WHAT WE DO FOR LOVE…

She would stand before him, naked and lithe, her svelte body swaying hypnotically and those full lips pouting suggestively…

Stop it…just stop!

He would be laying there with that sweet, bashful look on his face as she laid a silken hand on his thigh and slid it upward toward his groin…

No…don't do this to yourself…

He always said he hated her, but now…with her ready sex positioned over his member…

Please….no.

Of course, he would enjoy it. He'd have to in order to climax, to get her with child. Would he call her name as he thrust inside her? Would he hold her tightly as his seed pumped into her? Would he cradle her in his arms afterward and whisper into her hair…just as he always did when they made love…?

Bronwen Cousland felt her eyes burning with hot tears as she watched Alistair reluctantly follow Morrigan out of her room.

This was happening…it was really happening. Her husband to be, the future King of Ferelden was going to sleep with the taciturn woman who had become one of her most loyal friends.

She bit down hard onto her lip to stifle the sob that threatened to tear from her throat and tasted the iron tang of her blood...her damned tainted blood. The same blood that meant this act, this ritual had to take place at all.

She guessed it was some form of divine retribution.

At the Landsmeet, she had taken the head of Teryn Loghain not only for the crimes he had committed against King Cailan, the elves of the Alienage, Duncan and the Grey Wardens and Ferelden itself, but for him…for Alistair.

Seeing the outrage in his face when Riordan had suggested recruiting the Teryn to the Wardens had been the weight that tipped the scales. She herself was a child of noble birth, a Cousland no less and deep down, she knew the right thing to do was to offer him mercy and the chance to redeem those wrongs…but Alistair would never have forgiven her.

Not for that.

Even as her sword fell, she knew there would be a price to pay. The assembled nobles hadn't judged her, but somehow, somewhere, she knew somebody would…

Afterwards, she had declared Alistair to be the rightful King and she was certain of her decision even if he was not. He was a good man…no, a great man with the heart of a lion and a steely sense of justice that was tempered with kindness and compassion. Ferelden could have no better ruler.

Then she had surprised herself by offering to rule at his side as Queen Consort.

Naturally, there had been unkind murmurs of her grasping for power, but the simple truth was that she loved him with all her heart and soul and the thought of being without Alistair scared her more than a thousand Archdemons.

So it was decided.

An unconventional proposal, but one that Alistair had calmly accepted and then in the privacy of his room in Arl Eamon's estate, they had celebrated with a desperate, passionate union that brought tears to her eyes as they both reached their peaks and then slumbered in the bliss of exhausted, satisfied sleep.

Then they had returned to Redcliffe and things had taken a painful turn.

A couple of hours ago, Riordan had asked to see them. The look on his face was one of haunted sorrow. Even now, she still felt the chill in her heart as he had explained that the reason only the Grey Wardens could end the Blight was that the Archdemon must be slain by one who has the taint…one who had been inducted into their order…one who must be willing to sacrifice his or her life to perform the killing blow.

For the Archdemon to be destroyed, a Grey Warden must die.

Riordan had volunteered to take the blow but there was no guarantee that he would make it that far and so it would fall to either her or Alistair to end the Blight…and their life together. They had left Riordan in stunned silence. A decision to be made and yet neither willing to make it. Just as she would gladly lay down her life for the man she cared about above all others, so he would do the same for her and therein lay the problem.

Bronwen Cousland could not allow that to happen.

Her mind had raced as they went to their separate rooms, an idea forming in her head. She would tell Zevran of her plight and make him swear to incapacitate Alistair at the appropriate time. The elven assassin had become a closer friend than either of them could have anticipated and she knew he would help her if she asked, even if it meant her death. In the cold light of day, Alistair was to be the King and she…well…she was possibly the last member of a noble house that no longer existed. The country could live without her, but not without her beloved Alistair.

Or so she had decided, until she spotted Morrigan warming herself by the open fire in her room.

The witch of the wilds had surprised her by telling her that she knew of the Warden's role in the slaying of the Archdemon and that she had a way out…for both of them, and Maker knows Bronwen's heart had leapt until she saw the look in her coppery eyes. Gone was the callous confidence and usual indifference that Morrigan so often displayed, and it was replaced by cautious compassion and more alarmingly, anxious guilt.

