sang to me a tune of blissful pleasure, each single sound coaxed out of her by the ministration of my rough tongue lapping at her slick folds.
Her fingers entangled with my hair, she pressed herself against my face. Her body stiffened, her back arched, she whimpered softly as she balanced on the very edge of her release, a moment of excruciating tension before she soared into her climax. “Maker! Alistair! Ohhh... Maker’s Breath!” she gasped as her orgasm washed over her like tidal waves. She had never been more ravishing with her eyes glimmering in a hazy hue of midnight blue and her cheeks flushed pink. Her smile was bewitching, radiating a brilliant soulfulness.
Maker’s Breath! I wanted her so much my whole being was blazing with desire. Rori’s lips against mine, the softness of her body pressed against my firm frame, her fingertips whispering across my skin, her innocent shyness as she circled her small hands around my manhood... Andraste’s flaming sword! She was driving me crazy! My head rolled from side to side, my eyes half closed as I watched her explore my anatomy. With undisguised awe she ran her fingers across the firmness of my muscles. She tasted my skin with her tongue, teased my flesh with gentle bites. Her boldness increased with the sound of my moans. My hoarsely whispered endearments, my outcries of pleasure emboldened her to discover and explore her own and my sexuality. It was the sweetest torture.
When she teasingly blew her cool breath against the sensitive tip of my manhood I bolted, poking her in the eye... Yep, clumsy me in action. It was so silly. Rori sat there, holding her eye, laughing while tears streamed down the side of her face. I held her, apologized like a thousand times and embarrassment was tearing me apart until her giggling infected me too and we both laughed so hard we fell off the divan together. I landed on some more fluffy furs, Rori landed on top of me.
“Maker! Puck, I’m so sorry!” I repeated for the umpteenth time. “I’m so terribly sor—” I didn’t get to say any more because Rori rather effectively silenced me with a kiss. I moaned into her mouth, our tongues entwined in a fierce dance of lust and passion. Wrapping my arms around her I turned us around, coming to lie on top of her, my hard length rubbing against the moist heat of her center. Rori’s eyes snapped open. She gasped, breaking the kiss as her body tensed.
“Rori,” I whispered, my voice feral and husky. “Maker preserve me! I want you. I need you.” I was so dizzy with desire I was trembling with unreleased tension. “I... I don’t mean to rush you... Maker’s Breath!” I pressed my face at the crook of her neck, inhaling the fresh scent of verbena. For what seemed an eternity to me, Rori was very still. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. She was so full of apprehension; her body language spoke volumes about the torture she had endured.
Groaning in frustration I slowly lifted my weight off her. She wasn’t yet ready and I was not about to push her... when all of a sudden she wrapped her legs around my waist and took my face in her hands, forcing me to meet her eyes. Her expression of utmost defiance could hardly hide how scared she was, her eyes were wide and round—the left one slightly puffed and reddish where I had poked her... How embarrassing! Maker! Why did such things always happen to me? I winced and grinned sheepishly, leaning in to gently kiss her eyelid, fluttering against my lips like a delicate butterfly.
When she opened her eyes again, the mists of fear had dissolved and made room for stubborn determination. She wouldn’t succumb to dread. Whatever demons haunted her, she struggled to keep them at bay. This was tough for her. She was caught up in the turmoil of her own emotions, stubbornly trying to regain control. She had come so far but this was a critical moment for her. She inhaled deeply, steeled herself, locked eyes with me and went: “Ready when you are.” Then she squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her fists at her sides, pressed her lips to a thin line and braced herself for the inevitable.
“This is meant to be fun, you know. You sound as if I was about to pull your teeth. One by one. With giant pliers.” I laughed at her grim determination. “Relax.” I nuzzled her nose.
“I am relaxed,” she pressed through gritted teeth. She was as tense as a strung bow. Smiling I trailed little pecks across her jaw towards her ear.
“Very relaxed. I envy your calm. Any calmer and you’d be tranquil,” I teased her, nibbling her earlobe.
“Now you’re making fun of me!” Rori pouted, punching my shoulder with her small fist.
“Make fun of you, dear lady? Perish the thought!” I chuckled, catching her hand to kiss her knuckles, then turning it around I pressed my lips to the inside of her wrist.
“Alistair?” Rori breathed, her voice trembling.
“Hm?” I sucked at her pulse, the soft skin of her wrist delicately smooth against my lips. The timidness of her tone made me pause.
“I... I want you, too... but... whenever I close my eyes the memories... they flood my mind and...” Swallowing hard, Rori turned her head away. Tears welled up in her eyes. I tenderly placed my hand under her chin and gently forced her to meet my eyes.
“Here’s looking at you, Puck,” I whispered. I tucked a red curl behind her ear, ran the back of my hand down the side of her face, pinched her nose teasingly, and when she finally smiled at me, that brilliant smile of hers, I kissed her deeply, and tenderly coaxed her to relax—for real this time. “Are you ready?” I murmured softly into her ear as I positioned myself between her legs. I needed her to understand she was the one in charge. I would never have done anything she didn't want me to do.
