This is my first fanfic in what seems like decades, so any criticism is welcome. Please be sure to review after you read!

Oh, and uhm... if it, at some point, doesn't seem like I'm fulfilling the 'Third Person Limited' point of view, tell me. I'm not all that used to writing in that PoV. ^^'

- Brecilian Passion -

Over time, the relationship between Anya and himself had been steadily increasing on the meter. She had started giving him gifts, arcane tokens that he found most peculiar. Paired with the close quarters of camp and the fighting that they were forced to take part of, it didn't bode well for his dreams or his thoughts of her, as he had started to think of her more than what he probably should be. A few flirty remarks, a few months, and far more than a few adventures later he was infatuated with her. He had given her a rose on an occasion before, telling her how he felt, and even stole a kiss from her before she sauntered over to her tent, giving him a wink before she disappeared. Right now, however, he found himself between a rock and a hard place. Duty was first and foremost to him, but the thought of having to discard the relationship with his fellow warden dismayed him. He knew that he should probably break off all romantic relations with the woman, but couldn't bring himself to do so, for he feared his heart would become lifeless and broken without her.

They were currently in the Brecilian Forest, on their way to Denerim to pick up some supplies and information on the Urn of Sacred Ashes from Brother Genitivi, a man, they were told, that was pursuing the Urn for historical purposes. After rescuing the town of Redcliffe from its devastation and aiding the Circle in order to enlist their help with the Blight and Connor, the possessed boy they'd saved, they had decided that the only possible cure for Eamon's inevitably fatal illness were some of the ashes of Andraste, a mere legend that they had heard little about from traveling knights and superstitious countrymen. Since the journey from Redcliffe was long, they were expected to make several stops in the woods for rest and refreshment, which was something that the whole party was grateful to have the time for.

They had already set up camp, a large blazing fire in the middle of the central tents. Leliana sung of mighty battles, filling the camp with song, but he did not pay attention to her. Sten (they had found out was a title after about a month of traveling with the Qunari) was sharpening his sword, whispering to himself in a somewhat far-off corner in the camp. Zevran, the smooth-talking assassin that the other had spared, was polishing his boots and daggers, mixing more poisons and concoctions to throw in the midst of battle. Morrigan - The bitch, he thought to himself – was nearby yelling at Maric, Anya's faithful mabari hound, who seemed to have brought the witch a half-eaten hare, which she didn't seem all that happy about (he would have laughed for sure, if he were paying attention). Wynne, from what he could tell, was in her tent resting, which he couldn't blame her for. Shale, the golem they'd picked up on their way from the Circle Tower, had decided to keep watch while all of them slept, so she stood near the entrance of their encampment. However, their leader, the junior Grey Warden, seemed to have run off at some point, and was muttering something about grime and bathing, the sound of a waterfall nearby making him shake his head in understanding. Her voice had been a bit uneasy despite her confident aura, though he did not notice it in the haze of his mind.

His conscious clouded with thoughts, Alistair decided to take a walk in the woods nearby, sword and shield ready at hand just in case he might come across some trouble. He yelled to Shale and the rest of the camp about taking off for a little bit, in which he was responded to with silent acknowledgment. They had encountered sylvan around here, trees that could walk and groan and yell and smash people, as well as feral wolves, werewolves, and undead, not to mention the always threatening darkspawn attacks they had encountered several times. Leaves crunched under his feet, his platemail clinking ever so slightly as he moved through the forest, making sure not to go too far from their campsite.

'Andraste's sword,' he scolded himself, displeased with his indecision, 'why does it have to be so hard to choose between the two? Why couldn't I have met her after all this?' His head hurt thinking this much about something that might have seemed a lot more obvious to most other people. The thought that their love could be taken away at any moment, that one of their lives could be lost at any time made him contemplate deeper than he would usually.

