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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
- 75
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- 77
Blasted evil immemorial blood mages!
My first thought, when Zathrian attacks us, is: Idiot! All alone against a pack of werewolves, an ancient spirit, and our - according to Zevran - ridiculously awesome party... And then this skinny bald guy almost beats the shit out of us... Well, there is a reason why blood magic is considered such a terrible, terrible force. They taught me at the Chantry never to underestimate a rampant bloodmage. No kidding! I feel completely drained from all the purifying and disturbing spells, and when Zathrian finally falls to his knees in front of me, I am so spent, I can hardly lift my sword without toppling over.
"No... no more... I cannot... cannot defeat you," Zathrian wheezes, holding up his hands in defence. My exhaustion is the only reason why he actually gets the chance to say something at all. That sword is just too heavy for me...
"Finish it!" Swiftrunner growls behind me. "Kill him now!"
Maker, I really would if I could, but I'm on my knees also, trying to push myself upright again by using my sword like an old man would use his cane. Blasted Templar skills, they suck the life right out of a man.
"No!" Leliana and Rori cry at the same time. "Don't kill him!" Rori even makes the effort to pull me away from Zathrian. I'm going to laugh about that when I can breathe again.
"No, Swiftrunner," the lady interrupts when the huge wolf is about to throw himself at Zathrian. "We will not kill him. If there is no room in our hearts for mercy, how can we expect there to be room in his."
The ex-templar in me disagrees, but as he is unable to as much as form a coherent sentence, all he can do is grunt and attempt to shake his head - and even that only has me feel dizzier than before. Not that I make much of an effort... There's still hope in me left that Zathrian could change his mind. My instructors would be so utterly disappointed, seeing me fail as a Templar again.
Rori picks me up and has me sit on her lap as if I was a toddler. I snuggle to her with my head resting against her furry shoulder, waiting for my heart to slow down to normal, and listen to the lady and the keeper talk about the curse. The stubborn bastard still insists he cannot end it.
"Maker's Breath, hasn't this gone long enough Zathrian?" I groan after some toing and froing. I'm sick and tired of this. My woman is a huge furry beast that smells of wet dog - and as much as Fereldans love their dogs, I still prefer her human form. "You talk about your people. Well, there are many back in the camp, infected with this curse. Instead of babbling about your pain and your age and whatever other reason you believe you have, you could end their suffering with ending the curse."
Zathrian is still making a fuss...
"For the love of Andraste, what more does he want from them!" Rori whispers, sounding frustrated and close to tears.
"We beg you," the lady says softly, "show mercy!" And with her all the werewolves but Gingersnaps drop to their knees in front of the man who condemned them and bow their heads.
"You shame me, spirit," Zathrian gasps, finally, finally touched by the gesture of the beasts he created.
"Then you will end the curse?" the lady asks hopefully. That moment everybody is staring at Zathrian. It's now or never and when he raises his head to look the spirit he summoned in the eyes, I am not the only one to hold his breath.
Then the ancient elf nods tiredly. "Let us... let us put an end to it all."
Great Maker!
When the curse is broken, Zathrian falls to the ground. His body crumbles as the time he has stolen catches up with him and soon all that is left of him is a heap of dust. At the same time the lady's body begins to dissolve in a golden hue of light that spreads from her onto the werewolves that have gathered around her. It's so bright, it blinds me and I cover my eyes for protection.
Once the light is gone... so is the lady... and the werewolves... they are... they...
Oh merciful Andraste!
There's misshapen heaps on the ground where the beasts stood before. Smouldering heaps surrounded by the sickening stench of burnt hair and flesh.
Next to me Leliana faints. So does Zevran - but - unlike the bard - gets caught by Oghren before he can hit the ground. Morrigan is being violently sick. I couldn't care less. I am on my hands and knees next to the misshapen well-done meatball that used to be my wolfwoman.
