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 |
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
"Anora, the Landsmeet has decided against you. You must now swear fealty to our king and relinquish all claims to the throne for yourself and your heirs." Eamon demands while I still try to get used to Just Alistair being King Alistair now, well... soon... after the coronation. Somehow I imagined there would be a difference but I still feel like a fool.
"If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know nothing of me," Anora snaps, straightening as she holds her head high. Trying to play the martyr now, huh?
Awesome! My ass hasn't yet touched the throne and already I got a problem. And of course it's Anora. She just doesn't know when to stop. Maker! This woman is a pain in the neck.
"Anora, you kept telling everybody and their dog how much you care about this nation," Rori groans, equally unnerved. "Now walk it like you talk it, for pity's sake!"
"We cannot leave Ferelden in a state of civil war," Eamon reasons. "We must have unity. If she will not swear fealty to you, Alistair, and renounce her claim to the throne, she is a threat to us all."
And spotlight on Alistair!
Doom!
DOOM!
Maker's Breath, what does he expect me to do? Kill her? She would still haunt me when dead. Unlike her father she hasn't committed any crimes I could prove to justify her death. And do I want to be that kind of king who kills a woman to secure his own power? Is this the only and best solution for Ferelden?
I mean, we still have the archdemon breathing down our necks, yes? And I will be in the forefront when it finally pokes its ugly head out of its hiding place...
"Put her in the tower for now," I say grimly. "If I fall against the Blight she can have her throne. If not, then we'll see."
A few days in Fort Drakon should help her to reconsider and - hopefully - change her mind.
"You would give me a chance for the throne after all this?" Anora gasps in surprise, finally giving up her martyr performance.
"I said, if I fall, Anora," I correct her before she can get any strange ideas. "If I fall the throne falls to you. I won't kill you while there's a chance that could happen. Somebody has to treat this Blight seriously." And it really is a joke that this somebody is awkward foolish Alistair.
"That is uncharacteristically wise of you," Anora says slowly after a moment of stunned silence. Rori right next to her bounces up and down, beaming from ear to ear with blatant pride. Then she nudges Anora, going: "Told you so!"
"Yes, well, don't let it get around," I mutter gruffly. "I have a reputation."
When Anora is lead away by the guards she turns to cast one last glance at me over her shoulder. It's none of her icy glares but a puzzled look crowned by a thoughtful frown.
Next I get a first impression of what it means to be king.
I hold my first speech and despite the feeling of looming doom get through it without my tongue tumbling over the words that spill out of my mouth. I hardly realize what I say but it can't be totally wrong as everybody cheers and Eamon wears that utterly surprised look of a man who bought a pig in a poke and against all odds finds it's a truffle pig.
Seems I'm seriously compromising my own reputation. Blast! And I worked so hard for years and years to acquire it!
Then the nobles come forward, testing their waters with their new monarch. The most important question is not: How are you going to defeat the archdemon, your Highness? Nope. It is: What are you planning to do with Gwaren, your Highness?
Andraste's flaming sword! How about we wait who survives the blasted Blight and then decide who becomes teyrn?
After I get rid of them, there's Eamon chewing my ears off about the heir I don't have and won't have thanks to Rori.
Hello!? Blight? Archdemon? First things first, please!
I'd also very much appreciate if I finally could talk to my future wife and find out what the Fade came over her! I expected a whole lot of things to happen. An engagement wasn't on my list, though.
Rori sits on our bed. Knees pressed together, she rubs her hands nervously on her thighs, watching me carefully with wide round eyes. "Hey," she greets me meekly, offering a shy smile. There's nothing much left of her kick-ass-attitude now.
"So, strange story," I say, coming to a halt right in front of her, arms crossed in front of my chest. "Tell me if you heard this one: This fellow is made king and then gets engaged all at the same night."
"You aren't angry, are you?" Rori asks timidly. "I... I didn't know what to do... I... I rather would have dropped it all on Anora but that expression on her face... I've seen it before when we crowned Behlen. And we both know what happened to Harrowmont..."
"Yeah, poor old Harry," I mutter. Behlen didn't waste any time with his opponent's execution. It was the very first order he gave after his coronation. "Hey, wait! You didn't want to make me king? I was second choice after Anora!?"
"I didn't want to lose you!" Rori exclaims desperatedly. "But... when I realized Anora would have killed you, I had to make you king...please don't be angry!"
"I'm actually fine with becoming king," I hear myself admit. Now there's no turning back, I feel strangely at peace with my new situation. "I've had some time to come to terms with that." It's mostly Rori's influence. She always believed in me and gave me confidence. She taught me to stand up for myself more often and trust my own judgement. Anora made it easier, too. As long as I still believed her to be a good and wise queen, I would have never thought I could in any way be a better choice. Once I got to know her... Hey, I can hardly be much worse, can I? I don't say it comes easily now. I am still scared out of my mind when I think about all the responsibility... but I also see the possibilities to make a change... "I suppose there's some good I could even do."
