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In good times and in bad	By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 14752 -:- 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
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On leaving the temple, we find Zevran sitting on a heap of golden coins and gems and jewlery. A crown too big for him sits lopsidedly on his head. I am surprised he doesn't topple over with all the golden chains wrapped around his neck. He hardly can move his fingers anymore because of all the rings stuck on them. Beside him Morrigan gets excited about a specially shiny necklace with glittering rubies. Her head is crowned by a matching golden diadem. Shale cradles an incredibly huge sapphire as if it was a baby. The only ones absolutely unaffected by the riches are Sten and Barkley.
"How will this help to slay the archdemon?" is the first question Sten asks when he spots Rori. "Did you find what we had to climb this mountain for?" is the second.
"Well, you know what mercenaries are, right? They usually want to get paid for their work. So having a coin or two is not that bad a thing. And yes, we got the ashes and can head back to Redcliffe."
Sten snorts. "Congratulations. You've found your pot of holy dirt."
"Where's the urn? Didn't you bring it?" Zevran comes staggering towards us for Rori to show him the handkerchief. "I only see snot," the elf comments.
"Ah... haha... wrong one." Grinning sheepishly, she shows him the second handkerchief. I consider making her hand it to Leliana or Wynne to keep it save. Rori is likely to accidentally wipe her nose on Andraste.
"Dirt?" Zevran frowns.
"Well, that's what ashes are."
"And that's all you got? There has to be more. You do realize it's worth a fortune, don't you?"
"Merciful Andraste, Zevran! How many fortunes do you need? You got a dragon's treasure," Rori exclaims. "And how do you intend to transport all this?"
"Everybody carries as much as possible?"
And that's exactly what we do. We stuff our pockets with coins - Zevran even fills his Antivan leather boots with so many that he can hardly walk anymore. He stuffs gems into his pants and a set of goblets with many rubies and emeralds into his backpack. Morrigan has given up on trying to look pretty. If she can carry five tiaras on her head that's exactly what she will do. We even load Barkley with bags filled with more coins than I have ever seen in one place. Now it somewhat seems mean of me to not have offered Goldanna the money she wanted. But I couldn't know then we would slay a high dragon and steal its treasure.
We rattle and clonk down the mountain, cross through the village that now ressembles a graveyard. I try not to look at those we have slain. The way Rori casts her eyes down she probably feels equally awful.
We're lucky our horses are still where we left them. As everybody is exhausted, we set up camp right there. Rori doesn't even bother with her tent but comes straight to mine. I so don't object. She's silent, lost in thought and memories. Sadness casts a shadow on her face and her eyes are dark with grief.
I've never had anybody to really care for me. I do not know what it feels like to have parents who love you unconditionally. There was nobody to soothe me at night when the nightmares came, nobody to comfort me when I cried. Arl Eamon, he was there, yes, but as much as he seemed to care at times, he was always distant. There were the maids that cared for me, made sure I was fed and clothed. They were nice to me, some even motherly. But none of them was my mother. They came and left, I've seen so many faces throughout the years.
Rori, she had all what I can only dream of. But she lost it and now the memories so precious to her will always be overshadowed by the death of her beloved mother and father. I can't even imagine how it has to tear her apart. At the same time, a nastily selfish part of myself realizes she's all mine. She has noone to turn to but me. Like I got nobody but her.
She allows me to undress her, slowly, her leaning into every touch, every caress. When we make love this night, it is all gentle and tender, a soothing reassurance for both of us that we are here for each other, that we are together. She needs me to be as close to her as possible. And I need her so much it makes me dizzy thinking about it.
Later she cries herself to sleep while I hold her. It's alright, kitten. A wound like that doesn't heal easily. Maybe it never does. Her father told her to not look back. Easier said than done.
When Rori has fallen asleep in my arms, I lie awake in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the night and Rori's steady breathing. It's then I feel that there could be a future I haven't yet dared to dream about. At the same time I realize how lonely I truly have been before Rori stumbled into my life. And I know, losing her would break my heart forever. It'll be nothing I could ever recover from. Ever.
The next morning I wake with my pillow soaked with something wet and sticky. I open my eyes and stare at an open mouth with sharp teeth and a long red tongue haning out of it. "Barkley," I growl, poking the dog. He must have snuck into the tent at night and squeezed himself in between Rori and me. Again. I really have to talk to Rori about that. I don't want to be greeted by dog-breath and drool first thing in the morning. "You're such a big baby!"
The mabari whines and licks my face. "Ewww, stop that! I don't want your kisses." He woofs and whines. "Ohh, alright!" I pet him and scratch him behind the ears. "You're such a good boy, such a strong and mighty warhound. Now get lost and leave me alone with your mistress."