"But... but... the curse ended," Wynne stammers over and over again while I just... I don't know... I want to scream but no sound leaves my mouth. I want to cry but there are no tears... I... it feels like dying and yet I am still alive... all I manage is a few choked sounds... I hesitantly lay my hands onto the smouldering werewolf corpse... and jump backwards when I feel... something moving inside...
Now I do scream.
The heap of flesh and fur shakes and then it breaks open, like being torn from the inside and through the small gap there appears... a hand. A small human hand all covered in blood.
Holy Maker!
I scramble back towards the smouldering remains and start ripping at the gap, tearing it open until it's wide enough for me to reach into it to get hold of the human being inside and pull her out.
I fall backwards and Rori lands on top of me. She's very naked and trembling and crying and covered in gore from head to toe - but who cares when she's back and fully human again. That's the first thing I check, two ears, two eyes, two legs, two arms, then counting her fingers and toes like midwives do with newborn babies. Yep, everything as it should be.
"Rori! Maker's breath, Rori! Are you injured? No? Holy Maker! I love you, oh, how much I love you... you stink and you're absolutely gross... but I still love you." I cry and laugh of joy and relief at the same time, I hug her and kiss her and cradle her - and then I count her fingers and toes again, just to really make sure.
"Alistair, please, please, take me away from this place," Rori murmurs, clinging to me as if I was about to dissolve should she let go. I am the last one to object. I want to get out of these ruins and never return again. So I leave it to Wynne and Leliana to help the other victims of the curse and to Zevran and Oghren to recover the dragon's treasure.
The forest has changed. It's not as hostile anymore as it used to be - or maybe I am imagining things. The moment I stumble out of these ruins into the bright sunlight with Rori in my arms and faithful Barkley at my heels, I feel somewhat guarded as if someone... something watches over me.
The forest leads me back to our makeshift camp next to a brook. We are so exhausted; we collapse on the ground and fall asleep in each other’s arms at once with Barkley watching over us. Later I help Rori bathe. All the time neither Rori nor I say a single word. Now it's over, we finally realize what a terrible mess this all has been. I can't even imagine how Rori feels right now. It's already hard for me when actually nothing really happened to me.
I use up a whole bar of her verbena scented soap only to wash her hair. And another one to scrub the rest of her clean. Barkley eats the third one before we can stop him. Then he stands there, cocks his large head to one side, looks at us with puppy-dog-eyes, wags his tail... and belches. It's as if he had broken yet another spell that bound us... Rori begins to giggle and that sound is so beautiful and catching that I join in and soon we are both laughing so hard, we roll around on the ground with Barkley bouncing all around us and barking happily.
Grinning broadly at her, I pull her into my arms and kiss her, pouring all my emotions into that caress, my love, my joy and happiness, the fear, sadness and grief that held me captive for as long as she was gone. She returns the kiss with as much eagerness, passion and despair and we end up on the blanket together, tenderly exploring each other’s bodies. It's a bit like coming home after a long time. Everything feels familiar and is yet so new and exciting. And it scares me...
Maker, we've never been so close to losing us! The mere memory chills me to the bone - and I know, I could never be the same man without her, that losing her would destroy me.
"Rori...," I murmur, my voice raspy and raw with emotion.
"Hush," she whispers, putting one finger on my lips. "Make love to me. Please, Alistair, please."
Oh, that she doesn't have to ask for twice! "Your desire is my command." Smiling, I catch her hand in mine, placing a soft kiss to every knuckle. I have every intention to worship her like only she deserves it and to kiss every inch of her ravishing body, from head to toe... or the other way round. Taking hold of her ankle, I gently kiss her instep. Rori immediately tenses and glares at me.
"Hey!" She points her finger at me scolding. "That's not what I meant! Alistair! Let go! Now!"
"No!" I tighten my hold on her ankle, ignoring her glowering at me.
"Alistair! Don't you dare!"
I do dare. I just can't help it. She can squirm all she wants, I still place a soft kiss on the ball of her foot and on every single one of her cute toes - and then I suck the big one into my mouth.
