Alistair couldn't decide if he was nervous or excited, and when he saw Maeve waiting for him at the gate to the Keep, his inner conflict intensified.

Maker, she was gorgeous. She had developed a fondness for Tevinter fashion, trading in her dull Circle robes for plunging necklines and short skirts that tortured him with peeks of bare flesh.

"Your majesty," she said warmly, dropping to one knee. The position afforded him a breathtaking view of her breasts. Her pale green eyes sparkled through the fringe of her lashes as she looked up at him, and he realized she was teasing him on purpose.

"Warden-Commander, please," he groaned, extending a hand to help her up. He turned to his company of guards and templars. "Go on ahead. I'll be safe." They didn't argue; it had been a long trip.

"Andraste's flaming sword, Maeve," he sighed when the his entourage was out of earshot.

"I wanted to see if you missed me," she said sweetly.

"You can't imagine," he replied, his throat tightening.

She reached over and squeezed his gauntleted hand. "I miss you too," she assured him. Her sultry expression had softened and a crease had formed between her brows.

He kissed her hand. Oh, how he hated all of this.

"Come on," she urged, tugging his hand. "I'll show you the Keep."

She took him up to the battlements and dug a bottle of wine out of a grainsack. Chilling it with magic, she passed it to him. "So, things not going well with Anora?"

He snorted. "I'm sorry, are you asking if I'm caboodling with the Ice Queen? Because that's hilarious. Or...sad. I don't know." He rolled his eyes at her pitying smile. "When she found out that the odds of me giving her an heir were slim, she decided it wasn't worth trying. Which is fine by me." He sighed, frustrated in more ways than one.

"You're not your father, Alistair," she said softly, and the words hit hard.

"How do you always know what I'm thinking?"

She shrugged and bit her lip, and he smiled sadly, understanding.

On their last night together, he had started to tell her he loved her, and she pressed a finger to his lips. "Wait," she'd whispered urgently. "Alistair, I will always love you. You must know that. But tomorrow, everything will change, and if we pretend otherwise we'll only be torturing ourselves. Before you say it, I want you to promise me that it's the last time."

He kept his promises.

It was nice to be among Grey Wardens again, even ones Alistair hardly knew. He did make it a point to sit on the other end of the table from Oghren, for fear of the kind of comments he tended to make. He found himself across from Nathaniel Howe, who strangely enough seemed quite cordial with the woman who killed his father. And there was an animated corpse down the row. Makes our little crew look quite normal, he thought.

He tried. He tried his very best to pay attention, to listen to their stories. After all, he'd ostensibly come to present an award for the eradication of The Mother, and to hear reports of all the things they'd learned in their encounters with these strange and previously unheard-of darkspawn. He should have been enthralled by their tales of adventure - and terror.

But he couldn't keep his eyes off of Maeve. Her rich voice, the way her memories played themselves out in her eyes, the strand of ebony hair that had worked itself free from her chignon… everything about her called to him. And she knew it. Of course she did. She knew everything about him.

After dinner, she took him to her office to show him some "reports."

Just watching her close the door elevated his heart rate. "Are you sure -"

"Shhh." Taking his hand, she led him around her desk to her relatively plush chair and pushed him down. "Do you really want to talk me out of this?" she murmured, climbing onto his lap.

"Of course I don't," he sighed, running his hands up her thighs. Her body fit against against his perfectly as ever, and her tongue tasted of sweet red wine. She curled her fingers into his hair as he ran the tip of his tongue along her jaw to that sensitive spot just below her ear. He groaned as she leaned back against the desk, feeling her heat through his trousers as she pressed herself against his throbbing cock.

"Mmm, you have missed me," she moaned, arching her back as she unlaced her robes. He worked his way through the layers of chains that encircled her waist, letting them fall one by one to his feet. He ran his hands up her body to slide the garment from her shoulders -

And froze, his hands cupping her breasts. That cheeky mage was leaning against the door, arms crossed. "Do you mind?" he growled, pulling Maeve against him.

"Not at all, your highness. Carry on."

Maeve shook her head. "Anders," she chuckled.

He glared at the blond man. "Is this barging in bit something you learn in the Circle?"

"If you want to get technical, I think you're the one that's intruding."

Maeve bit her lip, and her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

He loosened the arms around her waist. "Maker's mercy, I didn't -"

"I'm a healer," Anders interrupted. "Simple as that. And on Thursdays , I tend to my Commander's… physical demands."

She rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm sorry, maybe I -"

"No! No, don't apologize." He took a deep breath. "I'm glad your… needs are being met."

"You have her quite spoiled, I must say," Anders said. "She's not an easy woman to satisfy - and believe me, I'm quite satisfying ."

Alistair realized he didn't need to take the mage's word for it - he could feel her smallclothes growing damp. "Is that true, darling?" he asked, his lips against her ear, but his eyes still on the other man. "Have you been left wanting?"

