(Most goes to Bioware, cept Rose =])
"That's hardly fair," King Alistair Theirin said coldly to his uncle. Arl Teagan [ formally Bann] flinched only slightly at his usually cheerful nephew. It had taken months for Teagan to get the nerve to bring up the topic.
"It has been five years Alistair," he repeated, finding strength through his thoughts of Fereldan's still sensitive political system.
"It's not her fault anymore then it is mine," Alistair snapped, but flushed with embarrassment. " I know you just want what you think is best uncle, but I am sure that it wont matter who I am with," he sighed.
"You don't know that," Teagan replied.
"Don't I? You don't know all my moves anymore then Eamon does. I have kept scouts out, hired spies. I have yet to find a Grey Warden capable of having children," Alistair's temper flared again.
"Then I cannot fight for my cause any longer." Teagan paused and looked back at the King. " I wasn't aware you held any feeling for Anora…"
"I don't, not at all," Alistair replied, blushing. He almost hated her, almost. "She is good at it, being Queen."
"But she would see reason! Anora knows better then anyone how important an heir is to Fereldan's future!" Teagan exclaimed, feeling trapped.
"Then you should be bringing this up with her no?" Alistair frowned.
"No need Alistair. I heard that perfectly well," Anora appeared, looking particularly mellow. Alistair gulped noisily, making a surprised noise. "No need to sugarcoat anything Teagan. I've known, and even shared your fears."
"And your highness? What have you thought of?" Teagan asked, realizing his precarious situation.
" I think…you are right. I don't believe it was Cailan or Alistair's fault," she held her chin up, defiantly. Her eyes dared them to agree.
" How can we…rectify this then?" Teagan asked, delicately.
"I will leave, with royalties of course, and free Alistair to marry," Anora replied, her voice never reflecting the pain of releasing her throne.
"Are you…sure?" Alistair asked. He didn't know whether to be excited or frustrated. She looked at him with cold eyes.
"Yes. We shared no love, and I know you still pine for the Hero," she said bluntly, causing his to physically jerk. "My only request is.." her voice softened. "Alistair marry someone he loves, no arranged marriage- Teagan" her eyes snapped to him sharply.
"if that is what it takes," he replied.
"And what about me? I'm King,' Alistair pointed out. " Frankly, I have maybe twenty years, at most. I don't have time to fall in love."
"For Fereldan, you better pray the maker sends you someone," Anora said in her steely voice, turning on her heels and leaving.
"I will have to tell Eamon right away," Teagan told the King.
"I need…time alone" Alistair took his crown off and set it down, leaving his uncle to run to his room.
…...
"Fall in love again?" Alistair punched the armoir in the coner. He immediately regretted it and cursed vehemently while he nursed his bruised knuckles. He fell onto his bed and stared at the canopy of his bed. His mind wandered to a light haired beauty, with big green eyes and a soft face. Ana Cousland had been the love of his life, and her sacrifice did nothing to quell the love in his heart. He closed his eyes as his heart thrummed violently.
They were at camp and he had bumbled around, messing the long practiced words. 'I want to spend the night with you' he told her.
'I thought you'd never ask' she smiled, blushing. They kissed, friction immediately turning his knees to jelly. They stumbled to his tent, lips covering the available skin on the face. Ana bit his lip as they fell down to his bed. Neither of them had ever done this sort of thing, so foreplay was merely kissing and touching. His hands roamed her body, clothes falling off in haste. When she was down to her small clothes she squirmed, embarrassed, but Maker was she beautiful. She wasn't some tiny courtesan, but a athletic woman of considerable curves and muscle. Her skin was pale, like a lady, but small insignificant scars ran along her stomach and up her shoulders and down her legs. He kissed them all, causing her to moan and shiver.
'Off with the armor' she hissed, assisting him in the removal of his clothes. He leaned over her, kissing her roughly when she lifted her hips to collide with his, rubbing both of their sensitive parts together.
'Maker…Ana' he groaned. She reached down and stroked him through his small clothes. He hissed and nipped at her nipples, and taking the small clothes off of them both. Her back arched as he sucked her nippled.