The sounds of rushing water made him aware of where he was, his cluttered head blocking out his surroundings for a short time while he contemplated. Looking around, he noticed that he was on a cliff, overlooking a lagoon of some sort. Several trees blocked his complete view, but he could see some form moving around underneath, stretching and rubbing and cleaning. His cheeks grew hot, as he thought he was probably red right now. 'Andraste's blood, that's Anya! Look away, you bumbling fool,' he scolded again, though he couldn't bring his eyes away from her form. There was a perfect view from through the trees, he realized, where he could see her very clearly. The noise of the waterfall covered the sound of his armor, something he was thankful for as the woman below was kept unaware of her watcher.

Her fair skin, seemingly ivory in the moonlight, contrasted with the dark, ebony locks of her long, wet hair. Her skin glistened, shining from the contact with the water, two very particular mounds drawing his attention as she rubbed them, making him inhale sharply. 'She's only cleaning herself. You're a bad man,' he told himself. He moved away somewhat when she looked up, putting her hands through her hair as she ran through it like a comb, making sure it wasn't tangled and making sure the soap was gone from it. However, everything seemed to go completely awkward after that as she pulled on her hair, biting her lip.

Alistair's eyes widened when a loud moan escaped from her lips, eyes closed in what he would only assume was ecstasy. Another moan followed; did he just hear his name come from her lips? A large bulge was growing in Alistair's lower regions right then, though he payed no mind to it. His undivided attention was on her. Did she feel the same way he did? In fact, did he feel the same way she did? His answer was given when her hand plunged down to her nether regions, a moan he could hear even over the sound of the water, making him freeze, holding his breath.

He could tell she was panting by now, her bountiful body shaking as she leaned back against a nearby rock, her breasts bouncing as her chest heaved. As a boy raised in the Chantry, he never saw anything like this, even in the books that the boys passed around that told of such things, and now he knew that words could not bring the image of a woman, particularly this one, to justice.

The quick movements from her delicate hands told him that she was probably nearing completion. "A...A-al..." she breathed, moving her unoccupied hand to her breasts, thumbing and toying with one of her nipples, making him shudder as she did so. "A-ah... Oh, Maker, yes..." she moaned, praising her own actions with delicious sounds and jerks. At this point, Alistair believed that he should attend to his growing problem, the sounds becoming just a bit too much for his virgin ears. He quickly removed his gauntlets, making a small clatter as they landed on each other on the grass below him, and he removed his plate leggings to reach for the item under his smallclothes, growing with the enthusiasm of the woman he desired below, calling his name. Grasping it, he pumped, groans escaping from his trembling mouth as he began to pleasure himself, biting his lip just as she had done. He hadn't heard anything from below after that, his attention diverted from her when he closed his eyes, pictures of her body echoing through his mind along with the sound of her sweet moans.

He was on his knees now, though he sneaked a look over the cliff to see if she was still there. As if she were just a mirage, she was gone, leaving him to his secret spot above the falls to finish and moan out her name. His essence, luckily, only spilled onto his hand, which he was grateful for. A giggle came from behind him, making him freeze. "Someone's been a naughty little boy, watching me bathe." The voice was downright sexy, tantalizing. It could only belong to a certain female warden he traveled with, for he had heard it several times. He could smell the fragrance of roses in the air, and turned his head to look at her, sweat beading his forehead. What a horrible mistake, as he found she wasn't wearing anything, her armor being carried along with her, her breasts rubbing against it, instantly getting him into the mood again. "Mmm, did you see me and decide to have some fun too? Why didn't you join me?" she asked, her piercing green eyes looking at him with longing. He couldn't tell if she was pouting or if he was seeing things, but, Maker, did it get him back in the mood.

His thoughts returned to her words finally. 'Wait, what?' His mouth was surely open by now, agape as he stayed on his knees, moving to kneel only to remember his manhood still out of his armor. He blushed intensely. "J-join you?" he questioned. He was sure this was a dream by now, and he blinked a few times before continuing. "Wait a second. You... wanted..." She let out a giggle as he stammered, not able to think properly. "Oh Maker, I can't believe you'd want me." Her eyes took a dangerous slant as they seemed to narrow,

"I can't imagine anyone else I'd want, Alistair," she growled, moving closer to him, dropping her equipment on the floor below her. When she kneeled down beside him, he made no move to edge away, nor did he move to remove his armor, his eyes hungrily taking in her form more closely. "I waited for the time you'd seek me out, waited for you to be ready, but... had I known you were like this," she started, motioning toward his quickly-hardening length and stroking it briefly with one of her fingers, rewarding her with a sharp intake of breath. "I would have acted on my own, surely."