“Ready, steady, go!” Rori giggled nervously. Her eyes never left mine. She sought solace in me. I was her bastion of calm, her tower of strength. She clung to me when I slowly pushed into her, careful not to hurt her. A low whimper escaped her throat, she gasped at the sensation of my manhood filling her, straining her inner walls. Maker’s Breath! She was so damn tight around me. Engulfed in her velvet heat, my manhood twitched and throbbed, my whole being was tingling with anticipation. Blast! The pressure in my loins was excruciating. Groaning I closed my eyes, burying my face in her hair. Rori tugged at my earlobe immediately. When I looked at her she sharply pointed two fingers at her squinted eyes, an apt imitation of Mrs. Couldry.
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” I laughed, kissing the tip of her nose. I set on a tantalizingly slow rhythm—for Rori to get accustomed to this new sensation. She lay stock-still. By the look on her face she was wavering between “Urgh!” and “My oh my!,” clearly wondering how she got roped into all this and how to get disentangled. Cute. Really. Alright, it hurt my manly feelings. All one of them. Blast it! I wouldn’t draw in my horn... um... horns now! I had to make this perfect for her... if I fucked up now—Get it? Fucked up? Haha... okay, not funny...—she would be lost forever... Good luck, Alistair! Whenever had anything been perfect with you involved?
Blast it all! It was now or never!
My lips captured hers for a deep, long-lasting and quite mind-numbing kiss. I slipped one arm around her waist, half lifting her off the ground, coaxing her to buck her hips to meet my thrusts. “Oh!” Rori gasped, moaning loudly into my mouth as she skipped “My oh my!” and went straight for “Andraste’s flaming sword!” Then she let go, slipped off the bonds of her fearsome nightmares and embraced the beauty of us together. Our worries and sorrow, our grief and sadness, it was all washed away when we became one, moving in the same accelerant rhythm, our voices combined in a lustful duet of passion. The world around us stopped existing, it was only Rori and Alistair in the crazy hazy hue of our lovemaking.
It was one of the most intense moments of my life—accentuated by the fact that I now knew what it was like to walk in darkness. Everything had been dyed in shades of grey, whatever I tasted it had been stale, whatever I heard had been dissonant. I had felt disembodied, lost and forlorn, surrounded by the musty smell of a cold and lonely grave, but now, now there was an explosion of light and color. I tasted the sweetness of Rori’s kiss, I listened to the music of her moans, a symphony of pleasure. I inhaled the freshness of verbena and a hint of cool lemon mingled with Rori’s scent, a perfume so beguiling it made me dizzy. Engulfed in the power of our bond, my whole body was vibrating with liveliness.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, we soared to the sky together in a mind-shattering climax, a whirlwind of blissful beatific delight...
I collapsed on top of Rori, shivers of pleasure running through her in the aftermath of her orgasm. A very wide, very content grin was plastered across her face. She looked like the cat that got the cream—a whole pool of sweet, velvety cream—and she purred. It was the cutest sound ever. She rubbed her cheek against mine, snuggled to me and kept on purring. Smiling, I kissed the tip of her nose. My fluttering heart suddenly seemed too big for my chest, warmth spread through me like a flood of happiness.
“That was... wow,” Rori breathed once she recovered her voice. “WOW!”
“WOW!” I confirmed, grinning at her brimming over with joy.
The sea breeze cooled my heated skin when I wrapped Rori in my arms, holding her close, holding her tight. I didn’t know where we would go from there—and I didn’t care. All that mattered was the here and now. I was drifting on a cloud of felicity. The brushes with death, the chaos and tragedy—they were quite an eye-opener. I had to embrace what happiness I got or I would be doomed. Suri had always lived that way. She had never fretted about her fate but made the very best of it. She had shown me how it worked, had taught me to live in the moment instead of wallowing in the past and dreading the future. After her death I had given up myself; it took this beautiful ginger maiden to bring me back to life...
Or as Oghren would have said: “You know what would do you some good? Go out, find a girl. Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s no pants involved.”
The dwarf had always been a sucker for romance.
The memory of Suri added a bittersweet tinge. She would always be there of me. She had a hand in sculpting the man I was now, had given me confidence, had shown me love. She had turned my whole life upside down and made it better. And she would live on in my heart until it stopped beating. I waited for the pang of guilt that usually came with remembering Suri, but it never came. There was a dull ache, a vague feeling of emptiness and loss, but it was cast in shadows now that Rori’s radiance shone on me.
Rori still hadn’t fully recovered from the realization that sex could actually be beautiful. She shrugged out of my embrace and on her rather wobbly legs bounced around naked singing “Glory, glory, hallelujah!” at the top of her voice. She was adorable. And of course it was balm for my hurt manly feelings. I could have listened to her endlessly. But when she waved and shouted at a passing by ship, “I had sex and it was awesome!” I decided it was better to detour her exuberant energy and return straight to the steamy bits...
Oh glory, glory, hallelujah!
- 14
- 15
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What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted