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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
- 88
- 89
- 90
@johnny:
OMG! You so read my mind! As you already think to see what I am going to do, I can totally tell you the whole thing. Okay, so the very moment Rori slays the archdemon, it bites off Alistair's head and both the archdemon's and Alistair's soul end up in Rori's baby.
And fuck Dragon Age lore about the Dark Ritual! As you might have noticed during that story, I never care to take that into consideration anyway, like using calendars or reading all the novels, World of Thedas 1 and 2 and like having played the game four times in a row. Noooo, not me.
But, the plot, right? Okay, so after the final battle, Rori will marry Anora, to have a BDSM relationship with her, and they will raise their archdemon-Alistair baby together until Rori can get hold of Morrigan in Witch Hunt and receive a secret ritual from her that allows her to speed up the aging process of demon-baby Alistair by sacrificing Anora, Eamon and Isolde. Rori and the now adult demon-Alistair will rule together - and that's when Rori will finally reveal that she is an insectoid alien from another universe sent to destroy Thedas. Awesome, isn't it?
Chapter 89
"Anora is not amused," Amethyne informs me when she sails into our bedroom sometime around... duh, I don't know... the sun is shining... and it's bright... too bright... Anyway, the elven kid carries a tray loaded with a morning after breakfast...
"Bless you, Amy," I mutter when the girl hands me a cup of strong black tea.
"You should expect her here as soon as the golem has broken down the wall."
"Huh? Who?"
"Anora," Amethyne says patiently in that tone Wynne uses on me when I'm completely at a loss. She butters a slice of toast, slaps marmelade on it and shoves it into my hand.
"Duh," is all I manage as a reply while I munch on my toast. Meanwhile the elfling tries to revive Rori. Lying prone, she occupies most of the bed, drools onto her pillow and snores softly. Cute.
I don't really know when Rori and I returned to our bedroom last night. Or was it morning? I do remember that Amethyne tucked me into bed after pulling off my boots and commenting on the condition of my socks. And I recall that this happened after she shushed Rori and me all the way to our bedroom since we roared The Soldier and the Sea Wolf on top of our voices.
Boy, we were so pickled, I don't even know how we managed to get to our bedroom at all.
Grunting, Rori next to me props herself up on her elbows and confusedly blinks at her handmaiden. She yawns and stretches like a cat, having that tangled ball of red hair sticking out of her head bounce around as if it has come alive. Her hangover has to be as bad as mine, maybe even worse. Still she grins like a naughty little imp as soon as Amy delivers the news to her. "Discovered the bricked up door, didn't she? Hihihihi! Owww... you couldn't ask Wynne for a potion against a splitting headache, could you, Amy? Please?"
Wordlessly Amy pulls two vials from the pocket of her apron, handing one to Rori and one to me. "You really shouldn't drink that much," she scolds us.
"Yes, ma'am," Rori and I mutter compunctiously.
This girl is creepy.
"The golem says, it will take at least an hour to set Anora free," Amethyne informs us. Rori snorts her tea out of her nose and I almost choke on mine. We both have seen Shale tear down walls like this with one single handed punch. Usually Rori hasn't even finished the sentence "Shale, could you please..." and the wall is already gone.
Maker, I love that walking talking statue!
"One hour?" Rori giggles once Amy has left. "What does she do? Scratch the mortar out with a toothpick?"
"Do you want to go and see?"
Rori wags her head from side to side, considering the pros and cons of leaving the bed. "No," she finally decides and although I am curious I so can't complain since she snuggles to me, smiling brightly. Next she steals kisses from me, nipping at my lower lip teasingly.
Hmmmm... this can't be that bad a day if it starts with Rori and me in bed together, eager to coax each other out of our clothes. I somewhat thought this would all be slow and we would go easy on each other. I don't want to push Rori to do anything she isn't ready for. She, however, seems to be determined to make good use of that hour before Anora is set free to bother us again.
"Are... are you sure?" I mutter breathlessly when I actually get the chance to say something at all before she sucks my tongue into her mouth again.
"Yes, I'm sure. Never been as sure as right now. Well, maybe back when..." This time it's me to silence her.
