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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
- 60
- 61
- 62
First big big thanks to AuroraCousland for proof-reading! She has to endure my 'I'm-a-complete-retard-computer-clumsiness' and still wants to proof-read.
Then, I have posted her link before, but really, check out totally fabulous Erusel's art on tumbir . and tell her if you like it! It's not just the writers who love reviews. http://onehundred-fandoms.tumblr.com/post/110527524711/sketch-dump-ive-been-reading-such-a-wonderful
And also Notevensorry's tumbir http://noimnotevensorry.tumblr.com/ - and if you like her art, tell her how awesome she is, will you please? Because her art truly is awesome and she deserves some love.
Chapter 61
“Alistair, my dear friend, did you really have to destroy that anvil?“ Zevran remarks, sounding regretful.
“We promised to do it,” I point out. I don't feel much like chatting with the lecherous elf right now. Not after Hespith, Laryn, Branka and Caridin. It weighs me down, just like everything in the blasted Deep Roads. We have returned to the camp of the Legion of the Dead. Kardol was obviously surprised to see us again, even more so after he heard our story. “It ensures nobody gets ever turned into a golem again.”
“Rori promised to do it,” the elf corrects me. “You didn't promise anything. But of course you had to act as a gentleman when she couldn't even lift that hammer.” I try to suppress a grin at the memory of Rori – a quite petite woman – trying to lift the hammer – a quite huge and heavy tool. I fail. It was just too cute how she pulled at it with all her strength, her face all red from her struggle, and it didn't even move an inch. “At least we got to see you work the hammer,” Zevran muses as he rakes his eyes over me. “And the hammer went up and down, and his muscles worked under his sweaty skin,” he purrs, the rosy tip of his tongue darting out of his mouth as he licks his lips slowly.
Huh?
“You didn't get to see any of my muscles or skin,” I mutter, inching away from the elf.
“Oh, I do have a vivacious imagination, my friend.”
“We should have taken the anvil,” Morrigan agrees. She has been blissfully silent ever since fighting the broodmother. See, I am an incurable optimist. I can even find something positive in encountering a broodmother. “An army of obedient golems would have been much to our advantage when fighting the archdemon.”
“I don't see much of a difference between the use of the Anvil of the Void and Flemeth's ritual to possess her daughter's body,” Rori comments and – Whoa! Someone please pinch me! - Morrigan blushes and – I so can't believe this is happening – looks ashamed. She casts her eyes down and stares at the indefinable stew in her bowl. Unbelievable! Displaying two human emotions in one day! Wynne should check on the witch. She has to be ill.
“Oh, I wouldn't have minded to become a golem... then I would always be as hard as a rock,” Zevran chuckles, winking at the ladies, sitting together at one side of the campfire. Although nobody wants to stay any longer in the Deep Roads as absolutely necessary, we do need a rest and the Legion provides food, a safe place to catch some sleep – and best of all: fresh water! I feel much better now that I have scrubbed Laryn off my skin. Too bad none of the dwarves had a razor. Every single one of the small men I asked just stared at me as if I was completely nuts.
“You're already as dumb as a box of rocks,” Morrigan comments, returning to act like the mean bitch she is. Good! I've already been worried! “And that is hard enough to endure.”
“Aw, you are such a cruel woman, dear Morrigan. So much beauty combined with so much malice. It is most intriguing.” The elf is truly an optimist or he's suicidal. I can't decide.
“Can't you just crush his head?” Morrigan asks Shale. The golem has been rather silent ever since Caridin told her who she was. Even more though since she had to watch him kill himself. “And Alistair's when you're already at it.”
“Hey! What did I do now?” I sulk.
“You exist,” Morrigan snaps.
Charming as always. She's working hard on making up for those two moments when I actually could have liked her.
“Zevran, you have noticed that no golem has their proper parts left after the transformation, haven't you?” Leliana asks sweetly. She's painting her toe-nails bright red. I really don’t understand why. She says a girl wants to have pretty feet. Then she paints Schmooples's toenails, too. Well, if it makes her feel better. After all the deaths we've witnessed, I guess everybody deserves their bit of comfort.
“Ahhh, I knew there was a catch!”