"Okay...," Rori mumbles, kneading her fingers. "So that's the king thing..."
"Well, yes, I suppose I'm more curious about... you know, the engagement." That really hit me like a hammer.
"Sorry!" Rori blurts out, stumbling over her own words. "I know I should have asked you... at least given you a warning... but... I didn't plan this, you know... I wanted us to stay Grey Wardens and... be together... when that didn't work... it was the only way I could think of that wouldn't tear us apart..."
She wrings her hands, looking so utterly devastated that being annoyed with her becomes absolutely impossible. I was more stunned by her declaration anyway, maybe a bit huffed that she took that decision away from me - at least it made it much easier for me to tell Eamon to kiss my royal butt when he demanded I shoud dump Rori anyway.
"Rori! Rori!" I kneel down and take her hands in mine to calm her down. "Hey, don't cry! I'm not angry. I... I like the idea but... are you sure?"
"Am I sure I want to marry you?" Rori wipes her snotty nose at her sleeve. She's still rather meek but there is no hesitation in her voice when she answers: "Yes! Yes, of course I am sure! I love you."
"Ah, I guess, that saves me having to ask then." I chuckle, handing my handkerchief to her. "Whew!" Pause. "They'll expect an heir, but you already know, don't you? And with the taint in our blood... for two Grey Wardens having an heir might not be possible."
Rori nods, hanging her head. She at least has the decency to be ashamed. She's aware of what she has done, of how her utterly selfish decision can endanger the future of Ferelden. It's a decision I would have never made... not when securing the succession to the throne is essential to prevent another civil war ripping my kingdom appart... Oh! Whoa! Having strange kingly thoughts already.
"Well, it won't be for the lack of trying!" Rori mutters sullenly, pouting as she straightens to provokingly lock eyes with me.
"That's an excellent point. Good thing we got started when we did, hm?" I laugh and finally earn myself a timid and rather sheepish smile before she casts her eyes down again and hides behind a curtain of unruly red curls.
"You once said we do what is right no matter the cost," Rori mutters sadly, staring down at my hands holding hers so small and cold. "You would have done what I couldn't... didn't want to do and broken my and your heart for the sake of this nation..."
"Rori, I..."
"... because you are a true king," she whispers hoarsely.
Err... o-okay... And all that despite me keeping Eamon's plans a secret? True king? Hardly. More like spineless coward. I never found the courage to tell her the truth, hoping the problem would solve itself. Instead Rori solved it Rori-like. Maker! I feel like a complete jerk!
I tenderly caress the side of her face, gently lifting her chin to make her meet my eyes. Hers are red, puffy and bleared by tears. She snuffles, wipes her nose at her sleeve, her expression caught in between frowardness and ruefulness.
There she is in all her glorious imperfection. She is as stubborn as a mule, ruthlessly selfish, shockingly blunt and defiant... and - Maker's Breath! - I love her! Being near her ignites a warmth in my heart that makes me feel like floating in a huge bouncy bubble of foolish happiness.
Instead of an answer, I lean forward to gently kiss her. Maker! I should have done this ages ago! Like the very moment when she announced our engagement and made a dream come true I didn't dare to dream. It's so overwhelming, I still can't believe it's going to happen... Well, we better finish the archdemon first. Corrupted dragons are terrible wedding crasher...
With a sigh of relief Rori pounces me, melts into the kiss as she wraps her arms around my neck and presses against me with passionate urgency. Her nimble fingers unfasten my armour while mine pull at the ties of her blouse. Impatiently I just rip it open when Rori tosses the metal pieces of my armour aside unceremonously. My pants land in the cold fireplace, my smallclothes get caught in the chandelier, her boots almost knock over the lantern on the bedside table...
This is the first time we make love to each other ever since Fort Drakon. Once we are both starkers, rolling around on the carpet, Rori wavers between her usual boldness and an intimidated abashment, mirroring her confusion and insecurity.
Awkward.
And then she suddenly shrugs out of my embrace and crawls away backwards, and I feel I mustn't let her go or I will lose her. Too much went wrong between us lately, tearing open a gap that becomes wider with every passing day. The unexpected engagement didn't make things better, quite the contrary. Maker! It was all playful and carefree, a sanctuary we built for ourselves while everything around us fell apart. "Rori! Stay!" I reach out for her but all I can get hold off is her big toe. So I sit there, looking foolish as I hold on to her toe as if my life depended on it. And she sits there, staring at me wide eyed... and then she wiggles her toes and I really don't know what gets into me but it's all so silly that I can't help grinning... and she frowns in return, not like she's annoyed but as if she wonders what I'm up to next and before I can even think about it, I go:
"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,
Catch a ginger by her toe.
If she squeals, don't let her go,
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe."
