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In good times and in bad	By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 14749 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters of the game do not belong to me. This is a no profit fanfiction

Chapter List
- 31
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- 33
In this chapter Alistair mentions his birthday to be in Haring (December). It is only confirmed that he was born 9:10 Dragon, but since Maric met his mother Fiona also in 9:10 Dragon and the novel The Calling makes it obvious that they met in winter, Alistair must have been born sometime Harvestmere (October), Firstfall (November) or Haring (December) 9:10 Dragon.
You can find a calendar of Thedas here: http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Calendar
Maybe it's the thin air up here in the mountains. Maybe it's the cold. Maybe it's we're all still feeling awkward after Rori's confrontation with Sten. I don't know. But Haven is strange from the beginning. Real strange. And I already think so before we find the table with the human blood. Something is rotten here.
On leaving the house, the villagers attack us. Before there have been none on the streets. All we've seen was faces behind the windows, faces that would disappear when they saw us looking their direction. Rori holds up her hands in defense when the first peasants come storming at her. They are armed with clubs or with their bare hands. Sure, they outnumber us, but fighting them will turn into a massacre. I get why she's hesitant - but I can't wait for her being run through with a dungfork, so it is me to start the actual battle, cutting down the sturdy villager wielding said dungfork. She still tries to talk with them while defending herself. But at some point we have to give up. They won't listen. They are fierce and fanatic in their attacks, the men, the women, old and young. Even the kids old enough to fight. Rori dodges the attacks of a boy - he can't be older than twelve years - until she is cornered and it's either her or him. She tries to knock him out instead of killing him but his attacks with his chopper are so frenzied, she cannot get the right aim. When there's another villager lunging himself at her, she has no choice anymore.
I defend myself against a granny and her son. It feels awful. It feels wrong, despite the blood we found on the altar. Human blood. It is Morrigan to save me. Her spell turns the granny into a human torch and sends her running, screaming so terribly that it chills me to the bone. They other villagers don't even try to help her but keep attacking until all of them lie dead.
Rori is visibly shaken. "Fuck," she breathes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Agreed.
I stare down at the young girl that clawed with her bare hands at me. She was hardly older than fourteen. Now she is dead. This was one part of why I never liked to become a templar. The part where you bring young mages to the circle. Frightened, terrified children that get shoved around and too often maltreated simply for what they are. Some templars just overreact. Or their hatred is too strong that they cannot see the difference between a frightened child and an evil bloodmage. They kept saying I am too soft, that I don't see the danger that lies within these children. I mean, I do get they have to be educated. Look at Connor! I never objected to taking them to the tower. But... one doesn't have to treat them like criminals, right? You don't have that kind of trouble when fighting darkspawn. It makes life much easier.
"Oh, pull yourselves together, all of you whining softies," Morrigan snorts when she has had enough of Leliana bawling and Wynne comforting her. And of Rori looking like she's going to vomit at the sight of what is left of the villager Shale sat upon. And of me, shaken and having turned a whiter shade of pale. "They were foolish enough to attack us. They got what they deserved."
"What now?" I ask Rori. She shudders, then the shocked expression is replaced by one of grim determination. I can tell she's had about enough for today. But we both know it's not yet over.
"We find the ashes, heal the Arl and kill that fucking archdemon."
"Language!" Wynne calls from behind.
"And fucking kill that bloody fucking archdemon!" Rori shouts at the top of her voice.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Wynne sighs.
We first find a dead knight from Redcliffe. Then we find Brother Genitivi. Last but not least we do find out what's wrong with the villagers. This is not just a cozy village with a very low tolerance treshold for strangers, but a cult of weirdos who believe Andraste came back as a high dragon.
They hatch dragon eggs and stuff. They feed the dragons.
As a child I so wanted to have a dragon as a pet. I pestered Arl Eamon for three years in a row to give me a dragon for birthday. My birthday is only in Haring but I already began nagging him in Solace. But all I ever got was a plush dragon. I was terribly disappointed back then.
We slay more villagers - or cultists. And dragon babies. I still think they are cute, somehow. Until I meet their teenage brothers and sisters. Now I think Arl Eamon may have had a point when he ignored my wish to have my own dragon.
"Maker's Breath, what do they want with all these dragons?" Rori exclaims when we find even more eggs. "I mean, some time they all will be grown up. Can such a small village have enough cattle to feed them... or..."
"Or do they just send them out to find their own fodder," I complete her sentence. "This is bad. Real bad."
And it gets worse. It always does. We meet Kolgrim, the high priest of this dragon cult.
