Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

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
- 57
- 58
- 59
@Erusel: SQUEE! More sketches! So looking forward to seeing them. Did I mention I love your drawings? I did? Well,it can't hurt saying this again. Glad you liked the chapters.

Notes:

If you have read The Stolen Throne you will find Alistair's experiences in the Deep Roads quite similar to that of his father. That is – of course – not a coincidence. I always thought it quite ironic how much Alistair's parents tried to protect them from leading a life as theirs and how he – depending on the choices of the player – turns out just to lead that life.

Chapter Text
„So. With the boss, aye?“
I look up from my bowl of porridge tiredly and find the dwarf wiggling his eyebrows at me as he nods in Rori's directiion. With her head resting on the table she has fallen asleep again.
We did go to bed early last night, but we didn't get much sleep. I mean, it could be the last time we made love to each other, with us going into the Deep Roads now. We aren't exactly... err... picky with the places we choose for our lovemaking... actually not at all... If we were we'd not spend a quarter of the time together doing certain things like... err... licking lamppost... Maker! Rori has become quite an expert in licking lampposts. Solid rock hard lampposts. Not that I have any comparison... still.... Now I want to drag her back to our bedroom... Anyway, the Deep Roads? Really, who would even think about making love while in the Deep Roads? That's just... gross!
„Pardon?“ I mumble, mouth full.
„You and the boss. Rolling your oats.“ Oghren chuckles, smacking his lips. „Hehe.“
„I don't know...“ Oats? Huh? I stare down at my porridge. Is something wrong with it? It looks quite fine to me. And it just tastes like porridge always does... awful. I'd rather have some cheese. Just don't ever try to mix cheese with porridge. Neither the porridge nor the cheese get any better when thrown into a pot together. My companions didn't like that experiment of mine at all. I can't blame them. Rori's bowl of porridge is still untouched. Even asleep she clings to her mug of coffee.
„Polishing the footstones.“ Oghren growls lowly, leaning closer as if he shared a dark secret with me. I lean back as far as possible without falling off the bench. He cannot have been drinking again that early in the morning, can he?
„...what you're...“ What in the name of the Maker is he talking about? Leliana is giggling into her mug, She feeds her porridge to Schmooples. The pig-rabbit eats anything as long as he can chew it.
Oghren is still grinning at me, showing off all his rather big teeth. There's something stuck in between his incisors. Ew. I am missing something... again, right? Sigh.
„Tapping the midnight still, if you will.“ Now Zevran joins in on Leliana's gigglefit. Morrigan just rolls her eyes and Sten is as unperturbed as always while Wynne chooses to ignore us.
„What are you going on about?“ I groan, narrowing my eyes first at eyebrow-wiggling Oghren, then at Zevran who keeps thrusting his thumb into the circle he has formed with the indexfinger and thumb of his other hand. I stare and shrug. Zevran nods in Rori's direction. I shrug once more. Leliana almost chokes on her coffee.
„Forging the moaning statue,“ Oghren goes on. „Bucking the forbidden horse. Donning the velvet hat.“
Err... this is about... about... I look at my highly amused companions and the drunkenly jovial dwarf in utter confusion.
Huh?
Oh, no! No! Not again!
I get it, I get it. Yes, haha, making fun of stupid Alistair again, aren't you? Why is everybody getting so excited about my love life? Go get one yourself!
„Are you making these up right now?“ I sigh. Just what I needed, one more companion commenting on Rori's and mine exertions, like Zevran would say.
„Nope. Been saving 'em,“ Oghren grunts. „Anyway, good of you, son. A girl and no pants involved, that's exactly what you need.“
„That's what all of us need,“ Zevran sighs, dreamily ogling Morrigan's cleavage.
„You've got more than you can handle, Zevran,“ Wynne scolds. „That's nothing you should be worrying about for a while. You and your lose morals!“
After breakfast I have a last bath and a last shave with Rori – that takes slightly longer than one would expcet... okay, much longer. Then we are finally ready. All of us. Even Zevran.
„Yes, I'm in. Just one thing I want to have done before climbing down into that ancient graveyard of old dwarven ruins...“ Thus said, the elf grabs Rori around her waist, pulls her flush against his chest and, before she can as much as yelp, he kisses her. Like for real.
Whoa! Whoa! Elf, the darkspawn is not what you should be worried about right now!