'Al-i-stair!" she cried raking her fingers up his back and pulling his face up for a kiss, spreading her legs and making contact. Her wet folds sent shocks through his member. He sat back, positioning himself, aware of how painful and pleasurable what they were about to do would be. She looked him in the eyes and smiled, her love for him causing his heart, and erection, to tense. He pressed inside her, slowly, and the jerked. He couldn't remember, but somewhere he had heard that it was better to just…do it. Ana cried in pain, her walls fluxing around him almost to tight. It was a few moments before Ana kissed him and started to rock her hips against him. He was able to starting moving, in, out, faster. She tried her hardest to make full contact, pressing her hips up to meet his every thrust. Ana reached climax first, practically screaming into his shoulder, trying to stifle it- unsuccessfully. Alistair, so caught up in passion, felt her walls contract one final time and let his seed go. They caught each other in a large embrace and fell down, worn.
King Alistair, shaken out of his memory, realized that in reaction to the pleasure he remembered, he now had an erection. He groaned, feeling dirty, yet impossibly aroused. He took a deep breath and concentrated on one thought- 'Ana is DEAD.' That did the trick. He stood up, painfully, and decided to get back to being the ruler of a country. Newly single, he reminded himself. It made things only marginally better.
…...
Three months later a parade of wealthy, available, woman from across Fereldan and even in the Free Marches, went through the throne room- hoping to impress the King. Unluckily for one person in particular, it caused a lot of problems. That was Rose Bryland, causin to Habren Bryland, daughter of Lady Jewel Bryland [ who died at childbirth and left her daughter under the care of her brother Arl Bryland.] Rose, unlike her cousin, was no eager to be apart of the parade. Even though she grew up with lands in her name and a title awaiting her future marriage, she was not under any circumstances a Lady. While Habren was trained in sewing and dancing, Rose snuck away to disguise herself as a page. She would spend hours training- pretending to be a boy. As she grew older this was discovered but many of the Knights of South Reach played along. She was talented, and stubborn.
"You smell like a boy,' Habren scrunched her nose. Now, at age 20, both girls were preparing for their own turn to please the King.
"They tried to stick perfume in my tub, but I think I scared the maid away," Rose replied nonchalantly. Habren tried - unsuccessfully- to brush her cousins wild black mane.
"Well you certainly aren't going to impress anyone smelling like leather and rust!" Habren gave up. Rose reached back and put it all back into a very, very messy bun.
"Giving up already?" Rose smirked.
"Not yet, lets get dressed and I'll put some face paint on you," was the cruel reply. Rose helped Habren, a elegantly shaped girl, into a fine red and white dress. Habren was pretty, blonde, tall and elegant, an impressive person in court. When it was Rose's turn to dress, it was a very disappointing effect. The gown was blue, of all colors, and awkwardly placed on Rose's shorter, boyish frame.
"I'm NOT wearing this!" Rose exclaimed struggling to take it off.
"Then what do you propose to wear?" Habren asked stiffly. She couldn't argue- it looked horrid. "Not your armor or leather-" she added. Rose plopped down on the cushion, in her small clothes. Habren suddenly had an idea. She searched her things and found a chemise and slip. "Get some nice pants and your best looking boots- not metal." Rose went to her own things and found them. The pants were more like under leggings, everything else she owned was worn. The end result resembled a close fitting tunic over leggings and polished black boots.
"I look lie a Pirate," Rose stated, not displeased. It made her look like a girl without the constraints of a dress. Habren forced her cousin to go through the process of applying face paint- charcoal on her eyes, rouge on her lips and cheeks.
"It will have to do," Habren sighed. "At least you wont completely embarrass me."
"Right, wouldn't want that. Do I HAVE to go in front of the King?" Rose asked.
"Just a short appearance, a curtsey- er bow- and off you go. Father expects it" was the snippy reply.
"What do I care what uncle wants?" Rose asked heatedly, leaving her cousin to finish her down preparations.
…
( I know having a PC is kinda silly, but I thought it was interesting...more smut coming up!)