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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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Remembrances

Wraith stood outside the warehouse, in a forgotten corner of a back street. The earth beneath his feet was parched, the sky a searing blue overhead. Riordan had counseled him to bring a companion or two, but Wraith had chosen to come alone.
Inside, the warehouse seemed ordinary enough. The smell of dust and ancient spices greeted him, cobwebs gracing many of the crates and barrels that lined the walls. A few chests were still locked, and more from curiosity than anything else, Wraith pulled out his picks and teased the locks open. There was little of interest, and Wraith left the items he found.
Riordan had told Wraith that the shelves concealed an entrance accessible only to Grey Wardens, their hidden vault within Denerim. Riordan believed that Loghain might not have found the vault, although he did not know what remained within. Wraith thought it was worth looking and so he slid the shelves aside and entered the vault.
The Wardens had been thorough in stripping the place before Ostagar, but a few items remained. One in particular caught Wraith's eye, and he took it, wrapping it in a large piece of leather. For a brief moment, Wraith let himself remember a busy camp, a bright king in his golden armor, a young Warden with green-gold eyes that sparkled with mischief, and the tall Warden with the deep voice who had offered him a chance to live. Wraith's throat tightened as he offered a prayer to the Creators, asking Falon'Din to look kindly upon them.
Alistair had not removed his armor, and Wraith leaned against the door frame of their room at Eamon's estate, watching his lover stare into the fire. Alistair was uncharacteristically still, so still that he might have been mistaken for a display of ancestral armor were it not for the play of firelight upon his dark blond hair.
"Where were you?" Alistair did not look up from the fire.
"An errand." Wraith remained where he was.
"In future, tell me where you're going." Alistair's voice was flat.
"As you wish." Wraith straightened and tossed the leather wrapped bundle onto the bed. "I brought you something. Not a gift, really. More of a remembrance."
Alistair looked at the bundle, and walked over to the bed to tug at the leather. It fell open to reveal a shield, emblazoned with the white griffon, the symbol of the Wardens, and Alistair's eyes widened in recognition.
"Where did you get this?" Alistair looked at Wraith, his eyes narrowed.
Wraith shrugged. "Riordan told me the location of the Wardens' vault here in Denerim. Not much was left, but I thought you might want that."
"I wondered what Duncan had done with it. Thank you. This means a great deal to me, to have something of his." Alistair's expression softened, but Wraith did not smile or move closer as he usually did. "What is it?"
Wraith chuckled without humor. "I don't even know what to call you anymore. My King? Warden? Alistair?"
"You could always try emma lath."
The elvish sounded strange coming from Alistair, and the bitter half smile that Wraith wore wavered and fled. It was Alistair who moved closer to his lover, cupping Wraith's cheek in one hand. Wraith's hand flew up to cover Alistair's hand, his eyes fluttering closed, but not before Alistair saw the pain in them.
"Are you still that?" Wraith whispered, turning into the caress. "We took so much away from you, to make you king."
"But not that, never that," Alistair said, his voice almost as quiet as Wraith's whisper. "Did you think my feelings for you were that shallow?"
"I thought we took too much, that I pushed you too hard into this role. You asked me once not to let this happen." Wraith opened his eyes, not ready to look at Alistair yet. "I was afraid I gave that up."
"The irony of a Dalish elf putting Ferelden first didn't escape me," Alistair said dryly. "But I've never stopped loving you, Wraith."
"Emma lath," Wraith said, and the words felt right this time. Alistair's fingers were busy at the buckles of his armor, and Wraith was surprised when Alistair brushed Wraith's fingers away.
"Let me," Alistair murmured.
Wraith let Alistair strip away his armor, the light of the fire painting the elf ruddy as he stood naked, watching his lover, his King, set to work on his own armor. Alistair's eyes never left Wraith, the heat in those green-gold eyes searing. Wraith watched Alistair with equal hunger, the man's paler skin kissed golden in the firelight, and a soft moan escaped Wraith's lips.
"Let me," Alistair repeated, closing on Wraith, his skin radiating heat.
Alistair backed Wraith onto the bed, hooking Wraith's ankles over his shoulders, his hastily oiled cock demanding entry as Duncan's shield dug into Wraith's ribs. Time slowed to a crawl as Alistair breached Wraith, his cock pressing past the tight pucker until he was fully seated in Wraith's ass. The man stayed like that for an endless moment, just watching Wraith as the elf arched his back to grind himself further down on Alistair's cock.
When Alistair finally began to move, the angle made his cock drag across Wraith's prostate, and Wraith bit back his cry of pleasure as his cock jumped, precum beading on his quivering belly. Wraith expected to be taken hard, but Alistair surprised him, his thrusts slow and tantalizing, even the smallest movement making Wraith gasp. Alistair feathered his fingers along the length of Wraith's cock, and watched his lover come undone as Wraith gasped again and came, white ropes striping his tanned skin. As Wraith's back arched again, Alistair came, filling Wraith with heat, a throaty moan escaping him.
Alistair let Wraith's legs slide down off his shoulders, easing himself free and lying beside Wraith. He pulled Wraith close, shoving Duncan's shield aside. Wraith let himself relax into the embrace, even the Blight forgotten for one sweet night.

Prompt word: Earth
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