„Sorry,“ the Antivan bastard slurs once he lets go of the compeltely shocked, utterly stunned and downright dumbfounded ginger. „I just had to do that once at least. You can't blame me, can you?“
„I really do hope for you that's the only thing you have to do with her at least once,“ I growl, pulling Rori away from him. „You're trespassing.“
„Feeling a bit territorial, are you?“ Zevran grins while Rori, clinging to me, still blinks and stares and gasps, trying to recover from the unexpected assault. „Well, there's nothing you should worry about, my dear friend. She's all yours for always and forever - if you don't mess it up, that is.“
Charming.
„You kissed me!“ Rori breathes, still utterly shocked. „He kissed me!“
„We all noticed, my dear,“ Wynne comments, pulling a face. „I'd brush my teeth thoroughly if I were you. With that elf you never know where he stuck this tongue of his before. And if you notice something itchy...“
„You're kidding! She's kidding, right?“ Rori pulls a grimace of utter disgust. She sticks out her tongue, ogling it cross-eyed.
„Oh, Wynne, my darling, there's no need to get jealous...,“ Zevran laughs amiably.
„Jealous? Keep dreaming,“ Wynne snorts.
„Don't you listen to that mage, my sweet Fereldan rose. And forgive my boldness. It will not happen again.“ He grins apologetical at both me and Rori. „Now, the Deep Roads before I change my mind.“
Yes. The Deep Roads. For two days we walk without any sign of darkspawn. The vast passage with the grand pillars is magnificent. Even after so many centuries most of the buildings and statues are still standing in all their magnitude. On the third day – not that we could tell if it's night or day in this everlasting darkness – we discover the first darkspawn corruption and soon afterwards the first darkspawn. Nothing we couldn't handle but we can still call ourselves lucky for having Wynne with her healing spells in our party.
Soon afterwards the corruption becomes worse. It's awfully fleshy and slimy, it stinks and when you have to walk through it, there's this disgusting sucking sound whenever you lift your foot for the next step.
Gross.
Next to signs of Branka passing through we also discover that my sword – formerly Maric's – makes the darkspawn recoil. The ancient dwarven runes on the pale dragonbone blade glow in a bright sapphire light, and when I testingly touch the blade to the tainted wall, the fleshy substance retreats. That's real cool. And disturbing. And... ewww... what is this corruption after all? Does it... live? Better not think about it!
„Now, that is a sexy sword,“ Zevran comments. „Wielded by a sexy man,“ he adds with a very toothy grin reserved for me alone. I wryly grin back, edging away from the elf. He's somewhat scary.
I don't feel sexy after three days unwashed and – worse – unshaved, although Oghren keeps telling me I finally start looking like a man.
„My sexy man,“ Rori remarks, wrapping her arms around my waist as she beams up at me.
„Eww.“ Morrigan shudders. „And there I thought there could be nothing more gross down here than the darkspawn.“
„You both are so incredibly territorial,“ Zevran sighs, shaking his head sadly. „I take it you've never even thought about a threesome or partner exchange?“
A what? „Err... no?“
We have finally discovered the route to Ortan Thaig. The progress is slower than we hoped, still Rori wants to set up camp again for some rest as long as we don't face more darkspawn activity. Shale tries to smash the darkspawn corruption by stomping on it while the rest of us tries to get as comfortable as possible.
„It grows on stones, so it could also grow on a golem, right?“ I wonder out loud. „Then you would be all covered in that fleshy substance, becoming some kind of flesh creature yourself, soft on the outside with a tough core.“
The golem glares at me and steps away from the fleshy overgrowth, trying to wipe its feet off at some not yet covered stones.
It's as silent down here as it is dark. Sometimes there's the sound of water rushing or the clicking noises of the giant spiders that cause Rori to tremble and urge us to move faster whenever we hear them.
„So, Shale... when you were standing there all that time? Did you... sleep?“ I aim for some pleasant conversation to break the silence as I watch the golem hop around on one foot to examine the other.
„I have no need to sleep,“ the golem grumbles. „My body does not tire or do... ugh... other flesh-related functions.“ Its eyes follow Oghren as he drops his pants and, grunting loudly, relieves himself right next to our makeshift camp. The ladies don't exactly react fondly. I can't blame them. Even Barkley's manners are better. At least with the dwarf around Wynne will not find the habits I have picked up that horrendous anymore. They pale in comparison to Oghren's.
„Why did you never tell?“ Rori gasps overhearing my conversation with Shale.
