I own Lucas all else to Bioware and EA
A/N...
Ok, so, Anora and M!Cousland is probably my favorite of all the Dragon Age parings and it's a bloody shame that there aren't more stories with the the two of them.
Warning: Blushing, Blown kiss, and sparring
'I should really get back to work,' Anora thinks to herself as she gazes out the window. It's a beautiful sunny day in Denerim and she is locked up in the stuffy palace buried under a mountain of paperwork. Sighing, she stands and makes her way over to the window, flinging it open. A gentle breeze wafts into the room, rustling the papers on the wooden desk. Settling herself on the window ledge, Anora closes her eyes and breathes in the coolness of the air. Opening her eyes, she sees that it is autumn and the reconstruction of Denerim continues on tract, especially now that Lucas is his old self again.
He is a master on the field and a hero to the people. He inspires them by just being around them; he truly cares for the people. 'Lucas Cousland is certainly no Cailan Therin,' Anora thinks to herself ruefully. Where Cailan would think only of the glory, Lucas thinks of the people. Anora could not count the number of times where she had to drag him to bed, because he would still be up working out the trade agreements and the harvest numbers. They knew it was going to be a hard winter, but he wanted to know how hard of a winter it would be.
Lucas is mature; he is a man, while Cailan was a boy. While both are handsome, Cailan had more of that boyish charm that got him into plenty of trouble. Lucas, on the other hand, exuded such a rugged charm. Now, Anora is not like any woman. She is the Queen of Ferelden. She has commanded a nation while Cailan 'played at war' as her father put it. She does not swoon. She does not get all hot and bothered over a man. But, when she walked into Arl Eamon's Estate and saw Lucas shirtless—Oh Maker did she swoon!
Thinking about her husbands' body causes a blush to creep up onto her face, darkening her fair features. On her wedding night with Cailan, he just did the deed and rolled over to sleep, leaving her dissatisfied. But on her wedding night with Lucas, they made sweet, tender love until dawn, having her climax many, many times. Maker's Balls, they christened every room in the Palace—even in the gardens under the light of a pale moon. Erlina told her the rumors about the Grey Warden's stamina; she can delightfully say that they are true.
And yet, she is without child. Lucas had mentioned this would be a problem. She was not barren—thank the Maker—he would just have a hard time producing an heir, because of the taint in his body. After that incident with the nightmares, Lucas had told her all of the Grey Warden's secrets. Of how he had to drink Darkspawn blood, of the nightmares, of his reduced chance to produce a child, of his impending death thirty years hence, and it had been a lot for her to take in. Eventually, she resolved not to take advantage of each day and to try to make the most it.
Sounds from below interrupted her reverie. Casting her eyes down, she spots Lucas clad in his golden and sliver armour. He has brought of a massive wooden shield in a defensive pose and a wooden practice sword cast horizontally, the pointed tip pointed at one of the guardsmen. Lucas would always spar with the guards, teaching them new techniques and keeping them in shape. Anora would always watch the sparring matches with wide eyes. Lucas is a force of nature on the field, moving quickly and gracefully, even in his massive armour.
Lucas and the guardsman stalk each other, circling. The guard hefts his wooden great sword, watching. After several moments of circling, the guard strikes, swinging his sword with both hands. Lucas smirks and brings his shield up to block the blow. When the wooden great sword connects, Lucas pushes back, bashing into the guard and knocking him off balance. He then lowers his shield and sweeps his sword out, knocking the great sword from the hands of the guard. Panting and now defenseless, the guard yields to Lucas.
Anora lets out a breath she had been holding while she watched the spar in silence. When the guard yielded to Lucas, she let out a cheer, forgetting her status and getting caught up in the moment. The guards and Lucas turn their attention towards their Queen as Anora's face turns beet red in embarrassment. Her eyes find Lucas's who stares back lovingly at her, a quirky smirk on his face. He drops his sword and brings his right hand to his lips, kissing it and pulling back as he blows a kiss to her. Her eyes soften and she smiles tenderly at him, before backing away from the window.
Out of the corner of Lucas's eye, he saw the guards smiling happily at the display of emotion between their monarchs. When he turns towards them, they stop smiling and quickly look away, to which Lucas chuckles. "The Darkspawn are better at hiding their emotions than you lot," he says not unkindly. When he is greeted with a hail of murmurs and apologies, he chuckles and waves his hand. "I think that's enough sparing for one day. Drop off your swords and get back to your posts. Oh, and Gavin," Lucas says turning and pointing to the guard with the great sword as the other guards head towards the barracks. "Good swing, but you were too focused on the attack. If you put less power behind the swing, you would have seen the bash coming; but, overall, good job."