“You already make things rock just the way you are, Zev,” Rori laughs as she sits down in front of me, handing me her brush. Ahh, and there is my bit of comfort. I love brushing her hair. It's still damp, scented with the freshness of verbena. Oh, how I missed that scent. I had almost forgotten how it smelled. I love to run my fingers through her soft hair, love to nuzzle the top of her head and inhale that scent. Closing my eyes, I almost manage to imagine we are not in the Deep Roads.
I know, Rori and I still have an unpleasant task ahead before we can rest. We have to enter the nest of the broodmother once more to show Kardol and his officers the horrible truth. They cannot believe unless they see it with their very own eyes. I cannot blame them. It's too terrible to imagine. But they have to know. They have to realize the danger the women are in and the danger they can become should they be caught by the darkspawn. It is Leliana to offer a solution that could work:
“Bards with the most delicate missions carry a small vial with them filled with deadly poison. In order to protect their secrets they would commit suicide when caught rather than giving away what they know.”
It sounds like madness... but compared to the transformation it's a salvation.
“Do you think that's what happens to the female Grey Wardens that go to the Deep Roads when they hear their Calling?” Rori wonders when our short time of rest is over and we lead Kardol and his men and women deeper into the now darkspawn-less Dead Trenches. He obviously doesn't care about orders now. Not after what he has learnt. “Wouldn't that be ironic? Their whole life long they fight the darkspawn only to be turned into something that probably spawns more than they could have killed in five lifetimes.”
“Rori, you really shouldn't think about that.” I don't want to think about that. I cannot endure thinking about that. And I wish she wouldn't insist talking about it.
“Shouldn't I? It could be possible, couldn't it? It scares me right out of my mind.” She shudders as if freezing in a place so hot with all the lava flowing around that I feel like getting slowly boiled in my armor.
“You cannot know this would happen” I try to soothe both her and me – without much success. I hate Leliana's idea, I hate the mere thought of Rori carrying a vial of deadly poison with her, I hate that she could be forced to drink it.
Rori nervously chews at her bottom lip while we watch from a distance how Kardol and his officers examine the broodmother's body. She looks as if she's going to be sick again. “I do not want to take the risk. If I live long enough to hear my Calling, nobody can make me go down here to die – if I died. Dying sounds like fun compared to what happened to Laryn.” She leans against me, pressing her face to the crook of my neck. “Lets get out of here. They'll find their way back without us.”
Out of here doesn't mean straight out of the Deep Roads, though. It means Cadash Thaig as Rori says she couldn't find the strength in her to return to the Deep Roads once she has left them. Agreed, although I don't really get why we have to risk our lives for the lost memories of a golem. Don't get me wrong, I have begun to somewhat like the walking-talking statue. She still creeps me out but listening to her when she bashes Morrigan – HA!
Anyway, the day comes when we return to the gates of Orzammar, all dirty, exhausted and traumatized but at least we're still alive - somewhat. I stumble through the city streets, feeling more dead than alive, deafened by the noise of thousands of voices, overwhelmed by the mass of people and the brightness of the light – and hey, this is an underground city! I am completely lost, holding on to Rori's hand, although she's as confused and stunned as I am.
Luckily the Grey Warden estate is not far away or we'd have gotten totally lost. Luckily the house has several bathrooms as we all run for them as soon as we fall through the door. (Well, not Oghren, his first destination is the larder and the beer barrels there.) Luckily dwarves are masterminds when it comes to practical inventions so they used the lava to heat their water and one just has to open the faucets for either hot or cold water and the tub, actually a stone basin embedded into the floor, fills itself. Awesome. I can't resist playing with the faucets, turning them on and off - until Rori joins me and I find it's far more exciting to play with her instead.
So within no time at all after our return to Orzammar, I find myself excruciatingly tortured. I sit in almost scorching water with a naked ginger stradling me, her core pressed to my throbbing manhood and I cannot dare to move as she is sliding a razor blade across my throat.
Yes, I was totally looking forward to shave that fuzzy beard off. Honestly, I look as if I had a dirty, strawberry blonde ferret clinging to my face. At least the whole hairy mess stinks like a ferret. You get the impression. And I certainly do love Rori shaving me... but... oh Maker!... this is going to push me to the limits of my selfcontrol and willpower...