„It never asked.“ The golem shrugs, watching with growing amusement the argument taking place between Wynne and Oghren. The dwarf will find himself beaten up anytime soon. My bet is on the granny mage.
„First and only watch: Shale!“ Rori declares without any further arguing. „And move the camp away from that... mess!“
„But don't you get bored?“ I wonder. What does one do with all the time when one does not sleep? Or do any other flesh-related things. It doesn't eat or drink. It doesn't hug anybody... uhm... I guess, we can be quite happy about that. Well, it hugs that sapphire Rori allowed it to keep. And that cuddling stone she purchased for Shale back at Denerim. Shale calls it Herbert. Says it reminds it of some villager that used to wipe it off after the birds came. „Wouldn't you want to dream, at least?“
„I do not dream.“ Shale says matter-of-factly. „This is what it does when it sleeps? It paws its nose and mumbles incoherently.“
„I do not...“ I begin irritatedly.
„Oh you do! It's so cute!“ Rori squeals, kissing my cheek.
„But, yes, of course, I thought we all...“ Wait! I get how Rori would know what I do when I sleep... but Shale? „Huh?... you watch me?“
„I watch all closely when they are still at night. There is little else to do.“ The golem shrugs.
Creepy! „For hours and hours?“ I croak.
„I count the breaths, it helps to overcome the overwhelming urge to crush their faces while they sleep,“ the golem muses.
„Well, I won't be doing much of that anymore,“ I mutter. I suddenly don't feel that tired anymore. Being watched by that creepy statue all night long. Being totally at its mercy... „Err... Rori? About Shale keeping watch...“
Ortan Thaig. Not so many darkspawn. Far too many spiders.
The moment we step out of the passage and pass the broken gates that lead to the forgotten thaig, the webs become obvious, covering the walls and – as far as we can tell the ceiling above. There's signs of skeletons entangled in the ghostly webs, some of them by animals unknown, some darkspawn, some dwarves.
Traveling has weighed our spirits down. Everybody is taciturn and feeling uneasy. We walk as fast as we can manage, Rori and I both tense, reaching out with our Grey Warden senses to detect the darkspawn before it detects us. Strangely they do not seem bothered with us at all. When we cannot avoid a confrontation, the darkspawn will attack – but they do not come for us. Not like Duncan said they would when telling of his experiences in the Deep Roads. He said, once they knew there was a Grey Warden, they would let all the others know, their group consciousness alarming the whole rest of the horde. We can only assume it's because of the Blight that they take no interest in us.
The spiders, however, do not follow the archdemon. For them we are some fresh juicy snack walking right into their lair.
Rori stands at the entrance and her whole body just trembles. She'd happily fight a whole horde of darkspawn and abominations instead. But spiders... We can call ourselves lucky that the archdemon is a dragon, were it a spider, Rori would have run for the hills by now.
The mere sight of the arachnoids paralyses her, when they come for us as soon as we are well into the thaig, huge shadows from above, dangling over our heads as they try to crush us beneath them. The clicking noises their mandibles make, their large misshapen bodies, glistening black in the magic light of the staffs. And worst of all their legs, long and hairy and skittering across the stones.
The clicking noises grow louder and louder until suddenly a huge creature drops from the ceiling with a soft thud at the very spot where only seconds before Zevran stood. The elf cartwheels himself out of the way just in time, Sten, walking right behind him, reacts to his cry of alarm by greeting the spider with his long sword. More hairy bodies fall from the ceiling, aiming to seperate us. I stay close to Rori, her fighting lacking her natural grace as her fear overpowers her.
„Fight!“ I shout at her and whatever it is in my voice, she moves, visibly pulling herself together.
I slam my shield at the side of a spider's head, causing it to tumble as I follow after it to slice my sword throug the glistening chitin. White liquid gushes from the wound when I withdraw my blade.
Next to me Rori screams as she is suddenly lifted off the ground by something from above. I try to grab her but she's already too high to reach her, struggling to get free from the gossamer by hitting at it with her dagger. But she only gets herself entangled worse.
„Morrigan!“ I shout and the witch reacts instantly, shooting a fiery bolt from the tip of her staff. The strands that hold Rori get scorched and she comes tumbling down, my attempt to catch her sending us both to the ground. The spiders are upon us within a heartbeat.
