There and Bac Again

Chapter One Hundred Sixty-One: *Good Things Come...

I left Faren's room with a plan to drag my husband straight back to our room -- and pick up where we'd left off when we'd been caught having make-up sex.

I don't like fighting with my husband, but the make-up sex has been, historically, spectacular, I have to admit.

Sadly, my plans weren't meant to be.

First, I was dragged to my office to meet with Avanna. As I was pulled reluctantly away, I looked back at Alistair with an expression he seemed to rightly interpret as a promise -- his eyes darkened, and I almost thought I'd gotten out of my stupid meeting, but he released my hand and winked before turning to walk away.

I could have cried.

I was scolded by Avanna for wandering the fortress at night, even with a guard -- though she didn't seem to have any idea what said guard had interrupted, thank the Maker -- and then we sat for a bit and planned out the details of the guard schedules and recruitment for both Alistair's and my personal guards. There were to be two soldiers from the regular guard on the door to our suite at all times, and one of our personal guards shadowing each of us. They would do eight-hour shifts, which meant we needed at least ten guards between us if we wanted them to have time to train and for days off. The ten would work together when we were on the road.

I currently had three guards and Alistair two; we needed to recruit, and soon -- before any of us were required to travel. Avanna planned to ask for volunteers from our soldiers, but knew that she would probably need to go to Highever or even Denerim to get the right candidates. I reluctantly agreed that I should attempt to have female guards in case they needed to accompany me to the privy or while changing; for the same reasons, Alistair's guards would ideally be male. Mine would be harder to find -- there were only a handful of female soldiers at the Peak. She agreed to recruit as many as possible as soon as possible, and then travel immediately once the numbers were known to find people to fill the other positions.

She was just leaving when Mhairi arrived, requesting the same sort of planning for our regular guard. I approved her contacting Kylon, now the captain of Denerim's Guard, as well as the people Cailan had leading the army, to see about recruiting more soldiers; we also drafted a letter to send to the Alienages in most of the major cities, as well as to Queen Sereda and Keeper Lanaya. I had insisted that we consider all applicants, regardless of race, and no one had yet challenged me on it.

When I was finishing up with Mhairi, Levi arrived with another stack of paperwork and a suggestion to recruit a Mother for the little chapel he was having renovated. I agreed to write to the Grand Cleric -- and hoped that Dorothea would understand that we needed someone...flexible, in such a diverse and unusual situation

. I won't have the Chantry harassing or discriminating against our elves or dwarves -- or anyone else who isn't keen on going to services.

I had started to work on the reams of paperwork lying around my office when Loghain arrived. He stepped inside my office somewhat diffidently, saying he wanted to 'talk'.

"That doesn't sound ominous at all, Warden," I replied, and was rewarded with a brief smirk. I moved to one of the comfortable chairs near the hearth, but my smile fell as I watched the former teyrn carefully close the door to my office before sitting down.

"What can I do for you?"

He sat down and watched me silently for a moment, a frown wrinkling his brow. Finally, he broke the silence. "You don't trust me."

I sighed. "This isn't a good day to talk about this, Loghain."

"It's never a good day! You can't avoid it -- and me -- forever. Your distrust concerns me."

"Is it that surprising? I've told you why, more than once."

"But you haven't told me how you know what you do. There's more to you than meets the eye. You have secrets, my Lady, and I believe I am one of very few who don't know them. You are fortunate to have so many loyal friends -- but their efforts are unnecessary. I would not betray you -- or the Wardens."

"You'll forgive me if I don't just take your word for it, Warden."

If he's back to titles, so am I.

"It's entirely personal, I assure you."

"You refuse to tell me?" He actually looked surprised.

I laughed. "I'm surprised you're here instead of interrogating my brother or the other Wardens." His sour expression intensified, and I chuckled. "Ah, I see. You tried and no one would tell you anything."

He scowled. "Can you honestly say that your secrets won't affect the Order? Won't affect the others, never mind me? I can't protect the Order if I don't know what I'm facing."

I cocked my head curiously. "You obviously have something in mind. What is it you think I'm hiding?"

"Well, for example..." he paused, then went on more quietly, "should we be expecting templars to be looking for you? Perhaps a Circle in Rivain is missing a seer?"