She ground against his cock. "Oh, I'm always wanting."

With a flick of his wrist, Anders sent the papers fluttering off the desk.

Gripping her ass, Alistair stood and lifted her onto the desk, then slid her robes down to pool about her waist. "Let's see what we can do about that, shall we?" He gave Anders a look over her shoulder, and the mage leaned across the desk to kiss the back of her neck. She gasped, her lashes fluttering, and Alistair lowered his mouth to her breast. She gripped his shoulder, and when he glanced up he saw that she had leaned back and invited Anders' tongue into her mouth. It was quite different, seeing her lust from a new angle.

I believe I'm going to enjoy this, he thought. He pulled her robes down over her full hips, Anders helpfully sliding his hands under her ass to lift her up. Guiding her legs - still clad in her knee-high boots - over his shoulders, he gently parted her dark curls and lapped up her sweet nectar. She moaned, and he glanced up to see the mage's soft, elegant hands cup her breasts.

His eyes met hers and she gave him that sweet, sexy smile he loved so much. He sighed into her flesh and circled her clit with his tongue, eliciting a squeal. He felt her hands in his hair.

"Alistair, please," she moaned.

He smiled, knowing exactly what she wanted. She gasped as he ran the flat of his tongue along her slit before slipping a finger inside her. He licked and sucked her clit and added a second finger. Her dripping cunt clenched around him and he knew it wouldn't be long. Lifting his head so he could watch her, he pressed his thumb to her clit, rocking it back and forth.

She was leaned back against Anders, her head resting on his collarbone as he played with her breasts and nibbled on her ear. Her eyes were shut, and the hand not gripping his hair flexed rhythmically on the desktop. Alistair laced his fingers with hers and her lashes fluttered, her glazed green eyes boring into his. As she opened her mouth, Anders' fingertips tightened on her nipple, and Alistair gently scissored his fingers inside her.

Her nails dug into the back of Alistair's hand as she cried out, her eyes never leaving his, and his cock strained against his trousers, the whole of him hungry for her, starving. Her withdrew his soaked fingers and licked them clean. Anders eased away from her trembling body and supported her with a hand between her shoulderblades until she no longer looked like she might collapse. She brushed hair back from her face, breathing heavily, and smiled at Alistair.

"Will you let me kneel for you, your majesty?" she asked breathily.

"Oh, Maker, how could I refuse?" He helped her down from the desk and admired the lift of her breasts as she stripped off his shirt, her palms skimming his sides, even that bit of contact enough to make his pulse pound. She kissed him, making a small, satisfied sound that he knew came of tasting herself on his tongue, and worked her way along his jaw, down his neck to the hollow of his throat. She kissed down his chest, pausing to flick his nipple with the tip of her tongue, and pushed his trousers down, dragging her breasts down his body and back uup. For the briefest second, she cradled his cock between her breasts, a new and incredibly arousing visual. Then she pushed him into the chair.

The sight of her on her knees almost undid him then and there. She gazed up at him, her breasts heaving, and began at his knee, blazing a trail of kisses and bites along his inner thigh. He groaned as she wrapped her delicate fingers around his cock, bathing it with warm breath. He was dripping, and she rubbed the precum across her lips, then licked it off.

"Oh Maeve," he groaned.

Grinning, she ran her tongue expertly up the underside of his shaft, swirling it around the head. He tangled his fingers in her hair and struggled to keep his hips still. She hated to be interfered with, he thought with a smile.

"Commander."

To be honest, he'd rather forgotten about the mage, who was now sitting, naked, on the edge of the desk. He was all long and lean and somehow it pleased Alistair to see that her new lover's body was so different from his own muscular frame. A substitute, but not a replacement.

"Shall we give the king a demonstration of the virtues of magic? " he asked.

Maeve's eyes widened. "Do you - would it even…?"

"Only one way to find out," he chuckled.

Alistair had no idea what they were talking about, but his love's flushed cheeks made him quite… curious. Bracing herself on his thighs, she arched her back, giving Anders access to her glorious cunt. Alistair kept his eyes on hers as she took his cock fully into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks to suck the length of him. He sighed in ecstasy as she hummed around his cock, registering the change in her breathing as Anders stroked or fingered her.

His hand tightened in her hair as the vibrations changed. His cock was positively tingling in her mouth! She peeked up at him, the barest sliver of green through her lashes, and she was smiling. She slid his cock out of her mouth to lick the shaft again, but when the tip of her tongue reached the head of his cock, she made a sharp keening sound and a spark of blue lit at the tip of her tongue. His cock twitched in her hand - it was as if being struck with a lightning bolt of pure pleasure!

"Dear Maker!" he cried, and both mages laughed.