"Are you trying to kill me?" I groan, trying to keep as still as possible while Rori is sliding around on my lap, rubbing herself against me. It's damn hard. Uhm... not that... okay, that too!... very, very, very hard... but what I actually mean... oh Maker!... keeping still is... -gasp! -...hard!... Maker's Breath!
My breathing is ragged, I swallow hard when I try to clam down, causing my Adam's apple to bop at my throat just when Rori runs the blade across it.
"Hush, keep still," she whispers close to my ear, pulling at my hair to make me tilt my head back, then carefully and oh so slowly running the razor up my chin. Her fingers still entangled with my hair, she leans closer, pressing her bosom against my chest.
Oh merciful Andraste! I swear she does that on purpose.
I can feel the hardness of her nipples, scraping across my chest, and the stark contrast of the softness of her mounds, It's driving me crazy. She is driving me crazy.
I clutch the sides of the stone basin to keep my hands from trembling - and to keep myself from grabbing her hips and slam her down on my painfully erect manhood.
"Ro-ro-rori, oh Maker... don't... oh... yessss!" I moan when she begins to rock her hips, her slick core slipping across my member. How she manages such a steady hand is totally beyond me. Her grin is so smug. She looks like a cat that got the cream, so pleased with herself.
I didn't get to make love to her for weeks, if she goes on like that she'll have me cum simply by teasing me as she does. And she knows. She even has the nerve to hum when she shaves the small patch above my upper lip. All the time she sways her hips in an excruciatingly slow rhythm, massaging my manhood with her soft folds.
Maker's Breath! I want to fuck her. Now.
"Put it down," I growl, reaching out to take the razor from her. Carefully, because the thing is sharper than sharp and she's working my face with it. Just Rori won't put it down.
"Behave yourself, prince. I am not yet done with you," Rori scolds me, her voice husky, her beautiful eyes hazy. She isn't as unimpressed by her actions as she wants me to believe.
"Could you please hurry?" I beg with a bit of whining just for the effect. Rori is merciless, though. She just snickers and kisses the tip of my nose before continuing to give me a rather close shave.
"So impatient, your Highness?" she teases, rocking her hips forcefully against mine. I almost jump right out of the tub. All I can do, is clutch the rim of the tub harder, until my knuckles turn white, to stop myself from bucking my hips in reply as she moves the razor across my skin.
"Your Hardness would be more appropriate," I gasp, scowling at her when she giggles. Little beast!
The moment she puts the razor down, I'm upon her. I don't even wait for her to wipe the rest of the foam off my face, tossing the towel away when she reaches for it. Her protest is muffled by my lips claiming hers for a deep, searing kiss. I revel in her sweet velvet taste, our tongues intertwined for a sensual dance.
In Zevran's stories women's kisses taste of strawberries or cherries or wine. Rori's taste of sage. Her lips are so soft against mine, like the petals of a rose. I have kissed her a thousand times or more and still I am astonished at how her simple kiss can make my heart beat faster, how it can send a warmth that feels like the essence of happiness spreading through my entire body, how it can sent shivers down my spine that spread into my loins and have me tingle with excitement.
All the time she's been teasing me, I felt like I could not endure it any longer. Now I hold her in my arms, slide my hands along her sinuous body, feel her and taste her, she's the one to urge me on, impaling herself on me.
Oh Maker!
I have to grab her hips to slow her down and stop her from shoving me over the edge.
I've been thinking about making love to her again all our way back to Orzammar, fantasizing about how I'd slowly drive us both over the edge, how I'd worship her body... It worked perfectly as a distraction from... well, you know... all those things that happened. Anyway, I had it all planned out. And I am planning to stick to my plan...
"So impatient, dear lady?" I rasp, sounding all sexy and husky. Whoa! I'm so hot, she has to watch out to not get burned... Too much? Yeah, probably.
"Alistair!" she protests, trying to buck against me as I wrap one arm around her waist to keep her still. At the same time I seek access to her breasts which means she has to bend backwards... "Ow, hey! Are you trying to break my back?"