Rori giggles, her face all flushed, her dark blue eyes sparkling, she's so bewitchingly adorable. The golden-pink light of the setting sun gives the wild curls framing her pale face a fiery glow. Tiny droplets of water glitter on her creamy skin, pearling down her beautiful bosom and pool into the small cavity of her navel.
Maker, I thought I would lose her! And now she is here with me, human again and in all her naked glory!
I still can't believe that Zathrian gave in and lifted the curse from her and all of the other werewolves. It seems so unreal to me... that moment when she broke free from the body of the beast as if she had worn it like a coat. A very stinky, terribly gross and utterly disgusting coat...
I keep pinching myself - or Rori, who then swats playfully at me - to reassure myself I am not dreaming this, that it is really Rori sprawled on a blanket in the middle of blossoming spring flowers at the shore of the brook. The water murmurs softly, birds sing, the sweet scent of the flowers mingles with the rich moist smell of the forest... all this beauty was lost to me until now when I suck at this awesomely pretty big toe that belongs to the most ravishing woman in all Thedas... who is about to kick my teeth in if I don't let go of her foot at once. Maker, that girl is ticklish!
I release her and, giggling uncontrollably, she collapses on the blanket. "Mean!" Rori gasps as she wipes the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes. "You are so... mean! I've suffered so much. You should be nice to me!"
"You think so? Then how about this? Nice enough?" I purr, lazily trailing kisses up her calves, pausing at her knees to kiss all those cute freckles there - until she grows impatient because it's really a lot of freckles.
"What's that supposed to be?" Rori giggles, watching me quizzically as she's proped up on her elbows. "The Alistair version of Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes?" A broad and truly evil grin spreads across my face. Rori's smirk suddenly seems a bit forced. "Oh no! No, no... no! Don't you...!"
But I already hum the tune of the children's song as I pull her to a sitting position - much to her dismay. "Duh, Alistair! I want you to make love to me, not to dance that silly..."
"Head." I run my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp while I kiss her temples and the side of her face.
"Mhmmm," Rori purrs, leaning into the caress. "Maybe that's not so bad after all..."
"Shoulders." I trail open mouthed kisses across her shoulders and collarbones to the hollow of her throat.
Rori sighs in delight and relaxes onto the blanket, purring like a cat that gets her belly rubbed - until I grab her legs and run my tongue across the hollow of her knees. "Knees and..." I smirk triumphantly.
"NO!" Rori squeaks, trying to get away from me as soon as it dawns on her that she is in great danger. She's lithe and she's fast, still I manage to tackle her down and pin her beneath me before she can dart off into the forest.
"... toes..." Mwhahaha! She shrieks and laughs and kicks and squirms - but there's no escape. The ticklespawn knows no mercy! "... knees and toes..." I only release her when she can hardly breathe anymore and her face is bright pink. She rolls around on the ground and gasps for air in between her giggle fits.
"And again!" I cheer, grinning broadly at her.
"No-oo-oo!" Rori hiccups.
"Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes..." This is fun. At least for me. I am tickled pink. So is Rori, at least all the tickling has her turn a brighter shade of pink. Especially her face and ears glow...
"I... I hate you!" Rori gasps as she very unsuccessfully tries to scowl at me. Realizing her failure when I just chuckle and brush her damp hair from her brow to kiss her forehead, she sticks her tongue out at me. "Hate you," she mutters with emphasis. Despite all her contempt and hatred, she snuggles to me when I pull her into my arms and smile lovingly at her. "You're such a jerk," she grumbles, punching my arm while I laugh at her.
"And eyes...," I chuckle, placing soft kisses on both her eyelids. Rori just pouts, having decided to be in a huff.
"...and ears..." I breathe as I nibble at her earlobe, moving on to trail kisses along the outline of her ear. Rori crosses her arms in front of her chest and presses her lips together stubbornly, in an utterly useless attempt to stifle the soft moan that escapes her.
"...and mouth..." My lips claim hers and for a moment she refuses to kiss me back. It lasts about two seconds, then she hungrily accepts my caress and our tongues intertwine in a long-lasting, passionate kiss that leaves us both breathless.
