"Oh, of course I'll agree to sleep with Morrigan, it's not as though the both of you have dreamt this up as some embarrassing plot if I say yes." Alistair's voice was absolutely saturated with sarcasm, and he had that sulky look she hadn't seen since she'd banned him from cooking.

Rolling her eyes with an annoyed sigh, Shara crossed her arms in front of her. "Alistair, I'll be honest – I find you obnoxiously good and you really do grate on my nerves with your insistence on helping every bloody person we come across," Alistair let out a snort before she continued, "but I don't hate you, and I do respect you as a fighter and fellow Warden." When that too-familiar obstinance didn't disappear from his expression, Shara bit back another sigh. "I realize what I'm asking may seem selfish, but here's the thing: I made you king, and I intend for you to stay king. However much you may think otherwise, I'm not quite so self-serving as to let my adopted home come under the rule of anyone remotely related to Loghain. And my intentions of you living do not include dying myself."

Shaking his head, Alistair turned from her, foot tapping in an irritably uneven rhythm on the floor. "I love that you're just so confident you're going to live through this regardless. Really, Shara, a little humility never killed anyone."

Resisting the urge to show him exactly who was the more skilled between them, Shara rocked back on her heels in an attempt to calm herself. "Alistair, we've tramped across Ferelden with a bounty on our heads, gone further in the Deep Roads than anyone has gone in years, and we did it with fewer than a dozen people. We'll have over a thousand men at our backs this time, so yes, I actually do expect to live, and I'm not going to have that plan ruined by getting my soul destroyed." You whiny little bastard. The usual coolness between her and Alistair had warmed since the Landsmeet, but he was quickly spending any goodwill he'd saved up.

Scrubbing a hand through his short blonde hair, Alistair turned to face her again, expression that of a man condemned to die. "Do you trust her? With this?"

Shara held Alistair's gaze a few moments, turning the question over in her mind. Since their first meeting, Morrigan and Shara had gotten along well, despite the few well-directed jabs at Tower mages. Shara had never really been close to women – she enjoyed their company, in bed and out, but for as long as she could remember, she had gravitated towards men. Morrigan had called her sister once, and even Shara had to admit the relationship she had with the other woman greatly reminded her of what she could remember of her sister. Close in age, they'd spent a childhood sharing toys and dress, and both of them had cried the day she'd left for Ferelden. It was a strange feeling, if comforting.

Fixing Alistair's hazel eyes with a gaze of her own, she nodded once. "I trust her with everything, Alistair. Morrigan is not like her mother."

With those words, the almost-Templar's shoulders slumped, and a deep sigh filled the room. "I'll do it."

Eyes widening, Shara felt her back straighten. "You will?" There was an eagerness to her voice she had been unable to disguise.

"You don't have to look so happy about it. Sleeping with a woman I hate to save a woman who doesn't like me all that much isn't exactly what I had in mind for my first... experience." Alistair turned a bright shade of red at the last, and Shara felt the slightest bit sorry for him.

Crossing the room, Shara hugged Alistair – a decidedly strange sensation – and kissed his cheek. "Oh, I guess you're alright when you're not all self-righteous and mopey." Releasing him from the awkward embrace, Shara looked him up and down. "Though, come to think of it... I could offer advice, if you wish. It doesn't have to be horrible."

The blush spread to Alistair's ears and his shoulders hunched as if a cold wind had suddenly run through him. "Shara, you... well, you're not exactly a man. What advice could you give me?"

Grinning, Shara raised one eyebrow. "Tell me, have you ever pleasured yourself?"

Blinking rapidly, Alistair emitted a small choking sound. "Have I ever what?"

Barely keeping in the laugh, Shara tried to appear helpful. "You know, taken a hand, grabbed the old-"

"I know what it's called." The red was beginning to take on a purple tinge, and Shara almost felt sorry for the man. "Why in the name of Andraste do you need to know?"

Coughing to suppress a bit of escaped laughter, Shara straightened her skirts. "If you don't know what to expect from it in general, then you are more innocent than I expected."

Alistair sputtered for a few moments before raising a hand to hide his face. "Yes. I have. Now, if we could go before I die of shame?"

Ignoring his plea, Shara let out a delighted murmur. "Good! As for advice, you've only been with yourself, and I've been with, well..." Shara thought a moment before waving her hand. "I can't really remember, but more than you. Now, when you're inside a woman-" Alistair moved both hands to cover his ears and started humming something that was entirely unrecognizable. "Your body will want to finish quickly." The humming grew louder and Alistair sunk to his knees, hunching over them as if expecting a blow. "If you think of something else, something that does not arouse you-"

"Maker, Shara, please stop." The plea was a whimper, but she was so very close to being done, she had to finish.

"Then you'll last longer and get more pleasure. As will she." At Alistair's pained groan, Shara let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm done, Alistair. Andraste's ass, you're acting like a child."

He raised his face to look at her, the skin decidedly more purple than red, and gaped at her a few moments. "And you're acting as though you have no common decency!"

Finally allowing herself to laugh, Shara held out a hand to her fellow Warden, motioning for him to get to his feet. "Alistair, it's a good thing Duncan recruited you. You never would have lasted in the Tower."