Her heart had nearly torn in two as the witch explained that to save them both, she would have to lie with Alistair and conceive a child. She would need to practice a dark ritual that would ensure that the essence of the Archdemon would be drawn into the newly conceived babe, sparing the lives of both Alistair and herself. Then Morrigan would steal away, never to be seen or heard from again to raise the child in safety and seclusion.

The agony of her solution had burned into Bronwen's heart like a fiery stake.

Morrigan had not understood her reservations. To her, sex was something she found almost a recreational past-time and not the meeting of heart and soul as it was when she lay with Alistair. Bronwen had not taken another to her bed since being with him, despite Zevran's open flirtatiousness, and the thought of asking her betrothed…actually asking him to sleep with the witch was as painful as a blade to the gut.

And yet she could not bear to lose him or leave him.

So she had gone to him, covering her shame with determination and her pain with her love and Alistair had agreed.

Strangely, that had hurt more than anything else despite the fact she'd used all her guile and cunning to convince him it was the right thing to do...

And now they had departed and she was alone. The battle was on the morrow and she was spending what may be her last night alive trying not to think about Alistair in Morrigan's arms, his lips on her lips, his body against hers…his cock in her cunt.

Anger and despair threatened to overwhelm her, the need to scream and cry forcing adrenaline to surge through her body. Bare knuckles slammed into the cold stone wall as agonised rage tore through her, driving the pain from her mind as skin split and blood flowed freely across her fingers.

Suddenly she rushed from her room.

She passed his door, fortunately the blood rushing in her ears prevented any sounds from reaching her consciousness. On she ran through the corridors of Redcliffe, uncertain of where she was going until she spotted an open door leading to a balcony beyond. The room was in darkness, but the light of the moon was just enough that she could see the stonework balustrade glistening in the cold light and she rushed toward it, finally giving in to the wracking sobs that had been contained for too long.

So this was her penance…and how it hurt.

The blood that flowed from her hands was nothing compared to the tears that rolled down her cheeks. The coolness of the night seized upon them and chilled them to ice as they fell from her eyes and she drew in shuddering breaths to try to calm herself.

By Andraste's holy arse, this was what she wanted! She wanted Alistair to live and she wanted to be by his side!

So why then, was it so damned painful…

"Warden?" The voice was soft and rolling, heavily accented and full of care.

She quickly spun around to find Zevran Arainai standing in the shadows, his shirt and breeches in disarray.

"What are you…?"

She stopped as she spotted a naked serving girl running from the room, gathering her dress in her arms. The darkness prevented her from seeing her face but she could sense the girl's embarrassment. At least this time, she had the good sense to close the door behind her.

"Oh, I see." Bronwen turned to leave. "I am sorry if I have disturbed you."

"Disturbed me, no." His perfect white teeth glinted in the moonlight. "I hadn't yet begun as such…but…what is this?"

His face darkened as he took her damaged hands in his and examined the ruined skin.

"Zevran…" She protested, trying to pull away but his grip was strong.

"Let me look at this." He insisted, pulling her toward the light of the moon. He frowned as he gently touched the wounds and then sat her down in a chair by the balustrade. "Stay here."

She stared out over the lake, feeling stupid and hurt as he disappeared into the room beyond. Bronwen hadn't particularly wanted to be found by anyone and yet there was a feeling of comfort in being with Zev. With him, there was never any pretence and he would never judge her, nor ask anything of her.

In his own way, he was the most honest of them all. Not bound by tradition like Sten or caught up in religion like Leliana. He didn't rely on drink like Oghren or have to live up to ideals like Wynne, and he was nowhere near as dry as Shale. He had all of Morrigan's wit but without the abrasiveness, and where Alistair was the warmth of the sun…Zevran was the heat of the night.

"Here we are." He had returned and knelt by her feet, a bowl of warm water in one hand and a soft towel in the other. "Be prepared I always say."

He winked up at her and she smiled despite herself as he gently dabbed the blood from her hands and cleaned the wounds across her knuckles.

"I am sorry if I have ruined your plans." Bronwen murmured softly. "I didn't realise anyone was in here."

"Hsst." He dismissively waved a hand in the air. "Glad I am that I was here. You know me, I always like to look out for a damsel in distress…especially one as beautiful and as passionate as yourself."

She watched in silence as he set down the bowl and took out a salve from a pouch on his waistband. It smelled faintly of spice and something bitter that she couldn't identify.