"The prophet Andraste has overcome death itself and has returned to Her faithful in a form more radiant than you can imagine!" he thunders when Rori isn't convinced of his great deed. "Not even the Tevinter Imperium could hope to slay Her now. What hope do you have?"
Rori and I exchange a look. She taps her forehead with her index finger. Yep, that Kolgrim guy is a complete nutcase.
"You know, I think we'll give it a try," Rori replies sweetly. "This wouldn't be the first dragon we slay... although the last one was the shapeshifted Witch of the Wilds. So she wasn't a real dragon, I guess. But she looked like one. And breathed fire. And she was huge. So... nope, we're not going to do some wicked blood magic shit with the ashes of Andraste."
"Language!" Wynne sighs at the same time as she knocks one of the cultists over the head with her staff.
We kill the cultists - and then on emerging from the caves, find us facing a high dragon. It's both terrifying and glorious in it's mighty beauty. Maker, I do hope it already had breakfast.
"We're not planning on... actually fighting it are we? Couldn't we just... sneak around it?" Zevran shifts his weight uneasily.
"Oh, I'm not afraid," Wynne chuckles. "It wouldn't eat me anyhow. Tough and stringy. You, on the other hand... ought to be worried."
"Nah, too much metal." I knock my knuckles against my breastplate. "It will have tummy ache for weeks...But seriously...A High Dragon is not a joke. We'd best be careful... real careful."
Rori watches the mighty beast for a while. "We kill it. Prepare for battle."
"Err... what?"
"The archdemon is a dragon. This is good practice, right?"
I grab her by her shoulders and turn her around to face me. "Rori, if this is about Sten, you don't have to prove anything to him."
"We have destroyed the cult. Where will it find fodder now?"
"Ahhh... alright."
We almost become dragon fodder ourselves - Andraste II likes her meat medium - and I swear, it's mere luck we survive. Mental note to myself: Serious talk with Rori about unnecessary risks.
"These ashes, they have incredible healing power, right?" Zevran groans next to me. "Can we get some for ourselves?" He closes his eyes and is so silent that I am afraid he has died on me. But then his eyes snap open again and he goes: "Dragons have treasures, right? Would you mind if I didn't come with you to search for the remains of dear Andraste?" With great effort, he sits up and starts looking around for caves high above us. "Ahhh," he grins when he spots a hole in the mountain side. "Do we have a rope? Do you need it? No? Can I have it?"
I don't really feel well. Getting breathed at by a fire-spitting dragon when wearing a suit of plate armour is like getting roasted in your own personal oven. When Rori helps me shed the armour I look like a lobster. Considering that these poor animals are dropped into boiling water alive, I have a lot of sympathy for them. I will never ever again be able to eat lobster without thinking of the high dragon in the Frostback Mountains.
Wynne tries to mend us all back together and more or less she succeeds. My skin will peel anyway and it's quite uncomfrotable to wear an armour. It feels like I got myself sunburnt after the healing - which is much better than before. It still hurts. But at least I get Rori rubbing me with a cooling salve from head to toe. And she really doesn't miss a single inch of my body. She runs her hands down my body, visibly enjoying the touch. Her caress is so gentle, it doesn't hurt at all. I smile at the dreamy look on her face and the warmth in her eyes when she looks at me. She starts with my face, slides her hands down my neck and over my shoulders. The mountain brezze is chilly but eases the heat of my burnt skin. The ointment also numbs the stinging. And the touch of Rori's hands is like a balm of its own. She roams my pecs and abs, takes care of my back and arms. She rubs my legs, even my feet, back up to my buttocks and then... I gasp in surprise. My body reacts instantly to her touch. I want to protest first... but... what can I say? It feels so damn good. And I have earnt myself a little reward, right?
"Maybe I should get myself roasted by a dragon more often," I groan when she slides her hands up and down my length.
"You like that you only got to say so," Rori laughs, blushing at her own boldness. I can't say anything at all at the moment. I am all naked and standing in the middle of some ancient temple ruins on the top of a mountain and not too far away from a dead dragon and our recovering companions while a beautiful ginger jerks me off. Not to mention the ashes of Andraste are somewhere close. If lightning doesn't strike me now it never will.
This has to be a dream. Someone please pinch me.
On a second thought my dreams usually are full of darkspawn. So maybe it is real after all.
Oh, Maker's Breath!
"Feeling better?" Rori grins up at me, She's so proud of herself it makes me laugh.