Our companions charge at the same time. Zevran pulls us both back to our feet while Oghren, Shale, Sten and the dog keep the spiders at distance with the help of the mages and the archer. Oghren is pushed down by a spider, clicking its poisonous fangs at him frantically. He headbutts it, gripping it's first two legs and hauls it across the floor. Morrigan fires a spell at a spider looming over her, the blast hitting the creatures soft belly. It comes crushing down and the witch's next blast goes amiss, setting the webs on fire. Moments later we find ourselves trapped in an inferno as the flames spread with lightning speed, black scorching strands raining down on our heads.
We run. The spiders run, too. Thankfully they are more concerned with saving their own lives than with hunting us. Their screeches sound even louder than the roaring of the fire. The smoke is pitch black and thick, almost suffocating. We cough and choke, blinded by the smoke. I grab around for Rori's hand, dragging her along as she stumbles. I follow the shouts and cries ahead, hoping they will lead us somewhere save.
I am breathing liquid fire, the seething heat boring right into my lungs. It's unbearable and I am slowed down by the weight of Rori having collapsed in my arms. Then both I and Rori are lifted off the ground and I find myself thrown over a broad, hard shoulder.
„Useless weak flesh creatures,“ the golem grumbles as it stomps off with us.
With mere luck we make it inside one of the large mansions, dominated by a huge blackened dome. I cannot tell if that's its original colour. It looks more like it's covered in soot and ashes. Shale struggles to push the stone door close while the rest of us collapses on the floor, gasping desperatedly for air.
The golem just stands there and watches us spit out ashes and cough soot from our tormented lungs. Even Sten this time has a hard time to recover. Shale sighs a few times loudly and ostentatiously while it endures our disgraceful display of flesh-related disfunctioing.
We stay inside the dome, waiting for the fire to burn out. There's some fresh air flowing in from somewhere and breathing becomes easier after some time. We find the remains of an old campfire not so far away from the entry. Luckily we also find some water there, fresh and not poisoned by the taint it fills a large basin farther inside the huge building. The cool water eases the burning in my throat. It feels damn good to wash the soot from my face. We take turns washing ourselves – Rori and I volunteering for the last turn as we can spend undisturbed time together that way.
„So... any bets on how long it takes Roristair to get going again?“ we hear Zevran say once we leave our companions back at the campfire lit in the same place as the one that was lit here the Maker only knows how many years ago.
„Uhm, get out of the armour, get cleaned... ten minutes?“ Leliana guesses.
Hey! I can't believe they are making bets on that! Doesn't anybody have any respect for privacy anymore these days?
„Oh, come on! We are in the middle of the Deep Roads, we almost got killed by a swarm of giant spiders... they won't...“ Wynne says, her voice fading away quickly. „Fifteen minutes,“ she finally mutters. „Give them some time to comfort each other before.“
„Huh? The templar boy and the boss, aye? Hehe. Good on them,“ Oghren grunts. Pause. Long pause. „Mhm... Aye, sure. Why not?“
„Pardon?“ Wynne's voice sounds insinuating.
„Oh, I'd give you a roll. Why not?“ The dwarf chuckles and smacks his lips, a wet, quite disgusting sound.
„A 'roll'?“ Wynne asks indignantly.
„Aye, any time. Preferably in the dark.“ Pause. „It's pretty dark around here, hehe.“
„I suppose I should be flattered,“ Wynne huffs.
„I'm not sure I have the equipment for that, but sure, whatever gets you working,“
„You, dwarf, will never get me working,“ Wynne informs him icily.
Rori tiredly rolls her shoulders when we reach the basin. She's covered in soot from head to toe, her hands are still shaking so badly, I have to help her shed her armour and undo the ties of her blouse. Not that I mind much, although she doesn't make things easier by leaning against me for support when her legs give way.
„Hush, kitten, I do not think they will come back.“
„I've been such a total failure,“ Rori sobs. Even in the dim glow of our makeshift torch I can see the trails of her tears on her blackened skin. „I allowed my fear to paralyse me. These things almost pulled me up into their lair!“ She's shaking so badly, I have to make her sit down.
„We've all been terrified.“ Thankfully whenever entering a battle, I do not have much time to think about all the horrifying details, my fear getting pushed to the background while my instinct of self-preservation kicks in, joined by my experience on the battlefields. That's what keeps me alive.
„I wet my pants,“ Rori confesses in a very low, very very small voice. The way she says this, she's blushing violently under all that black soot.