Rori is still fast asleep and for a moment I just enjoy watching her. She looks so very young and at peace. I bend down to kiss the tip of her nose, then challenge myself to kiss every cute little freckle on her nose and cheeks. And what can I say? I kiss her awake and we move on from there -and in the end I make love to her again. And this got nothing to do with the sweet, tender and beautiful encounter we shared last night. Well, it still is beautiful... and steamy... Rori is on her hands and knees, I'm behind her... and we probably wake the whole camp. I swear, we don't do that on purpose. Well, I don't do that on purpose. Rori, I'm not so sure. I really, really try to do it more silently. But at some point all control just vanishes.
"Alistair, may I have a word?" Wynne says when I return from my morning washing and shaving routine with Rori in tow. She has become part of that ritual and ever since we first spent the night together, the ritual has been changed to... well, let's say it has become a whole lot more active. Wynne sits at the campfire with a mug of coffee and is smart enough to pour Rori a cup right away. Sipping her coffee, she goes to feed Barkley.
"Of course - anything for my favouritest mage ever." I smile. I am in a rather good mood this morning. Probably because I can't complain at all about how my day started.
"It seems you and our fearless leader are inseparable these days. Joined at the hip, almost," Wynne remarks ever so friendly.
I blush a deep crimson. "That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?" Alright, Rori has given up on putting up her tent. It's rather useless as she spends her nights with me anyway. And yes, we do make love before we go to sleep. Sometimes two times in a row, depending on how tired we are. And in the morning either after waking up or during our bath - or both. And when we wake at night from nightmares. When we set up camp and can slip away, claiming we collect firewood...
Err...
Joined at the hip somehow doesn't seem that much an overstatement anymore, now that I'm thinking about it. What can I say? I love Rori. And she's so bewitchingly beautiful. I'm addicted to her like a templar to lyrium. And I just need my daily dose. More or less. More often more than less.
"Well then, now that you're in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from," Wynne says sweetly in that grandmotherly tone of hers.
"Pardon?" I squeak and almost choke on my coffee. She cannot... she certainly won't... Blast! She will.
Wynne mercilessly goes on: "I know the Chantry says you dream about your babies and the good Fade spirits take them out of the Fade and leave them in your arms...but that's not true. Actually what happens is that when a girl and a boy really love each other..."
"Andraste's flaming sword! I know where babies come from!" I cry, spilling my hot coffee over the front of my shirt. Ow! Blast! Now I swear under my breath and try to wiggle out of the wet and smudged cloth.
"Do you? Do you really?" Wynne still sits there, acting all nice and friendly. She sips her coffee as if she was talking about the weather. A bit chilly today, it smells of snow, don't you think so?
"I certainly hope so," I snap, looking around for Rori to rescue me. Of course she's nowhere to be seen. Only Zevran and that's what I'd call out of the frying pan into the fire.
"Oh, all right then. Aww, look, you're all red and mottled. How cute," Wynne chirps and chuckles.
Oh! Now I get it! That nasty old hag! "You did that on purpose!"
"Now, now Alistair, why would I do such a thing?" She even has the nerve to look all docile. But I can see through that mask. That smile, that's not nice and sweet... it's evil. And mean!
"Because you're wicked. That frail old lady act? I'm so not fooled. I'm on to you now." I point my finger sharply at the chuckling old mage and storm off - only to be stopped by Zevran.
"Alistair, my good friend, may I offer a piece of advice? Considering your tactics..."
Oh no! I'm not being fooled again. "Oh, you say this is about tactics, but I so know it isn't! I'm not a complete idiot, you know. And I'm not going to have any of that. Tactics! You have to try better."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I am talking about."
"Sorry, I don't. All I wanted to say, I totally understand that you feel the urge to protect Rori. I would feel the same if that beautiful little Fereldan rose was mine."
While I consider punching him in the face because although I do not understand what he's aiming for, I am quite sure it has to be something dirty, Zevran goes on: "Still, you shouldn't just drop everything you're doing to run to rescue her in battle. If you can't fight that urge maybe you should plan our tactics for battle in a way that keeps you near her?"
I blink. I blink again. I frown. More blinking. "Err... uhm... so what are we talking about here for real?"
"Tactics," Zevran says slowly. He looks at me as if I was about to sprout a second head. "Are you feeling okay, Alistair?"
"Ahhh... haha... and you're for sure not about to lick some long hard object and shove it down your throat?"
Now the elf grins so wickedly I am fearing for my safety. "Well, not unless you ask nicely," he purrs and inches closer.
"Err... I think I must go. Go. Yes. Go now..." I hurry away, the sound of the elf's roaring laughter following me.
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In good times and in bad