I almost choked. "You...really? You've seen me fight. You think I might be a mage?"

He studied me briefly. "Not really, no, though if you were a seer it might explain a few things."

"I can assure you that isn't it. In fact, you know that I am a templar. Only partially trained, but powerful."

"Then how?" His expression was frustrated now. "How do you know those things? How am I supposed to trust you knowing the Order's secrets when you could betray us or be vulnerable to blackmail? You are an unknown risk. Surely you understand my concerns."

I stood up suddenly, offended and completely pissed off. "Unknown to

you!

You are not the Order. You are not the Commander. Those who need to know my secrets already do. You have no right to demand anything of me. I may be an 'unknown risk', but you are a known one -- and you should be grateful for my secrets because they saved you from the noose despite my personal feelings."

He stood as well, and I gestured to the door firmly. He opened his mouth to object, or make a new argument, but I interrupted him before he could start, my expression cold. "You have gone some way towards proving yourself. You helped me on the road, and I appreciate it. None of that excuses what you did, though I may consider letting you in to my confidence with time if you continue to demonstrate your loyalty to the Wardens, but I assure you that attempting to coerce me will not get you far. In fact, I suggest you not continue to ask around or threaten anyone, or my brother and husband will have to be notified of your conduct, and I doubt their response will be as civil as mine."

He grimaced with a nod, bowed stiffly to me, and finally left. I slumped down in my desk chair tiredly.

You picked the wrong day to bother me, Loghain.

I closed my eyes, putting my head down on my desk and contemplating the logistics of taking a nap at my desk without moving. That's where Alistair found me a while later, blinking sleepily at him as he crept into my office.

"Love? It's supper time. Do you want to go down with me?"

I groaned and dragged myself up, collapsing into his arms as he enveloped me in a hug. "If Aedan wasn't leaving in two days, I'd refuse. I'm tired, Alistair."

"I know, Sierra. We will make an early night of it, I promise."

I sighed and snuggled into his chest. "Not exactly the interesting evening we'd hoped for."

I could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm sure it'll keep. I have high hopes for tomorrow."

I looked up at his handsome face skeptically. "Oh?"

He tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger -- a gesture of mine he'd picked up and made adorable -- and winked.

I shook my head fondly. "Whatever you say, dear."

"Now that's an attitude I could get used to." He grinned and I giggled. "Come on, love. You need to eat too."

I could see real concern in his eyes and I winced.

He's noticed I've lost weight too.

I tucked my arm through his. "Lead on, McDuff."

Dinner was, as always, a raucous affair, and to my surprise, Faren had roped someone into helping him down the stairs to join us. He looked a little overwhelmed by the enthusiastic welcome he received, but he tolerated it gamely and needed only a little help to wolf down a Warden-sized meal of soft foods that a servant provided without even being asked. I nodded appreciatively at Levi, and he ducked his head awkwardly, clearly thinking no one would have known it was him.

We laughed and enjoyed ourselves, though I noticed the shy looks Sigrun kept shooting Faren when she thought he wasn't looking -- and the pensive, curious looks he sent back at her every time she looked away. I snickered.

Well, that's either going to be really cute -- or really, terribly horrific if it goes wrong.

Finally, it was late enough that we could escape, and Alistair and I excused ourselves to head up to our room. We endured some well-meaning teasing as we went, but Aedan took one look at my face and gave me a big hug. "Oh, sis. Tired?" I nodded into his shoulder and he squeezed me. "Have a good sleep."

And I couldn't even detect a hint of sarcasm when he said it.

I stumbled into bed, barely taking the time to strip out of my dress or pull up the covers. An equally naked Alistair curled around me and we were both asleep in moments.

I woke slowly in the morning, cold, groggy and reluctant to open my eyes. I could practically feel Alistair's gaze on my face, and I cleared my throat. "Staring is rude, you know."

There was a pause before he replied, and I cracked one squinty eye open to see what the delay was. Alistair was under the covers next to me, openly admiring my naked body as I sprawled beside him. When I snorted in amusement, he met my gaze and flushed, licking his lips and swallowing noticeably. "You can't exactly blame me." He leaned in to kiss me deeply, desperately, and I responded in kind. His hand stroked my side, and I shuddered at how warm his skin felt on mine.