He licked his lips, suddenly feeling thirsty. "I'm a bad man," he muttered very bluntly, the statement repeating itself in his head, echoing. "A very bad man," he repeated lower, to add on to his previous statement. About to start a string of ridiculous banter about cheese and other such things because of his uneasy feeling, he was interrupted by a deep kiss from her, his mouth invaded by her tongue as she started to unbuckle his plate armor, pushing him onto his back as she did so. He could do nothing but comply to her requests and actions, taking off his sabatons and breaking the kiss briefly to breathe and take off his breastplate and chain shirt underneath, throwing his sword and shield somewhere nearby. He had missed his shirt, though she ripped it off of him, throwing it away like a rag. He broke away from her a second, eyes a little wide. "That wasn't necessary," he remarked. She let out a little giggle, moving her hand to her mouth, biting on her index finger.

"Mmm, but to see the look on your face when I did that... it was worth it," she replied in between soft pants, still trying to recover her breathing from the long, breath-stealing kisses they shared. His brow went back to its normally flirty arch, as he took it upon himself to steal her lips again, moving to make it easier to wiggle out of his lone cloth undergarment in order to join her in being completely bare. Her eyes trailed down his figure, her tongue darting out of her mouth as she took her time to stare at him, her eyelids seeming to suddenly start to feel heavy.

"Like what you see?" he asked, a grin on his face, confidence back (for the most part, he thought). She nodded, licking her lips as she kissed him again, this time with so much force that he was forced to his back on the ground, her dominating him. She was hungry, and he could easily tell that she was determined to get what she wanted. She latched onto his neck, sucking, biting, and licking her way downward. Moans escaped from him, as she lapped at his glistening, sweat-layered skin, reveling in the tangy taste of it as she licked around a nipple. His breathing suddenly hitched. Looking in his eyes with a gleam in her own, she closed them as she licked the small nub, earning a shudder on his part. Pleased, she started to bite and lick at it, eventually switching to his other one and repeating her ministrations.

"You're sure you've... never done this before?" she interrogated, stopping what she was doing to look at him, a hand on his chest and another on his thigh. He groaned.

"Never had the pleasure," he whispered, "-Unless I was asleep or..." He trailed off, suddenly feeling a bit cold. She let out a little giggle, as she moved herself lower, her attention on his manhood. She looked at it for a second, before bringing her hand to it, stroking it once with her finger. He whimpered.

"So... all you've done is..." she grabbed it in her hand, pumping it once, as he let out a low groan. "this?" She knelt down, licking the tip of it as he hissed. "Perhaps I should... show you a few things, yes?" Smirking, she descended upon it, her tongue moving underneath as her lips sucked and moved down his hard shaft.

He let out a low, growl-like moan, little sounds of pleasure escaping his lips as she continued to pleasure him, his arms to either side of him to grip the grass nearby like a lifeline. His templar training had prepared him with enough discipline to withstand most of her torture, but this was completely different than the bearable bites and licks to his chest that he was prepared for. 'Maker, the heat,' he remarked, as she bobbed her head around his hardened shaft. He had never imagined Anya doing this sort of thing, especially with himself as the receiver, and it almost seemed as though he were in a dream, and that this wasn't real. He was pulled back to reality when she hummed around his length, making him draw his breath faster, almost making him release at that moment.