"Sorry, kitten," I mumble, grinning sheepishly. I rise from the water, taking Rori with me. I sit her down at the edge of the basin with me between her legs.
This is much better. I have full access to her breasts as she's sprawled across the floor, her back arched. And I control the pace of our lovemaking, sliding in and out of her in an oh so very slow rhythm, lazily stroking the velvet tightness of her inner walls. With the same laziness I circle my thumb around that tiny pebble between her legs, eliciting those cute mewing noises from her. Oh, how I missed that sound.
She's my goddess, I'm her disciple - and I am going to worship her now... This is so much better than divine service at the Chantry... maybe Zevran is right, more orgies definitely would be an improvement... oh, whoa! Where did that thought come from? I am so in for eternal, everlasting, endless perdition.
Rori giggles as she watches me, her beautiful, dark eyes half closed and hazy with lust.
Maker! I love how she clenches around me when she laughs while I am inside her.
"What's so funny?" I mumble breathlessly against her skin, nuzzling her neck. She sighs contently, squirming when I continue my ministration, trailing soft bites and wet kisses past her collarbone to the soft mounds of her breasts.
"You are... Oh Maker!... Thinking. Dirty. Thoughts. Aren't. You? ... Merciful Andraste! Alistair!"
She really shouldn't attempt to start a conversation when I am sucking roughly at her nipples. At the same time I keep thrusting into her in slow-motion. All the way out, all the way back in. Oh, how she squirms.
"How do you know?" I mutter, causing her to hiss as I stop my assault for as long as it takes me to say these four words. She's unable to answer as I return to thoroughly worship her heavenly body. All she manages is to breathe my name repeatedly and moan. It's like a symphony she composes only for me.
I push her closer and closer to the edge, her breathing is ragged, her body tenses. She's strung like a bow, her pleasure so tightly knotted it's almost painful. She's going to burst into a mindnumbing climax once she reaches her peak.
As much as I'd love to continue this sensual torment, I can't endure it anymore. The unbearable pressure in my testicles, the tantalizing throbbing of my manhood... It's high time for a crescendo... I pull out of her once more, all the way, slowly, with the tip of my erection teasingly poking her entrance as I make her wait. She almost sobs when I break the contact, then cries out in surprise, pleasure and pain when I thrust back into her forcefully.
I don't give her any time to adjust to the new rhythm. I grab her hips, slamming into her over and over again after I've kept her close but never let her slip for such a long time. She cums so violently that her whole body spasms, She's practically lifted off the floor by the force of her orgasm and she clings to me, digging her nails into my shoulders. She can hardly gasp for air before the second thunderous wave of pleasure crashes against her.
I am dragged along. She's so tightly clenched around me, she's practically squeezing me, milking my seed out of me. It's pure, blissful, mindnumbing. It's fortissimo. I see stars dancing in front of my eyes. Never before have I been so aware of my body. At the same time I feel like floating. I collapse on top of her, panting heavily, when Rori comes undone with a third mindshattering climax.
Trembling she lies in my arms. My body feels too heavy to move. There's a tingling sizzling through me from head to toe. My head is absolutely empty as if I just effectively blew up my mind. That's what the sisters at the Chantry always said would happen when one had unreproductive sex... Boy, they were right about that after all!
With my face pressed against Rori's breasts I just stupidly mumble incoherent nonsense. I even drool a little, my ginger is in no better condition. We're both so spent that all I manage after what seems an eternity is to drag myself out of the basin. Then we curl up in each others arms and fall asleep right there on the stone floor...
"So, how did you know I was having dirty thoughts?" I mutter sleepily, my eyes still closed, when I feel Rori stir and stretch next to me. I have no idea how much time has passed while we slept. Those dwarves are amazing. They have a system that heats the whole floor. I could lie on these stones forever, the warmth against my back is pure bliss for my sore muscles.
"Your ears were practically glowing red," Rori murmurs dreamily. "They always turn pink when you have dirty thoughts. It's so incredibly cute."
"I'm not cute, woman."
"Sure. You keep telling yourself that."
- 60
- 61
- 62
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In good times and in bad