"Any particular reason you're trying to give me frostbite while you hog all the blankets?" I inquired when he came up for air. It really was frigid in our room -- the fire had gone out during the night -- and my nipples had hardened in the cold, my skin covered in goose bumps, one step from shivering uncontrollably.

His hand wandered from my hip, up the plane of my stomach, to caress the underside of one breast. I curled into his warmth instinctively, and he groaned and kissed me again as he teased my nipple with the flat of his thumb. "I thought you'd appreciate the warmth even more when I provide it," he whispered, voice husky, then kissed my chilly ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth as he continued to torment my nipple.

I hummed in appreciation, the heat of his mouth and his fingers providing a confusing -- and stimulating -- contrast to the cold room. He switched breasts, warming the opposite side, and kissed his way down my neck to my collarbone, nipping and sucking as I gasped and writhed. He finally took my nipple, now cold again, into his mouth, and the heat of him nearly scorched me. I arched up off the bed, pressing my breast into his mouth, and he shifted forward to pin me down, providing me a little bit of much-needed warmth against my side. His mouth switched sides as his hand quested down, leaving a trail of goosebumps down my belly to my hairless mound. His fingers nudged gently into my wetness, and I gasped and spread my legs more, urging him on.

He kept me like that for an eternity, lavishing heat and attention on my breasts, his warm fingers just teasing at my core despite my begging for more. It was incredibly intense, leaving me craving him -- craving more -- both for the warmth he provided and for the arousal he'd built effortlessly inside me. When he shifted -- clearly planning to replace his fingers with his mouth -- I scissored my legs and pushed, capturing his hips between my thighs, leaving him hovering over me.

"No," I insisted.

"No?" he repeated, voice skeptical and amused at once.

"I want you. In me. Do it -- do it now," I insisted, angling my hips to brush my core up against his large, hot, firm length.

He groaned again and thrust back, pressing his erection along the length of my slit. "Maker," he cursed. "Are you-"

"Yes, I'm sure!" And then I moaned long and low as he filled me in one, firm motion. He felt amazing, and I found myself babbling in appreciation, urging him on, describing how big he felt, how perfect. He paused to allow me to adjust, and I nearly cried in frustration. "Alistair, please!"

He chuckled lowly, then pulled out and thrust back in, leaning down to capture my pleased gasp in his mouth. I kissed him back with abandon, urging him on with my heels and hands, levering myself as close to him as I could get, thrusting my hips to meet his, clinging to him desperately.

It was short, but satisfying and incredibly intense -- we ground together for a few frantic moments, and then I was shrieking as my orgasm hit, my grasping muscles milking him until he cried out and spilled inside me.

He stayed put for a minute the way I liked, while I panted and shivered, finally gripping me with one arm and rolling both of us. I ended up sprawled bonelessly across his chest, his length still inside me -- and miraculously still hard. I moaned and rotated my hips, drawing a surprised gasp from his mouth. Without even leaning back, my cheek still resting on his sweaty chest, I reached up and braced my hands on the headboard, and began shoving myself down to grind us together again and again. His hands on my hips helped, urging me on. It was slower, more tender now that the initial desperate need had been sated, and we took our time sliding together as his hands explored my body and I pressed soft kisses to his chest.

When my orgasm hit, it was even more intense -- slow but earth-shattering, rolling over me inexorably like a tidal wave, leaving me gasping and shuddering in his arms.

I fell asleep then, curled comfortably atop him, pleasantly exhausted and sated.

When I woke, I was alone in bed -- but the fire had been tended, and the room was warm. The soft click of our bedroom door drew my attention to my husband, creeping inside with a covered tray. He was dressed, but simply, in just cotton trousers and a tunic. When he saw me watching him, he smiled, stripping efficiently before climbing carefully onto the bed, tray in hand. And then he lifted the lid, showing me the contents of the tray -- somehow, somewhere he'd found pancakes, covered in powdered sugar, with a bottle of real, honest-to-God maple syrup.

"If I didn't already love you, I would after this," I declared, and he grinned at me, eyes sparkling. I sat up and shifted to lean up against the headboard so I could eat, but he grabbed one leg and tugged me back down a bit, slapping my hand away when I reached for a fork.