Awww... cute... somewhat... but only because it's her. Anybody else but Rori... gross! Anyway... I should be hugging her now, shouldn't I? Say something comforting, something soothing, something that doesn't make her feel like a complete idiot...
„Well... wet frocks can have a certain appeal...“ Not exactly that kind of wet frocks... I'm more thinking about the kind where Rori rises from a bath in the lake, white wet linen sticking to her body... Mmmh...
Rori doesn't seem convinced, and that after I've handled that once more with my usual deft brilliance!
„Now you're making fun of me!“ She looks so small. Vulnerable. Everything but the fearless leader everybody wants her to be. And I love her even more for those moments when she's no more but a young woman that stumbled into this mess by mere coincidence. Her strength is not her fearlessness but how she overcomes that fear – sometimes with more, sometimes with less difficulties.
„Perish that thought, my beloved lady. I am the last who'd ever make fun of you. I know about the consequences.“ I wink at her, before I dip a cloth into the basin and wipe the soot off her face, then lean in to kiss her. Giggling, she stops me and returns the favour. „I've seen broadshouldered men, taller, more experienced and stronger than you lose control over their bladder. It's really nothing to be ashamed of... a set of extra clothes would come in handy now, though.“
„You know, one can wash them.“
„Really? Now, that's news to me. I should give it a try with my socks, shouldn't I?“
So we wash everything, clothes, armours, boots – us. I like the last part best. The water is icy. I wouldn't recommend taking a bath, but standing naked in front of each other and wiping each other clean from head to toe with wet cloths... maybe that day isn't as bad as I thought it to be...
„I think my breasts are quite clean now, Alistair,“ Rori snickers when I run the cloths around her soft mounds for the tenth time. She is one to talk! I am quite sure I can't get any cleaner anymore... and she's practically... polishing my... uhm... sword... Maker! I already begin to sound like Oghren!
„Mmmh? Oh? I don't think so... there's still a smudge right there...“ Thus said, I bend down and tenderly suck her left nipple into my mouth. No, not clean at all. Quite dirrrty...
„Now you mention it,“ Rori gasps, grabbing my shoulder with one hand for support, while her other hand tightens its grip around my length. „Ohhhh... Maker!“
All those things I said about making love in the Deep Roads... forget about them...
Her hot moist mouth explores my heated body, mine is all over hers, sucking and licking, trailing bites and kisses across each others exposed skin. Rori gasps at the rasping sensation of my stubles against her sensitive skin, so soft and smooth against my lips.
Bent forward over the rim of the basin, Rori arches her back delicately when I plunge into her from behind. Our shadows, cast at the wall in the dim glow of the torch, mimic our lewd act, our moans and the sound of flesh meeting flesh echo in the vast hall.
It's been days since we last made love to each other. Days of gloom and tension as we descended deeper and deeper into the endless darkness of the graveyards of the lost dwarven kingdoms. It's been days of fear and trouble without enough sleep or food or drink.
The whole tension is broken now, flooded into this one intense act of two lovers together. It's the best comfort we can give each other.
In addition to that it's just mindnumbingly hot, a sensation that sizzles through my entire body until I see stars swim in front of my eyes. I roar her name same time as she cries out mine. Collapsing on top of her, I almost have us both tumble head over heels into the basin. We splash around a lot of icy water, Rori squeaks and giggles, I snicker stupidly.
"Don't know about you, but my day is looking up already," I sigh contently. Maker, life is so damn beautiful in moments like this!
„So, uh, what did you do with her legs?“ Oghren greets me when Rori and I return to the campfire with our broadly grinning companions having gathered around it.
„Whose legs?“ Maker, what is he going on about now?
„Her legs.“ He nods at Rori who indeed has very pretty slender and long legs, perfectly shaped with delicate ankles and beautifully curved calves.„That's the problem with dwarven legs. They are useless as an accessory.“
„I didn't do anything with them. I don't know what...“
"I'm right here, you know. I have a name and I can hear you," Rori mutters right next to the dwarf.
„Ah, say no more. Just got em outta the way and went about your business," Oghren chuckles, ignoring Rori's icy glare. "Good on you, son.“
Blink. Sigh. What in the name of the Maker is wrong with people? Don't they have a life of their own?
„Uhm. Thanks?“
"Oh, sure, just keep acting as if I wasn't there!" Rori rolls her eyes. "Sexist bastards!"
- 57
- 58
- 59
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

In good times and in bad

Notes:

Chapter Text