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Tainted Dreams	By : wyldehart Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All characters and Dragon Age are property of Bioware/EA. I made no money, sadly.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Rocking awakens me. The scent of salt and creaking wood stirs something within me. I open my eyes and see into the rafters of a small, dimly-lit cabin. I realize that I must be onboard a ship. It seems vaguely familiar, a memory of a memory, and a place within my mind that I rarely go.
I rise, I stagger to my feet and step carefully as the ship tosses me from side to side. I have never been onboard a moving vessel but I am aboard one now. I am not afraid. I do not feel sick. I want to find the captain and find out why I am here. I know this is a dream but it is not like my other pregnancy-inspired nightmares. There is no fear, no Alistair threatening to leave after the Landsmeet. There is only the ship, ship-sounds and the rocking. Dreams, I know, have meaning regardless of what causes them. Some send you into the fade if they are deep enough. Most are tricks of the mind, tricks by your mind as you dwell on things without conscious direction. This is one of those, I am sure.
Down one wooden hall and up a wooden stair, I walk, bumping along from side to side as the ship is pushed to and fro by the waves. The salt air is crisp and pleasant. It smells like the docks of Redcliffe. I miss Eamon, dear Eamon who loved Alistair so much to put him on the throne and loved me enough to support me as queen. He is sick, his body failing him and unless Teagan has told him, he does not yet know that I am pregnant. What joy it would bring him!
My bare feet curl around the edge of each wooden step as I make my way to the main deck. I realize that, for the first time I am clothed only in a knee-length shift of thin silk yet I am not cold. The air is warm and wind buffets my face as I emerge above the main deck. I see the captain, a handsome woman in a black leather coat and heavy cotton trews pushed into glossy black boots. Isabella looks up and smiles as I approach. Her hands reach out and grasp mine fondly and as I open my mouth to speak, she covers mine with her own. I am startled as our tongues entwine and her hand cups my breast, fingers teasing my nipple. I respond without meaning to, my hand eagerly seeking entry into her blouse. Before I know it, our breasts are exposed and we are making love with the wind buffeting our bodies and stirring our senses. Salty sea spray dampens my skin, sticks my hair to it. I am greatly aroused by this fine greeting.
She smiles as the heat subsides and pulls her cotton shirt loosely back over her breasts. The effort is careless. I can still see a deep red nipple peering up at me and I pull up the straps of my shift. "Welcome aboard, Elissa, my friend! Or is that 'Your Majesty'? Commander, perhaps?"
I laugh and kiss her cheek fondly. I realize that it is truly good to see her. "Call me as you like but 'Elissa' is my name. It is good to see you. Have you been well?"
"Escaped the Blight by days! You and your handsome king gave me plenty of warning and I am proud to say that I'm still happily sailing the seas. Speaking of which, he is downstairs in my cabin awaiting us…" Her arm curled about my waist and she leaned in to kiss me again. I was given a free glimpse of her perfect, firm breasts, which are smaller than mine but her nipples are better defined, firmer and darker. I had never been attracted to a woman before but the thought of making love to her with Alistair made me giddy with the physical memory of what we had done in the past. All of a sudden, this dream is tolerable and must be born of sweet events taking place in the Queen's Garden.
"So… why am I here?" I ask as she passes the helm to a member of her crew. I try to see his face but he turns away before I can see. She grabs my arm and hauls me back to the hatch I had just emerged from. She raises an eyebrow, her dark hair whipped about her face by the wind. "I don't know. That's for you to figure out."
I follow her down the damp ladder and into the dark place below decks. She pulls me into bowels of the crew's cabin space and up to the captain's generous quarters at the bow of the ship. She smiles at me, naked as the last time I saw her and I look at her large bed. Alistair is lying there, a rakish expression on his handsome face. He embodies youth and gentleness but there is something… odd… about him. He seems to hold the blankets to his waist. I have known him to be shy but the way he clings to the sheet is confusing to me. "My love? Are you all right?" I ask as I come to sit on the bed.