And that's how I get rid of my pants and smallclothes real fast, pulled down and tossed aside by Rori rather unceremonously. She'd make short work of my shirt, too, but first... I have to pee.
It's not that easy to convince Rori to let go of me. She's all over me, tearing at my shirt, and I only reluctantly throw her off when she climbs on top of me.
"Don't go away, I'll be right there," I mutter, hurrying to disappear behind the screen to answer the call of nature while my woman stays in bed and pouts.
"Hurry up!"
"Woman, really, you can wait for a minute or two, can't you?"
"No! I need a real man and his... iron-hard tumescence - now."
"His what!?" I laugh and almost miss the chamber pot.
Rori giggles all bashfully and girlishly. "Your engorged member, swollen staff or whatever you want to call it. I need it. Or more like, the door of my womanhood needs it. Desperatedly. Now."
"Rori, has Zev been talking to you again? Or... Oghren?" I ask suspiciously. I am standing here with my whatever she wants to call it in hand and have this weird and somewhat awkward conversation. How can she say all those things without blushing... okay, considering all the giggling, she's probably flushed from head to toe.
"I've borrowed one of those romance novels Wynne likes to read."
"Wynne reads about... engorged members?" I croak. "That sounds somewhat... painful... and... Maker! She's... she's old! She's like my granny! How can she read about such things!?"
"She puts on her reading glasses, opens the book and concentrates on the letters, I guess."
"You're doing this on purpose," I complain as I emerge from behind the screen - and freeze.
Maker's Breath!
My ginger is sprawled across the bed with her legs parted. She's not wearing a single piece of clothing and, watching me intently from her large blue eyes, she sucks at her index finger, then circles it around her rosy nipple. "What are you waiting for?" she purrs, flushing a brighter shade of pink at the very same time. Then she grins sheepishly. "This is silly, isn't it?"
Shaking my head, I stand there, wearing nothing but my shirt and my socks, and gawk foolishly. I think I also drool. But only a little bit.
"Alistair? I really begin to feel stupid, you know," Rori complains as she repeats the ministration with her second nipple.
"You got that from the romance novel? Maker, I should read more..."
"Yes, and you should be totally turned on..."
"I am. Really. Totally. Engorged and swollen and iron-hard." I lift the hem of my shirt to show her.
"I think you meet all the requirements," Rori grins.
"Now, ain't I lucky... wait, what does that say about Wynne when I meet the requirements of... ew... EW!"
"Alistair!" Rori claps her hands to regain my attention. "You are supposed to act sexy now."
"That's a piece of cake! Prepare for the sexiest man alive in action," I laugh. Standing with my back towards her, I sway my hips, wiggle my ass at her and slowly begin to lift the hem of my shirt with one hand, smacking my other down on my buttocks. All the while I sing: "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts!"
"Al-al-alistair!" Rori howls with laughter. She tries not to, even bites her pillow to stiffle it, but she has no chance. I can see my own reflection in the mirror and I so can't blame her. My iron-hard tumescence is bouncing up and down while I dance... and I look anything but sexy. I wiggle my eyebrows at my grinning reflection and lunge into the crescendo of my performance.
"I'm your lover, you know what I mean, and I do my sexy show in your bedroom, yeah, in your bedroom, in your bedroom, yeah, I do my sexy show in your bedroom..." Pirouetting, I rip the shirt open, flinging it into the corner of the room...
And that's the very moment when the door is slammed open and I just got enough time to dive behind the screen for cover. Rori yelps and pulls the blanket over her head, rolling out of bed on the side farthest away from the door. She peeps over the mattress the very moment I lie flat to peep under the screen.
"Lady Cousland," Anora begins sternly. I really don't know if she hasn't seen anything at all or just pretends she hasn't seen anything at all. I do hope it's the first or I am going to die a very slow and painful death of mortified embarrassement. "I do hope you rested well - despite your nightly activities." Rori snickers and Anora scowls at her. "There's some things I have to talk to you about..."
"Can't you fucking knock!?" Rori returns the greeting. She still seeks cover behind the bed, clutching the blanket to her chest.