"D-don't do that," he breathed out. She pulled away from his length, giggling again, as she crawled on top of him, a small strand of saliva starting to trickle down her chin which she stopped with her tongue. Her stomach made contact with the tip of his member as she did so, making him bite down on his lip

"Then we'll move on," Anya drawled out, running her fingers over his chest, her wet, swollen heat pulsating on his lower abdomen. He flexed experimentally, making her shut her eyes and let out a little gasp. He chuckled, making her glare at him, her tongue sticking out of her lips as she bit on it, forcing herself not to let out any more sound. "Don't tease me, Alistair..." she whined, moving to rub her rump against his length. He hissed, though he could tell that the Warden underneath him was starting to lose her coherency and thought as she became more drunk on her arousal, wondering what to do with her next.

"Fine," he groaned, pulling her to him, kissing her once again, this time tenderly and softly. She moaned into his mouth as he brought his fingers down to her inner thighs, dancing them along the outer edges of her intimate folds, making her arch and press her chest against his, her mouth going slack. Grinning, he pulled his mouth away, plunging two of his fingers into her wet core, eliciting a cat-like mewl from the woman that ended up stimulating him even more. Curling his fingers, she collapsed onto him, legs around his hips, tightening as he continued his movements, his breathing labored. "I wonder," he suddenly thought aloud, pulling out his fingers, making her cry out in disappointment. He grasped her hips, flipping both of them over as he dominated now, looking over her as she accepted her own submission, her eyes hazed over, drool escaping from her mouth. "Do you like this torture?" he murmured as he attacked her neck as she did to him, mimicking the things she had done to him. Licking and sucking her neck made her breathe heavy, but as he traveled downward to her nipples, she moaned wantonly.

"Alistair..." she breathed, hands flying to his short blonde hair, holding his head in the area as he sucked and licked, teasing her. "You lied," she forced out, licking her lips, making him stop his stimulation and look at her, brows arched high. "You've done this before, I just know it," she sighed, making him let out another one of his hearty chuckles.

"Trust me, all of this is brand new to me," he admitted once again. "Though... we did have some books we passed around at the abbey dormitories..." he trailed off, lazily pinching and grabbing at her neglected nub, making her bite down on her lip. "Lots of things I read about in one of the books..." he breathed out, shifting himself lower, abandoning her upper half for her lower. He situated himself inside of her legs, getting down on his knees as he brought her hips up, tongue darting out to taste her. She let out a whiny moan, her head lolling to the side as her strength seemed to leave her. Looking at her once more, her eyes lidded heavily, he murmured, "like this." He thrusted his tongue in, licking and sucking, bringing his thumb to tease the small nub there, increasing her pleasure tenfold. She grasped the ground beneath her, trying to find something to hold on to as he invaded her nether region. Within what seemed like hours, she let out a low groan, her body shaking as she whispered his name. He licked and swallowed up all of her sweet nectar, giving her folds another lick to make sure he had gotten what he could, eliciting a cry-like mewl from her.

"Much better than what I thought it'd be like," he murmured, before moving to kiss her. She responded sloppily, her strength even less than what it had been before, the exertion of her orgasm extreme.

"I'm begging you... Alistair... I need you inside me," she insisted desperately, wiggling her hips, trying to make her own way onto it herself but failing. He decided she looked and sounded extremely sexy at this point, but he decided to tease her a bit, holding her there for a few seconds longer than she would have liked.

"Such a dirty mouth, my lady, but if you insist," he replied with a slight grin, sitting up and lifting her up into his lap. She made no motion to stop him, throwing her arms around him and clinging to him for support as he did so. He chuckled one last time, before easing her onto his swollen manhood. She gasped at the initial contact, letting out a long, needy moan as he started to fill her, almost falling back had it not been for his own arm on her back. She bit her lip hard, causing blood to run down her chin, dripping onto her breasts.