He pats my hand nervously. "I'm fine. Just enjoy yourself, okay"? His voice isn't his. I know my husband and he is not like this strange, nervous man in the dream. Grated, it IS a dream but even in my usual nightmares he is usually himself, his voice, his actions. I rise. He grabs my hand. I pull away. "I… I must go." I am afraid for some reason. This is a nightmare! I back away very slowly and I am shocked when he peels back the covers. He is a Darkspawn from the waist down! The skin is dark, glistening, scaled in patches and his feet are clawed.
Isabella grabs my arms. "Stay, Elissa! Stay! Please us, darling!" 'Alistair' rises from the bed, his Darkspawn lower half a grotesque interpretation of my husband's, though greatly exaggerated. I cry out and attempt to flee. I kick Isabella, spin and run. I shove a Darkspawn "crewmember" in the face with the flat of my hand. He crashes into the wall. I am almost forced against him with the rocking of the ship as it leans hard to starboard. I trip another as he reaches for me and I dodge Alistair's hands again. Free, I run down the hall, the ship working against me but I am strong and even though I am now pursued by dozens of Darkspawn "crew", as well as Isabella and Alistair, I manage to stay ahead. The rocking of the ship hinders them as well as I.
I escape up the ladder to the deck and scramble across the wet wood. I slam down the hatch cover and I see the helmsman. He is also a Darkspawn. He is a disciple, like those I encountered in Amaranthine. His face splits into a toothy smile as he leaves the helm to approach me. "You will become one of us. Do not fight us, Warden…" He is casual as he approaches me; his strange white eyes narrow with lust.
I am terrified. It is too soon for the Calling but years ago, Alistair mentioned the nightmares Wardens have when it is close to their deaths. Could this be one of those? Could that be possible? I had barely been a warden for five years! It should be thirty or more! I run to the side of the ship. I hear Alistair calling my name. His voice does not come from the twisted creature bearing his visage but from elsewhere. I turn to the open sea. "Don't jump!" Isabella cries. I look at her, at the gathered Darkspawn. "I will die before I join your crew, Captain. Our time was pleasurable but I am a Grey Warden, committed to fighting these creatures, not serving them. Since I cannot defeat you all, unarmed, I am content to give myself over to whatever fate awaits me. Farewell."
And I jump into the icy waves far below me…
Alistair jumps into the chill water of the freshwater spring at the heart of the Queen's Garden, his skin alive with gooseflesh at the contact. He swims to Elissa, screaming her name as he pulls her over his shoulder. She doesn't fight, she doesn't move at all. Her eyes remain closed. He hauls her to the edge of the pool and pushes her onto solid ground. With strength he didn't know existed, he practically jumps out and leans over her body. His hands push into the place under her rib-cage and he turns her head so that water can gush out. He breathes into her, pushes out more water and breathes. He repeats this many times until he hears the wheezing sound of air flooding her strained lungs. He shouts his elation and rushes to embrace her. At last, she coughs up whatever else remains and lies panting against him. She shivers, clinging to him, her wet hair in her face.
"I… I thought I'd lost you for sure…!" he pants into her hair.
Her fingers entwine behind his wet back, the cool night air teasing her skin and the moon casting a pale glow upon it. There are torches but her pale flesh seems to call the cool tones of night rather than the warm tones of the fire around them. He scoops her up and carries her back to the nest he'd made to surprise her. He buries her under the blankets and joins her, his body a long comforting jumble of muscles and love against her. She presses into him, seeking the core of his warmth. "What happened? Can you describe the Nightmare, my love?" he asks, his voice quivering with concern.
She nods. "Isabella… We were at sea. It started… so erotically. In fact… I think I am still aroused…"
"You're joking… You want to do… that… after what just happened? After you almost drowned?" He is aghast as she smiles helplessly up at him. He hovers like a nervous mother, his fingers lightly entangled in her wet locks. His thumb strokes her chin, her cheek and her lips as he props himself up on his other arm. "Hm. Forgive me if I order the gardener to fill the pool with dirt and make it a cactus garden before we return from Orlais, which I am beginning to rethink as a bad idea. I'm not loosing you again."
