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Reason(Complete)	By : chibichibi01 Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2518 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age. I own Remy. I don't own any of the NPCs, they all belong to Bioware. I'm also not making any money from this.

Chapter List
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Mandatory Author's note: I don't own the boys, I'm not making any money, yadda yadda.
More importantly, if you like the story please leave a review. If you don't like it, leave a review. Those help writers like me get better.
And I don't condone getting Al- who am i kidding. I'll always condone getting Alistair and Jowan Drunk together. DO IIIT.
Alistair stared morosely into the cup of ale he'd pilfered from Oghren. He hadn't had any, not yet. He was just remembering the last time he got drunk: after the death of the Archdemon. That had only been a tankard of normal ale, but he'd woken up the next morning with a headache the size of Antiva, a mouth that tasted like a graveyard, no memory of the previous night, and lying next to Zevran. He knew nothing had happened between them, as they had both still been clothed, but the way Zev smirked at him for a week afterward had been unnerving.
Taking a firm grip on the handle, he tipped the tankard up to his mouth and took a swig. He shuddered as the foul brew slipped into his stomach, creating a hazy pool of warmth in his midsection. Taking a deep breath, he took another sip and started wandering the halls, determined to get to his room before anything blew up in his face.
He squinted. And staggered. And fell against the wall when he saw Jowan lurking outside of his door. "What're… what're yoo doin' here?" he slurred out.
"Maker's breath! Alistair! How much have you had to drink?" Jowan hurried over to him and tried to take the ale away, but the blonde whined and pulled back.
"Mine! And it's first one. Why does it matter?"
Jowan managed to catch a glimpse into the tankard and groaned. "Alistair, this is over half full. Are you sure this is your first one?"
Alistair glared at him. Of course this was his first one. Did the brunet really think he'd polished off a few before staggering back to his room? "Of course first. But Oghren…" He shook his head. "Oghren's doesn't know. Shhhhh…" He pressed a finger to Jowan's lips in a hushing motion and then giggled.
"Oh, Andraste's blood," Jowan muttered, supporting Alistair, who was now leaning on him. "Oghren's ale. I should have known. Come on then, Commander. Let's get you to bed and get that alcohol away from you."
Alistair blinked innocently down at the mage. "Take it away? Why? Wait!" His face lit up in a grin. "You can have the rest. And then we can talk." He nodded.
Alistair watched as a blush bloomed on the mage's face. "No, Ser." A gulp. "I don't think that would be appropriate."
Alistair pouted. "BAH. Drink wif me! Pleeeaaase?"
Jowan massaged his forehead and started shifting his weight to get them moving. "Ser, why do you want me to drink with you?"
"Because." Alistair grinned, this was all too perfect. "Because I… I think I really like you, Jowan, and I want you drunk, too." Too bad his mental capacities reverted to that of a four year old.
Jowan sputtered. "Ser, how do those two lines of thought even-"
"Drink!" Alistair interrupted with a goofy grin and tipped the tankard up to Jowan's lips, forcing the mage to drink, lest he get alcohol all down his front.
Alistair watched as the mage sputtered and then he tired to raise the tankard again, but to his disappointment, was fended off this time. He tried another tack. "Jowaaaannn…" he whined, "Help me into my room?" He really wanted the mage in there and really wanted the other man to not leave. There wouldn't be any leaving on his part. Not this time. And since I'm drunk, his mind reasoned, it's not like he'll be like before. Yes, mind. Thank you.
He watched the emotions flicker over Jowan's face before the mage slumped in a resigned sort of way and said, "Of course, Commander. Lean on my shoulder, we're almost there."
Alistair did his best to not cheer out loud and slumped against the mage once more, taking another sip of his ale.
When Jowan managed to get him into the room and set him onto the bed, he grabbed the dark-haired man and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you," he mumbled into Jowan's robes, hands sneakily making their descent.
Jowan sighed and patted him on the head. "It was right here. You could have made it here by yourself."
Alistair looked up at him with wide innocent eyes. "But what if I'd fallen! What if something had happened to me in the, uh, small space between here and there?" His hands slipped a little lower.
Jowan fixed him with an unamused look. "You are drunk, Ser. But not that drunk, so I'd lik- eep!"
Alistair approved of that noise, and grabbed a double handful of Jowan's rear again, just to see if the mage would squeak again.
He did. "Eep! Commander! Stop that!" He twisted away, much to Alistair's disappointment, and stepped back to the door. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier," he said, eyes nervously darting around.
Alistair flopped back onto his bed. "Don' wanna talk about it," he mumbled, his mood plummeting. "I hurt you. Used you." He looked up and blinked. "Why're you still here? Why do you… stay?"