"I knew your family. Eleanor in particular was dear to me - and she believed in you as did your father," Anora goes on as if Rori had said nothing at all. "What Howe did was unforgiveable. How fitting he died at your hand."
"Yes, awesome," Rori grunts as she lifts herself off the floor, wrapped in the blanket to cover her nakedness. With her head held up high she for sure has as much dignity as a woman can have who tries to shove her panties under the bed with her foot while pretending she is only having a conversation and nothing else. "What do you want, Anora? Spit it out! I got more important things to do."
"I will be blunt," Anora says, unberturbed by the fact that Rori hit her big toe at the bed while attempting to hide her underwear and now, cursing under her breath, is hopping around on one foot. That's not that easy when you also got to keep a blanket from slipping. "I can see that your voice will be a strong one in days to come. You are the Teyrna of Highever, though not by title or acknowledgement through my father, many nobles will regard you as Bryce Cousland's rightful heir. It is to you that Eamon and Angus listen, and with good reason."
The way Rori stares at Anora, she's pondering if the queen has lost her mind. "Eamon? Listening to me? When did that happen?"
"My father must be stopped," Anora declares. She starts pacing the room - and stops when she comes across my smallclothes. One raised eyebrow is all that indicates she is taking notice of the scattered clothes, the rumpled sheets and the lack of proper clothing on Rori. "But once that is done, Ferelden will need a ruler. I would welcome your support for my throne."
"Maker! Not again!" Rori groans, rolling her eyes. She lets herself drop face forward onto the bed when Anora stays all calm and just continues with her Anora-for-Queen-campaign.
"For years I have ruled this kingdom as Cailan's queen. As much as they loved Cailan, all of the Bannorn knew this to be so. Cailan was a good man. But what is needed now is not another good man but a good ruler," Anora explains matter-of-factly.
"What part about me saying no is that hard to understand?" Rori mutters in exasperation.
"I believe it's you who doesn't understand," Anora lectures the younger woman. "I sent Erlina here not solely because I thought I needed help, but because I saw an opportunity for us both. I need your support and you need mine."
"I already saw how you support me. Thank you very much! I am not interested in any more of your supportive support," Rori snaps furiously, lifting her head from the bed to glare daggers at the other woman.
"You shouldn't forget that we are talking about Ferelden's future, not about yours," Anora remarks, sounding as if she was teaching a retard how to use a spoon. "It is time to grow up. Time to act like the person people believe you to be. Time to make the right decision for Ferelden."
Rori snorts noisily same time as I do, causing Anora to turn around, frowning at the screen where I'm still hiding. She doesn't know, I am here. Ha! Wondeful! Means she hasn't seen me naked but for my socks!
"What do you think of Alistair's potential to rule, never mind his willingness?" Anora suddenly asks, catching Rori by surprise. My beloved fellow Grey Warden freezes, boot in hand that she clearly has only picked up for one reason: to throw it at Anora.
"He is stronger and wiser than anybody including himself wants to believe."
Awww. That's sweet. And so not true. I'm just... Maker, most of the time I feel as if I don't know myself. Perhaps I have never known who I am. I always lived with my head in the clouds, dreaming of who I want to be but never having the courage to leave the path I was made to follow by other people's decisions. I accepted my fate because it was my duty - but also my lack of courage to actually decide for myself. I also hardly knew what to do with my life. And now they really want to make me king. That's quite a joke, don't you think?
"Alistair seems like a kind, well-meaning man and biddable enough," Anora observes, hurrying on when a very sour faced Rori lifts the boot once more. "These are admirable qualities, if not kingly ones."
Biddable? Well, yes, I guess, I am. That's probably why everybody talks about me becoming king without ever asking for my opinion. At least Anora never discussed that matter with me. Instead she turns to Rori, hoping she is going to tell biddable Alistair what he's supposed to do. There's just one thing she obviously never took into consideration: Rori for sure is not biddable. I very much doubt that word even exists in her vocabulary. So at this very moment, she doesn't biddably nod to everything Anora says. Quite the contrary.
"He also seems to be a fine Grey Warden - which is actually why he should remain one, and serve the kingdom by defeating the darkspawn," Anora goes on, rather unimpressed by Rori's by now seething temper.