"Or is this torture? Show me the pancakes but don't let me eat any? Please, ser, take pity on this poor hungry soul."

He snorted. "Melodrama much?" I snickered as he lifted the fork and used the edge to cut a piece of pancake before stabbing it and dragging it through a small pool of syrup. He waved the fork at me with a smirk. "Open up."

I stared at him, incredulous, but when I went to object, he quickly popped the piece in to my open mouth, chuckling as I growled. "Relax," he suggested. "Just let me, okay?"

I raised my eyebrow at his mischievous tone, but opened my mouth when he indicated and let him feed me more of the pancakes. They were heavenly; I hadn't had anything really sweet since coming to Thedas, and it felt like the most luxurious thing in the world, to lay in bed and be handfed my sugary breakfast. I had taken a few more bites, when he finally, accidentally dripped syrup on my shoulder.

Before I could even react, he leaned in, quick like a cat, and licked the droplet off my skin. I sputtered, but he just continued, licking and sucking until he had removed every last trace. When he offered me the next bite, he smeared a bit of syrup onto the corner of my mouth. He licked it away again, and then he captured my lips softly. I could taste the sweetness of the syrup blending with the intoxicating taste that was all Alistair, and I forgot entirely about the pancakes as we kissed for an eternity.

I finished two enormous pancakes that way, alternately eating and moaning as he licked and sucked the evidence of his poor aim off my chest, neck, and chin. It became clear my breakfast was over when he carefully, intently poured a dribble of syrup -- straight from the bottle! -- onto my nearest nipple, and then took his time cleaning it up while I gasped and stroked my fingers through his hair in encouragement.

And then he ate the most erotic breakfast ever, taking a bite of dry pancake and then seasoning it with syrup licked off my body. All I could do was lay and writhe as he tormented me with the soft rasp of his tongue, the gentle prickle of his short stubble, and the delicious pressure of his lips suckling my skin. And he took his time, drawing it out, taking extra care to get every trace of syrup, using fastidiousness as an excuse. He sucked syrup off of my collar bones and my abs, chased it as it ran in rivulets down the sides of my breasts, and lapped it out of the indent of my belly button. We didn't really talk, me because I was too mesmerized by watching him, him because his mouth was otherwise occupied.

I was too aroused to be embarrassed when he abandoned the pancakes altogether to focus on me and the syrup. I'd collapsed into a limp puddle of want, capable only of groaning and arching as I begged him wordlessly -- for more, for completion. I could feel only relief when I felt the warm syrup trickle down between my thighs, and I didn't hesitate when Alistair nudged my legs apart and settled himself between them.

He proceeded to drive me mad, using his tongue to delve through my folds, hunting the sticky sweetness, providing stimulation and pleasure but not enough

pressure

. He countered every frustrated buck of my hips, keeping his touch light and teasing until I was near tears with the sheer overwhelming need wracking me. I cried out when I finally felt two thick fingers plunge into me, curling forward just so -- and then he latched onto my pearl with his lips, driving me relentlessly over the edge while I sobbed in ecstasy.

When I finally came down from my high, it was to the sight of Alistair kneeling between my knees, his gaze roving over me as he stroked himself almost violently, his expression one of sheer desperation. As gorgeous as he was, and as fascinating to watch, I wasn't about to lie passively when I could be involved. I contemplated my options for a brief moment before just spreading my legs further and opening my arms in welcome. He sank down over me, his lips finding mine as he sheathed himself unerringly inside me. I shuddered, hypersensitive from my recent orgasm, then purposefully squeezed my muscles along his length -- with a few sharp thrusts he came, and I swallowed his cries as he clutched me to him possessively.

When we'd both recovered, I discovered that Alistair had run us a bath before he'd gone to fetch our breakfast, and I sank gratefully into the warm water, allowing it to soothe my muscles and rid me of the last of my stickiness. Alistair slid into the tub behind me, and the two of us lazed there for a few minutes.

"So," I started, breaking the comfortable silence, "not that I object, obviously, but I assume I have Zevran to thank for that?"

He scoffed as though offended. "No!" he denied. He paused, and I didn't have to turn to look to know he was blushing. "Anders," he admitted in a tiny voice, and I giggled. "A long time ago. Orzammar, maybe. That was his suggestion for our engagement...uh, celebration."