Jowan sighed and leaned against the doorframe, expression unreadable. "Alistair, if I'd wanted to get away from you, I could have. I'm not helpless anymore. You have your Captain Daveth to thank for that." He quirked a wry grin.
Alistair lurched off of the bed and stumbled over, leaning against Jowan again. "But why stay? Why? I.. treat you bad."
He felt the smaller man sigh and then heard, "Because I care about you, Alistair. I…" A pause. "I love you. And it's not likely you'll remember any of this in the morning, so just… go to bed, Commander."
Alistair pulled back and leaned in for a kiss, his hands lightly gripping the shorter man's shoulders. His lips touched Jowan's only briefly before he staggered back to the bed, tankard and foul mood forgotten.
Jowan poked at his food miserably the next morning and sighed every few minutes until Anders jabbed him in the shoulder. "Ow! What?" He rubbed the tender spot and glowered. "Is this so important you had to stab me?"
Anders snickered and he grinned. "I've got a plan. Alistair is heading out today and planned on taking Nate and I with him. But," he said in a sing-song, "I'm rather sick today." He let out an obviously fake cough. "Nate will have to stay behind to take care of me, and since Remy has to watch the Keep while our illustrious Commander is away…" He trailed off and waved a hand in the air.
Jowan paled. Well, more so than usual. "You're… Maker. You're jesting! You have to be!" He buried his face in his hands. "Alone. With Alistair. A grumpy Alistair who is sure to have a hangover. Maker, I'm doomed."
Anders blinked in surprise. "A hangover? But he doesn't drink. I've never seen him with even the smallest amount of alcohol."
"That's because Alistair can't hold it." Zevran settled himself at the table. "My dear friend has the lowest tolerance for ale that I've ever seen." He grinned. "A single tankard and he won't remember anything."
Anders bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "So, Jowan, why will he have a hangover?"
Jowan buried his face in his hands. "He got into Oghren's brew. Maker only knows why he did it, but he managed about a third of it last night."
Zevran tilted his head curiously. "And how did you come across this knowledge? Last I saw of Alistair, he was still making up reasons to hate you."
Jowan went scarlet. "Uhm. There was a… an altercation," he mumbled. "I was trying to talk to him about it, since he seemed to… misunderstand. I was outside of his door when he staggered up and tried to force some of that ale on me."
Anders covered his mouth with a hand to muffle his snickering and Zevran just raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
Shortly afterward Alistair slouched into the dining hall, looking belligerent. Jowan buried his face in his hands with a small whimper, trying to make himself look as unassuming as possible.
Alistair zeroed in on them though, quickly followed by Nathaniel. "Anders. Come on," he said, squinting. "We need to get an early start."
Anders chose that moment to display his acting skills. With a cough that sounded real enough to cause a look of panic to flicker across Nathaniel's face, he grinned weakly. "Sorry, Commander. I don't know how I managed to catch a cold." Even his voice sounded rough. Jowan was impressed.
Nathaniel pushed past Alistair, gathering Anders up in his arms. "Sorry, Commander." His tone nearly the same as Anders' was. "I'm not going if he's sick."
Zevran raised an eyebrow and then grinned. "Take Jowan with you. You need a mage with you, and everyone else is going to be busy."
Jowan looked up in horror into Alistair's grumpy face. "Fine," the warrior said grudgingly. "But if he turns me into a toad, I'm blaming you. Come on." Alistair turned on his heel and strode out of the dining hall, Jowan slouching along behind him.
"This is all your fault!"
"My fault?" Jowan leapt over a fallen log. "How in the Maker's Hells is this my fault! You're the one that wanted to take the long way around to the Black Marsh!"
Alistair opened his mouth and caught a mouthful of tree branch. Spitting leaves out, he snarled, "If you hadn't insisted on trying to sneak past them, we could have killed the sentries and this horde wouldn't be chasing after us!"
That did it. Jowan slowed to a halt and pulled out his dagger, turning to face the oncoming darkspawn. "Commander, hide."
"What? What are you-"
Jowan turned his head to look back at Alistair. "I'm sorry! I never wanted to use this again! Now hide!"
Alistair's eyes widened and he lunged forward as he figured out what Jowan was about to do. "No! You are not allowed to use blood magic! That's an order!"
"Then you can discipline me for disobeying if we survive this." He swept his staff around, knocking Alistair to the ground, and then turned back, letting it fall beside the commander. Stabbing into his wrist, he grit his teeth against the pain as he drug the knife up to his elbow.
Alistair gazed upward, winded but unharmed, watching as Jowan performed the most complicated piece of magic he'd ever seen. When the whirlwind of blood and debris was gone, the forest was silent, the darkspawn dead. And there stood Jowan, smiling weakly at him, arm dripping before the blood loss caused him to faint.
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Reason(Complete)