"You don't freaking know him! You talked to him for how long? Five minutes? And that makes you think, you can judge him?" Rori hisses.
"Cailan knew about Alistair. He collected any information he could get about his half-brother. And whatever Cailan knew, he shared with me. It was Arl Eamon that kept Alistair out of the courts, as Maric had desired. But that couldn't keep his existence a secret."
Wide eyed, Rori stares at Anora. "Cailan knew? But... Maker! That means... he sought to protect him!"
"What are you talking about?" Anora demands to know.
Yeah, I'd like to know that, too. My brother... he was kinda looking after me all this time. That's what Anora is saying, isn't she? I mean, it's not that he checked out if I was a potential threat, right? Right? Not when what Rori says is true...
I lie there on the ground, naked but for my socks, and have all fuzzy brotherly feelings about a man I hardly knew. He cared... well, not obviously, but he did. I wish, I had known him better, that there had been a chance to talk to him... But he's dead. It makes me want to cry.
"So all your knowledge about Alistair and his character, you got it from tales and the information Cailan collected. Awesome! Of course you wouldn't have to talk to him then to get to know him in person," Rori says icily, ignoring the queen's question.
"Let's stay realistic," Anora says. "There are some who would follow Alistair out of respect of his Theirin blood. The others would see this as Eamon grabbing for power. Who else do you think Alistair would turn to for help? Eventually the nobility would return to the old days of constant warring with each other. Alistair's weakness would destroy everything Maric built."
"But you of course can make it better," Rori snorts. "And you don't need anybody's help to do so because you are so very awesome, the sun shines right out of your wannabe royal ass!"
"Language," I mutter under my breath to myself and then hurry to bite my hand until I taste blood to stiffle my laughter. Maker! If Anora doesn't leave soon I am going to burst.
"I believe that I am what this country needs. And I will fight for what I believe," Anora declares with her head held high. Agreed, she doesn't give up easily. I would have already left Rori alone. It's quite obvious she's not going to side with Anora. It's probably not the wisest decision, especially if she still considers her drunken ideas from last night to help Anora claim the throne and leave her alone with all the mess. But the way she looks, she would explode if she tried to suppress her anger and contempt for this woman. "Would Alistair do the same?" Anora demands to know.
"Blast yes, he would!" Rori shouts, finally throwing the boot. It crashes into the door right behind Anora. The queen flinches but doesn't back away. "He has fought for what he believes ever since Ostagar, raising an army to defend Ferelden while you allowed your father to take the power away from you and start a civil war!"
Anora still doesn't get she is not going to win Rori over. "Supporting me you will be seen as supporting the interest of Ferelden as opposed to solely those of the Grey Wardens and Eamon."
For a moment it seems as if Rori was about to lunge at Anora across the bed and beat the pigeon crap out of her. Inhaling deeply, she - with some effort - manages to control herself and when she finally talks, her voice is dangerously calm. "You know, I have the feeling, no matter what I do, if I supported you or not, you'd backstab me anyway. And now don't give me shit about how your reign would be the best for Ferelden. This is not about Ferelden, this is about Anora who has made her ass comfortable on the throne and doesn't want to give it up."
"So you're going to go on with these childish pranks like bricking up my door?"
"That was the most entertaining event ever since I went to rescue you from Howe."
"You are making a mistake..."
"No, it's you making the mistake if you believe Alistair or me to be nothing but puppets to be used and manipulated."
"You seem to forget that at this very moment you neither have a title nor a teyrnir to rule and that your power is borrowed from both the legend surrounding your parents and the respect they have earnt..."
"Get out! Now!"
Anora slowly nods, turning towards the door. With her hand on the knob, she one last time takes a look around the room. "Maric's boys are charming, aren't they? And happiest when they can dote upon a woman. That's what keeps you at Alistair's side, isn't it? Perhaps it's not alone Eamon grabbing for power but you, too."
"Biddable? Dote upon?" Rori begins, her face a mask of fury and contempt. "Now I do understand why Cailan planned to divor...." Before she can finish her sentence, she claps her hands over her mouth to stop herself.