"...and nose..." I nuzzle her nose with mine, causing her to smile as she nuzzles back. "Ready for the last line?"
"Alistair, please..."
"Head..." Starting at her temple, I trail kisses across her cheeks and jawline, then I suck and bite and kiss my way down her neck... "...shoulders..." ... across her collarbones and cleavage until I reach the soft mounds of her breasts...
"That's not my shoulders, Alistair..." Rori's half-heartedly murmured complaint is drowned by a loud moan when I roughly suck her nipple into my mouth. "Maker's Breath!"
Roaming her body with my lips, I proceed downwards, across the flat of her belly, with a little intermediate stop to lap up the water in the hollow of her navel.
"Not my knees..." Rori giggles as she teasingly tugs at my hair.
Grinning smugly I lift one of her legs on my shoulder, turning my head to kiss her inner thigh up to her knee, then repeating the same with her second leg. "... knees and..." I lower my head to kiss the soft folds of her womanhood - thoroughly - until I have her gasp my name in between those cute mewing noises she makes. I watch her while I lap up her juices. She's lost to her own pleasure. Her cheeks are so prettily flushed, her lips slightly parted, eyes half-closed as she rolls her head from side to side.
Mhmm...
"Caress your breasts," I whisper against her heated and moist flesh as I push one finger inside her tight entrance. Doing as told, Rori obediently cups her breasts, rubbing her nipples between her fingers while I keep pleasing her with my tongue.
Maker, she's so... beautiful... and hot...those cute mewing noises and soft moans, the way she gasps my name... and that sight of her coming undone as her orgasm makes her whole body shudder and toes curl...
"...toes..." I cheer triumphantly. Now, that was really worth all the waiting and reining in my own desire.
Rori just groans and with some effort props herself up on her elbows to look at me. Her hair is a tousled mess, her cheeks burn bright red. "That song isn't yet finished, you know," she purrs as she walks her fingers across my chest and the firm muscles of my belly.
Insatiable little minx.
I just grin.
"... knees and..." In one fluid motion I flip her around and pull her onto her knees with her firm little ass high in the air and her face pressed down on the blanket. She squeaks in surprise, then cries out when I thrust into her. "Maker's Breath!" I swear it's not only going to be her toes to curl this time. I think, I need to rest for a moment... that tightness of her moist velvet heat wrapped around my manhood... it's almost too much... "Holy Maker!"
"Stop invoking the Maker, Chantry boy, you got a goddess to worship!" Rori teases, wiggling her pretty little ass in a way that pushes me even deeper inside.
"Blasphemy!" I groan and - collecting all the willpower I possess - pull out of her. Rori snarls at me and I can hardly stop her from turning round and tackling me. "Now, behave," I growl, bringing my palm down on her hindquarters once I have her back in place. She gasps, then moans loudly when I slowly slide my manhood back into her. Out again - and another sharp slap to her buttocks follows. And so I worship her until her backside is burning red with the imprints of my palm clearly visible. Her moans and cries mingle with my own sounds of pleasure, the world around us fails to exist and it's only her and me, mating like mammals in the middle of an ancient forest.
Out of the corners of my eyes, I see the mabari has taken advantage of nobody watching him and is gnawing at one of Leliana's fancy green boots. Rori has noticed, too and makes a weak attempt to scold him... Barkley responds with dropping the drooled all over boot as he bounces towards us and licks Rori's face while she's still on her hands and knees with me pounding her from behind...
I swear the blasted dog does that on purpose!
Rori very unsuccessfully tries to fend him off. "Ewww! No... oh Maker!... you filthy pooch... yesssss!... no!...not you, you mangy scoundrel... Maker's Breath! ... get lost... ohhh... you slobbering flea-bag!..."
This is so hilarious, I just can't resist...
"Yeah, baby, I love it when you talk dirty! "
This is probably the first time we laugh ourselves into an orgasm.
"TOES!" I roar, with Barkley joining in with a loud howl and Rori just being a complete mess of giggle fits and the aftermaths of her climax.
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In good times and in bad