And oh how she squeals! And she kicks me right in the face so hard I collapse backwards on the carpet. Serves me right for tickling her! The next fifteen minutes I spend with a moist cloth pressed to my bleeding nose, squeezing it testingly to figure out if it's broken, and my still giggling ginger fussing over me. Though my nose is quite swollen, the only thing broken is the tension between us. And once the bleeding has stopped I find myself lying in bed with my beautiful woman riding me. Maker! She has a way to make up for almost knocking me out...
Leaning forward she captures my lips for a teasingly light kiss until I entangle my fingers with her hair and urge her to part her lips for me. She rocks her hips in a slow rhythm while we kiss with passionate tenderness. When she breaks the kiss, she straightens, pulling me to a sitting position as well. Merciful Andraste... there's not many things Zevran and I agree upon, but a woman's bosom for sure is there to be worshipped... especially if it's as beautiful as Rori's...
Her arms wrap around my neck, mine around her waist as she slowly rocks her hips against mine. I watch her beautiful face, her dark eyes hazy with lust and love. Her lips slightly parted, she moans softly as I move inside of her, her tight velvet heat clenching around me. Oh merciful Andraste!
It's been a week and with all the drama I haven't realized until now how much I missed making love to her. Those moments when nothing else matters but Rori and I, when our bodies unite and there's blissful oblivion... I couldn't even spell my name correctly that very moment! Maker, I don't even remember I have a name... Thankfully Rori usually reminds me of it at the peak of her own pleasure...
"Alistair!" Gasping my name she collapses on top of me, her breathing ragged, her bosom heaving against my chest. Grinning stupidly, I nuzzle her neck as I wrap my arms around her. I could drift off to sleep now happily and with all my worries and sorrows forgotten for the moment. But Rori rolls off me, rising her legs over her head while she pulls the pillow from under my head, then stuffs it under her up-lifted hindquarters.
"What in the name of the Maker are you doing?" I laugh.
"Getting pregnant," she explains, her face as bright red as a tomato from the uncomfortable position.
"Have you been talking to Zevran again?"
"Not about this... That's what Nan kept telling Oriana to do. So that all the... uhm... slimy stuff... you know, flows into the womb... I think... kinda... Someone always clapped their hands over my ears when Nan offered advice on that matter."
I doubt some gymnastic exercises will make a difference. What we need is magic. Or a miracle. Probably both. "I suppose that's something we only have to deal with later," I yawn. "My coronation isn't going to happen for some time yet. And we still got the darkspawn to fight. Arl Eamon has left for Redcliffe." And he said not to dawdle but to follow him as soon as possible. Actually I walked into our bedroom with the very intention to talk to Rori and then walk straight out of that room again - without any delay - and depart for Redcliffe... Now, that worked out just the way I planned, huh? "He says the armies have almost finished gathering there."
There's different strategies to think about... How to defend Redcliffe? How to evacuate the people? The treasury is almost empty. I have no blasted idea how to pay the soldiers. Eamon says this will be a problem we will soon have to deal with.
All this is so overwhelming and when I talked to Eamon about it, it was all weighing me down. Here, lying in bed starkers and with Rori balancing her naked ass high up in the air, it is pretty hard to concentrate on anything but the image of me shoving her legs over her head and mounting her.
"We should go to Redcliffe as soon as possible," I add lamely, ogling Rori's hindquarters and the pink slit of her womanhood, glistening moistly... Blast it! Somebody has to treat this Blight seriously, right? So, concentration, Alistair! Every hour can be essential now. Riordan claims the archdemon has left its underground lair. He expects it to reach Redcliffe any time now.
"A few more hours won't hurt," Rori grins and wiggles her ass. I try with a scolding frown but can't help grinning, happy that she's back to being Rori to a T. "Think about Ferelden's future!"
"I am thinking about Ferelden's future! If we don't deal with the archdemon soon, it will get cranky. Nobody wants that."
"Alistair! If you don't deal with me soon, I will get cranky," Rori pouts. Next her pillow hits me straight in the face. "Nobody wants that. Least of all you!"
"Ow! My nose! Please be gentle with my royal organ..." I complain and slap her still nicely presented buttocks in return. Rori mews lowly in reply, licking her lips. Oh, that upwards glance she shoots me!
"Oh, believe me, your Highness, I will be very gentle," she purrs. Circling her hand around my shaft, she tugs teasingly.
"Business before pleasure," I say sternly - okay, I guess, that huge wide grin plastered across my face kinda destroys the impression. No wonder Rori just snorts, staring pointedly at my rather prominent erection.
"Oh well, I suppose a king gotta do what a king gotta do!" I sigh as I position myself between her legs, running my hands up and down her thighs. She rests them on my shoulders when I pull her against me. "For Ferelden!"
"For king and country!" Rori giggles.
I never liked how Alistair just marches in after the Landsmeet, has this very short conversation with his soon-to-be wife and then just leaves without even kissing her. That's just not an appropriate reaction to the woman he is in love with. Just my humble opinion.
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