"Much better." I consider this for a moment. "Although now I so want to make love to you...." Rori is already pulling the laces of her blouse open. Moments later we're kissing feverishly, while I squeeze and caress her breasts. She tries to kick her boots off to get out of her pants, then obviously decides this takes too much time. Cursing, she turns around, presenting her backside to me as she bends over a rock.
I stare down at her firm little buttocks and that sweet pink slit between her legs. She can't really... she doesn't want me...? Andraste's flaming sword! We're no dogs or something like that... Oh, it's so tempting... "Alistair!" Rori gasps, wiggling her beautiful little ass. She looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes dark with desire.
Hestitantly I rub my fingers at her folds. Oh, she's so wet. She whimpers softly at my touch and squirms. "Hurry," she breathes. Blast it! Who cares about what the Chantry says? I place my hands at her hips and carefully push into her. She bucks against me and I groan. Oh boy!
And then we mate like dogs would do. It's so intense I'm glad she gave me a release before or I wouldn't last long. This is not like the tender lovenaking we experienced before. It's rougher, faster, more forceful. I'm afraid I could hurt her. I'm so deep inside her, I thrust so hard into her. It has to be painful! But every time I try to go easy on her, she snarls and bucks against me. In the end I lose myself in the rhythm.that matches the thunder of our heartbeats.
"Alistair? Rori?" We hear Wynne call. "How long can it possibly take to rub some ointment on some burnt skin? What are you doing over there? What in the name in of the Maker are they doing?"
"You sent two love-crazed young adults off to rub something oily on naked skin - what do you think they are doing?" Zevran laughs.
"But they are hurt! They... oh, in the name of the Maker! Rori! Alistair! If you tear any wounds open again or make anything worse, don't you come running to me!"
Awkward. I'd feel awfully embarrassed if the tension inside of me wasn't at a critical point that very moment. All I can do is grunt and pound into Rori. She clings to the rock for support, her mewing moans and whimpers turn into a cry of pleasure when her body is shaken by a powerful orgasm. I follow her lead, pouring my seed into her.
"Someone really should explain to them about mountains and echoes," Wynne comments in the silence that follows.
Ahhh... haha... echoes. Blast!
I rest my cheek at Rori's back, trying to steady my ragged breathing. She is equally spent. I pull out of her to turn her around and wrap her in my arms. She's all flushed and her eyes shine brightly. "I love you," she whispers.
"I love you, too." I kiss her gently. "Guess we should get dressed and find the ashes before Sten challenges you again for not battling the archdemon."
"My mother always said love is a battlefield."
"If what we just did is the kind of battles fought there I will never ask for a peace treaty. But I doubt Sten will find this convincing," I laugh. I help her lace her blouse and she helps me with my armour. "Prepared for more awkward moments and knowing smirks from our dear companions?"
"Never, but I guess I will survive anyway."
When we feel ready to enter the temple where Andraste's ashes are said to be, Zevran already is half up the mountain side, clinging to it like a four-legged spider. Sten can't move. Or Wynne won't let him. Morrigan is left back to take care of him while Shale stands guard.
The rest of us prepares to leave, meaning Wynne, Leliana, Rori and I. Leliana can hardly walk but she says if we leave her back here she will hate us forever.
"So are you going to continue staring at me as if I am covered in eels?" I hear Morrigan say when she kneels down next to Sten, taking care of his bandages.
"Eels would be something."
And there I thought Sten had no sense of humour. I almost choke on the water I've been drinking.
Morrigan giggles. "Prudery! How charming. I expected paranoia. This is much better. I prefer to be stared at lustfully, if at all."
"And there she says I have a strange taste in men," Rori whispers to me, kissing my cheek.
"Keep trying, then." Sten stares sternly at something far away. He's so not interested. I can't blame him. Morrigan... she is beautiful, I guess. But there's something about her that makes me recoil. She could be the most beautiful woman in all Thedas and I still wouldn't feel attracted by her.
"Oh? Then shall I demonstrate an act or two? And you may tell me hot or cold?" She gets up in one graceful move and stretches in a way that reveals far more than anybody of us ever wanted to see. Then getting back down on her knees, she leans so close to Sten she almost presses her breasts at his face.
"I'll save time. Cold." Sten's even colder. He's icy.
"You are a tease," Morrigan chuckles.
"I almost feel sorry for him," I say when Rori leads us to the entrance of the temple.
"I don't. He can handle himself. And after his stupid challenge earlier I am still annoyed with him. And it's quite entertaining. For us. Not for him."
"Vengeful little brat," I chuckle.
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In good times and in bad