"What did Cailan plan?" Anora asks suspiciously.
"Nevermind," Rori mutters and her expression softens for a moment. "You loved Cailan, didn't you? In your very own way, you loved him. Well, I love Alistair, if that's what you want to know. The difference between us, Anora, is that I believe in the man I love instead of regarding him as a lovable but useless fool."
I have to crane my neck uncomfortably to get a better look at Anora - I wish I hadn't made the effort. Her expression is so cold and calculating, it makes me shiver. Okay, maybe it's me lying on the cold stone floor for a while now that causes the shivering... but that doesn't make Anora's glare any more pleasant. "I was hoping you would be more like your mother, a woman who would put Ferelden first and not her own petty desires..."
I believe, she would have said more but that's when Rori grabs Wynne's rather thick romance novel from the bedside table and hauls it at Anora. That makes the queen's exit a little more hurried and less dignified than she certainly planned.
"She really has a nasty glare," I sigh when I lift myself from the floor. Blast it! I am sick and tired of being pushed around like a pawn. And I am sick and tired of being seen as kindhearted but foolish, as someone expendable when not useful anymore. "She wants to be queen. I get it. I don't trust her more than her father. But I get it. People say Anora is smart, determined..."
"Blast, yes, she is," Rori groans, flopping down on the bed. "The nicest thing I can say about her: She's her father's daughter. Don't get me started on the not so nice things or you'll have to listen to my rant for the next few days."
"I say that's where the problem lies," I growl, punching my fist at my palm. "People like her and her father always think they're the only ones who can fix things. So everyone should just stay out of their way." Rori grins proudly at me. "What? Oh, come on! I'm not kingly! I wear nothing but my filthy socks!"
"Kingliness got nothing to do with the clothes you wear or don't wear. I still think you'd make a fine king."
"You say that now. Just wait, I'm full of surprises," I laugh, winking at her. After her encounter with Anora, will Rori still consider helping her to stay on the throne like she said yesterday - when she was awfully tipsy? I don't even want to think about what Eamon said, not when I am here all naked and she is here all naked...
But that's when Rori jumps out of bed and hurries to clean herself and put on clean clothes.
"What about your desperate need for the iron-hard tumescence?" I pout while she brushes her teeth.
"It has to wait," Rori mumbles, toothbrush in mouth. "First we have to convince a bunch of nobles to support us at the Landsmeet."
"They won't run away, will they?" I sulk when Rori throws a clean shirt at me - that I do not catch because I really don't see why we shouldn't stay in bed for a little longer. This is all Anora's fault. I didn't think it was possible to like her even less, but she proves me wrong over and over again.
"It can't hurt to be able to control the whole game even without Anora's support," Rori mutters, putting on her boots. "She's not as powerful as she wants us to believe. Loghain is in control, not Anora. That makes her appear weak and no more than her father's puppet."
I still stand there in no more than my socks and try to look as pitiful as possible. Unfortunately Rori is too busy with the tangled mess on her head to notice my puppy-dog-eyes.
"In case she gets her throne, I want her to know the Grey Wardens are the ones who put her there with the backup of the Ferelden nobility - the Warden's backup, not hers," Rori goes on, checking her weapons before she straps them to her back. "She better not even gets the idea to fuck with us..."
"Talking about fucking..."
"In case it's you becoming king, I want the nobility to unite in loyality for their new king." Rori turns to me, noticing for the first time I haven't moved an inch. "Don't you want to get dressed? You're certainly impressive that way but..."
"I take it I will have to act kingly?" I interrupt her.
"Yep."
"In that case, Lady Rori, move your pretty little ass back into bed," I order with as much kingliness I can actually manage. "That's a command," I add just in case it didn't sound like one or I didn't sound like it. I wiggle my eyebrows at her and present my best boyishly charming lopsided grin. That always works with Rori. Well, almost always. Most of the time... kinda... "I want to introduce you to another royal member..."
"More like royal jelly at the moment," Rori giggles, ogling my manhood.
Ow!
Ouch!
"You really have a way to boost a man's self-esteem, kitten," I mutter.
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In good times and in bad