"Anders has been...tutoring me on all manner of things I didn't learn in the Circle," she explained, her voice thick with lust. "I'm delighted to have a chance to show you. "

Though the debauchery in the Circle was well-known, Maeve had left that place a virgin, calling it one of the few things they couldn't take from her. There was no love within the tower walls, she'd said, and her time with Alistair felt like a victory over the oppression of the Order. As a result of her chastity, the erotic potential of her gift came as a surprise to both of them.

Moistening the tip of a finger with her tongue, she stroked the underside of his shaft with an unexpected chill that made the heat of her mouth all the more pleasurable. She alternated her frost with Anders' electricity until Alistair was panting.

"I think the Commander has earned another orgasm, don't you, your majesty?"

He recognized the look in the mage's eyes - he was asking for permission. Glancing down at Maeve, her eyes full of lust and her mouth full of his cock, he wanted to give her everything, every delight, every pleasure imaginable. "She certainly has," he said fondly, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

He watched her face carefully as she shifted to take Anders' cock. Her eyes rolled as he sank into her, and she moaned around Alistair's cock. She began rocking back and forth between the two men, sucking and fucking with abandon. He gripped her hair tightly as she pumped his cock vigorously in and out of her mouth, and as he felt his own orgasm brewing he pulled away from her, holding her by the hair.

Her mouth formed a surprised o as his cock slipped from between her lips, but when she looked at him an understanding passed between them, and she gave him a hazy, lustful smile. Planting her hands on the floor, she glanced over her shoulder as she thrust firmly back against the other man.

"Come on, Anders," she panted. "Let's have a little spark, yeah?"

"As you command," he chuckled, leaning over her to slide a hand along her belly.

Alistair thought he could see the flash of blue, and Maeve grunted, slamming back against Anders' hips.

"Again," she demanded, and he obliged.

Alistair almost wished he could see it, that elegant hand parting her swollen lips, one of those long fingers setting sparks off against her clit. Stifling a groan, he stroked his cock carefully, dangerously close to coming undone.

Her mouth hung half-open, her breath coming in sharp gasps as Anders pounded his cock into her. He fired one last spark against her clit and she cried out, her fingers flexing against the floor.

"Andraste's knickers," she gasped, sitting back onto her heels. "Are you ready? You've earned it."

Alistair could hardly believe that he was watching his love suck another man's cock. She sat on her heels, hands splayed on her thighs, and Anders took his shaft in his hand and slowly fed it to her. His eyes closed, his other hand running through his mussed blond hair, he pumped his shaft between her lips until he cried out.

Alistair watched her throat work as she swallowed the mage's load, her eyes closed as well. She licked the tip of his cock as it left her mouth, then wiped her lips with a satisfied sigh. Anders stumbled back and collapsed onto a bench along the wall.

She turned and smiled at Alistair, bathed in a sheen of sweat and lust. "Will you get on the desk for me, my love?" she said breathily.

"Anything for you," he replied. The desk was just long enough for him to lie on if he let his feet dangle. She climbed on top of him, rubbing her wet slit along the length of his cock. "Still wanting, darling?"

"Of course," she breathed. "Always."

A moan escaped his lips as she sank her dripping cunt onto his cock, and she sighed when he was fully sheathed inside her. Even after the pounding from Anders, she still gripped him so tightly. She leaned over him, bracing her hands on either side of his head, and he cupped her breasts as she rode his cock with agonizing slowness.

"Commander?"

She looked surprised to see Anders, clothed and standing by her feet.

"Can I offer one last service?"

Confusion flitted across her face, quickly replaced by understanding. She smiled down at Alistair. "Indeed," she panted, settling onto his cock.

"What -"

"Shhh," she whispered, grinning. She laid down on him, her breasts crushing against his chest, and caught his earlobe between her teeth. "Just wait."

Her hips ground against him and she gasped as he felt a strange shift in pressure at the base of his cock.

"Is he…?"

Maeve plunged her tongue into his mouth as Anders worked his finger in and out of her ass. Suddenly, there was that tingle again, stronger than before. His hips jerked, and she grunted against his mouth.

Gripping her hips, he began pumping his cock into her, holding her in place so as not to interrupt Anders. The two men quickly fell into a rhythm, Anders rewarding him with a spark every time he buried himself firmly in her cunt. His pace quickened and he thrust even harder.

"Alistair," she said, her tone pleading. "Alistair, come undone for me. I want to - I want -"

Her body spasmed against his as his cock and Anders' magical finger brought her to release, and the combination of her clenching cunt and one last spark brought him to his full. He cried out, burying his face in her neck as his cock pulsed inside her.

They lay there, his arms draped around her, until the haze of pleasure subsided. He became vaguely aware that the mage had left them. Good man, that Anders.

Maeve lifted herself up to look him in the eye. Her lips swollen, her hair a mess, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and delight, she was the most beautiful woman he would ever see. "Was that - was it alright?" she asked tentatively.

Cupping her head, he pressed his forehead to hers. "Anything for you, my queen," he sighed. "Anything at all."