"Maker... 'Stair.... fast-er..." She groaned, trying to force herself down his shaft and succeeding brilliantly compared to last time. They both let out a loud moan, Alistair's hand starting to grip her back tighter now. Gods, he wasn't even prepared for the heat, but his Templar training had helped him to keep most of his control, sacrificing a lot of his strength to keep himself from going at a brutally fast and reckless pace, though he was sure that the Cousland woman would cause him to do so anyway. He held her there for what seemed like an eternity to her, making her claw up to his ear, breathing heavily, panting hard. "If you don't move, I... Maker's blood..." Her chin was on his shoulder, heavy with fatigue. Despite his efforts he may as well speed up the pace, he decided, since she was begging him to. After all, he found himself unable to deny the minx of what she desired, her face contorted in absolute ecstasy.

He pulled himself out slowly, lowering her back down on him at a pace the other seemed to agree with, moans collecting in the air. Thrusting in and out, he eventually found that she was angling herself, moving her hips to meet his as he moved her, her breath quickening with each movement. He moved to lick the blood off of her breasts, suckling on the skin as his thrusting pace continued.

Both of them were close, and Alistair was nearing his peak, starting to thrust faster, the volume increasing dramatically. He gave her a quick, bruising kiss, throwing all caution to the wind as he thrust deeper and faster into her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Anya..." he groaned. His voice calling her name triggered something inside of her, her body starting to quake as he struggled to keep himself barely below the summit of his desires.

"Alistair!" she screamed, her walls contracting around him, causing him to finish when she did, no longer able to hold off his release. He jerked in and out in a frenzy, before releasing his seed into her, moaning her name. His lack of strength caused her to fall, but also caused him to fall on top of her, tired and sated. They lay there a few minutes, trying to steady their breathing and to muster enough strength to move, before she brought her hands to his head, stroking and petting his hair slowly.

"Maker, that was... completely not what I thought was going to happen," he remarked. "Thought you were going to call me a dirty wretch or a poor slob and leave me here..." She laughed at him, pulling his head up and guiding his lips back to hers, his limp member slipping out of her as he did so. She kissed him slowly, weakly, and he had barely the amount of strength it required to respond to it.

"Never, Alistair..." Hearing this, he took the time to remember when they'd first met, the time he'd first seen her, thought of loving her, told her of his infatuation with her. The first time he'd seen her, he thought she was a blessing from the Maker Himself, a special woman sent to him, with him for a divine purpose. "I love you," the Cousland woman confessed, breaking him out of his light thought with a small raise of his brow. His heart would have sprung out of his chest and hit him in the face if it were able to. Looking up, her face was flushed, her lips swollen and slightly parted as her chest slowly rose and fell, looking at peace, and Alistair thought she had never looked more beautiful before in all the times he'd seen her. He finally knew the answer to his problems, knowing that leaving, hurting, or letting this woman down would be the worst mistake he'd ever make. Duty would be second only to his love, his angel amidst a bloody battlefield whom he'd found only by chance.

"I love you too," he responded truthfully without hesitation, pecking her on the lips again. She gave him a genuine smile, staring into his eyes as though there was nothing more important than his own gaze, contagious in its own sense as he felt a wide grin creep onto his face. "I am a lucky man."

"Indeed you are, and I am a very lucky woman," she replied, laughing. "I'm thinking we might need to 'practice' a few more times before heading to camp though, if you know what I mean..."

"Maker! Are you trying to kill me?" he asked, disbelief on his face. "I mean, a few more times... do you want me to kill myself with overexertion or something?"

She laughed hard, hugging him closer. "Oh, Alistair. If you want, we can sit here and talk about cheese before cleaning each other up and heading back, but I'm not quite sure you – or I, for the matter – are even remotely close to done here... and I'd really like to see what you learned in the Chantry on your spare time, you dirty boy." He began to rethink what he'd said, because he felt completely up for more love-making, he decided.

"Despite how much my passion for cheese goes..." His expression suddenly changed from playful to lustful in a matter of seconds. "Your desire is my command..." he replied huskily, before descending upon her again, ready to please her in any way possible. There was no way that he was leaving her, and no way he was denying her anything he could give her, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Review? I would like them very much. :D

Also, apologies for so much talking during it, but... Alistair just seems like someone that'd tease and talk a whole bunch during sex. Just what I get from him, though.