She laughs and holds him, pulling him down upon her. "No, I like the pool. Leave it alone. And we are going to Orlais. That is final. Anyway, the nightmare ended with Darkspawn pursuing me. Rather than become like them, I jumped."
"But the nightmares…! What happens if I cannot protect you?" he said, his eyes wide and gleaming gold in the thin light of the torches.
She snuggles against him, kissing his neck and the bulge of his throat. He swallows, tilts back his head and closes his eyes. "You will. I believe that with you around, I will be perfectly safe. We both will. And if you cannot be there, well, I am pretty self-sufficient. I ran an Arling after all, and defeated a veritable horde with just a small band of misfits. I am still Fereldan's 'Hero', you know. It'll take a lot more than a few bad dreams to kill me!"
He laughs, burying his nose into her wet hair and breathing deeply the spicy-woody scent of her body. "Determined, are you?" he smiles. Her hands tell him just what she is determined to do and he pulls her against him. "I shouldn't let you do this… Not so soon after…"
Her lips stop him from saying more. "Take this opportunity now, before we have to steal kisses like thieves in the night while we're in camp, like before. We leave in two days. Tomorrow, I doubt I will see much of you as we prepare to depart and you bring Fergus up to date on what he needs to know as regent. Myself, I'll be packing our gear. Damn… I'll need armor that suits my growing belly…"
His hands caress her breasts and his lips explore her shoulders and neck as he smiles. "Done, my dear. I have commissioned a special armor for you that will be made courtesy of Master Wade. He was more than happy to do it as its design was a special challenge. Oh and the gold was attractive to his partner. It will be ready by the time we depart."
Giggling, she reaches for what she jokingly refers to as his "human control rod" and plays with it fondly. He gasps and lies on his back, allowing his wife to take control. "For a woman who almost died tonight, you sure are frisky…" he whispers. Her lips burn a trail of searing desire down his lean, powerfully muscled body. She peers up at him, her smile beguiling.
"I have a lot to live for and I plan not on just being alive, thanks to you, but living every moment that I can. I love you, Alistair. I may be considered 'Fereldan's Hero' but you are mine. Did you know that heroes get special privileges when they rescue a woman?" she murmurs from someplace between his thighs. He shakes his head, unable to speak.
She answers his unspoken question without words, her lips and tongue and hands showing him how thankful she was to be alive, to be his wife, to be the mother of his child. He arches his back, he moans, his eyes close. In two days, they would depart for Orlais to meet an uncertain fate. But for now, for tonight, why couldn't they just enjoy each other? Sod the damn nightmares. His wife was the most beautiful woman in Fereldan and if he couldn't let her make love to him the way she wanted to, then he was just a poor excuse for a man. Maker forgive him, but you just don't say no to a woman like Elissa Cousland… Elissa Theirin, he corrected to himself. "I'm a lucky man…" he murmurs as his passion rises within him and he climaxes with the force of an exploding firebomb. Maker, the woman is good. "I'm a really lucky man!"
To be continued
Writer's Note:
Couple of things. The first few chapters are set-up for the rest of the story. This is practically a novel, scripted and plotted out in full. Consider the last 7 chapters "Part One" of the whole. Also, the racy bits will probably drop off a bit though I've established Elissa as having a heightened sex-drive courtesy of being both pregnant and a Grey Warden. Al's not going to get the celibate treatment any time soon. I hope you continue to enjoy the tale. There are some nice twists along the way. One more thing: The intense nightmares, like this one, will continue to be told from Elissa's perspective though the tense will change when we bump back to the story line. The tense stayed in the present form for the entirety of this chapter because it suited the events. I apologize if it throws anyone off. - Rene
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Tainted Dreams