"Warden…" He began as he smoothed it over her skin. "As much as I am enjoying your company, why are you not with Alistair…is he the reason for your tears?"

Zevran's amber eyes travelled up to her face and when she met them, she was unable to stop a fresh tear from escaping.

"He is...that is he…" Her voice caught and she had to look away. "He is lying with Morrigan."

Saying it made it seem all the more real and she wept once more as her heart ached.

"No, no, no. You have it wrong." Zevran sighed, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "If I know anything at all about Alistair, it's that he loves you with all his heart and if he was going to…stray, then it would not be with that shrew I can assure you!"

"You don't know what you're talking about." Bronwen whispered, her voice hoarse and her temper beginning to flare.

"In this matter, I think I do." Zevran replied, a slight smile on his face. "You only need to listen to them bickering to know how he feels…"

"Have you suddenly gone deaf?" She snapped, jumping to her feet and glaring down at the assassin. "I tell you he is with her because that's where he is…at my invitation!"

She stepped away from the crouching elf, knocking him to the ground.

"He lies with her so that we can survive the battle, otherwise one of us will die!"

Her voice had risen more so than she had intended and she turned away, trying to control the pain that once more threatened her composure and also her relationship with her most treasured of friends.

"Forgive me Warden, but I don't understand." Zevran rose to his feet and slowly approached her.

She turned to meet his puzzled gaze and took a deep breath to still the storm of emotions that shook her to the core.

"Zev, when a Grey Warden slays an Archdemon, the Warden also dies." She saw his eyes widen as he took another step toward her. "Morrigan is…performing a ritual that will allow us to survive this. In order for things to happen, she must lie with a Warden and Riordan is far too gone with the taint and therefore…"

"Therefore she lies with your Alistair." He finished for her as the tears began to flow freely. "Oh...my dear Warden."

She felt the last vestiges of her reserve crumple as his arms circled her shoulders and she buried her face in his neck. He stroked her raven hair as she wept and whispered comfortingly in his native Antivan as he rocked her gently from side to side. She had never noticed before but he smelled of leather and honey, a bitter-sweet combination that was not unlike Zevran himself.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I know that it is only sex…but it hurts, Zev. It hurts so much."

"Shhh, Amora." He murmured, slipping his hands beneath her hair to cup her face and lift it up to his. "You don't have to ever apologise to me."

He placed a tender kiss on her forehead and leaned back.

"These tears, they fall because you are unhappy."

He kissed her eyelids and she felt her body begin to tremble.

"See how they make your skin glisten. Do not hide them…not from me."

Her pulse began to quicken as she felt the coolness of his lips upon her cheeks.

"You should not be sad, mi Amora, you have a chance at life with the man you love." His mouth hovered dangerously close to her own. "Would that I had that chance to love as you do…to love a woman like you…"

She could smell the spice on his breath and feel the hardness of his arousal as he pressed against her.

"Zevran…this is wrong." She breathed, subconsciously leaning closer toward him.

"I know." He replied, his hand sliding down her body to the belt at her waist. Deft fingers unbuckled it swiftly and he slid his fingers under the band of her drakeskin breeches into the cotton smallclothes beneath. "Do you want me to stop…?"

"I want…" Maker's breath, his fingers were in the soft curling black hair below.

"I want…" She could feel the cream of her own arousal moistening the folds of her sex as he pushed a smooth digit toward the nub of flesh that would make her yield to his ministrations.

"You want the pain to stop…if only for a moment." Zevran lowered his lips to her throat and began to tease at the delicate skin beneath her ear. "I can do that. It is a gift I would willingly give to you…if you would take it?"

His hands upon her naked breasts as she bounces up and down upon his kingly shaft…milking his seed and conceiving a child that they, as Grey Wardens both will never have.

Alistair smiles as he climaxes and breaths her name…

Morrigan…

"Do it, Zevran…I want this…I want you…."

His fingers found her then, and he pressed against her swollen pearl with agonising expertise, drawing forth a deep moan from the core of her being. His lips travelled over her jawline and eagerly sought her own. She felt his hot pink tongue inside her mouth as he kissed her forcefully, making her wince as he bit down on a lip that was already split and causing fresh blood to spurt forth and mix with their saliva.

She clawed at his back, tugging the shirt from his body so that it fell from his shoulders and slipped to the ground. Her nails worked bloody rents in his skin as his fingers became more insistent at her sex, pushing and teasing until her juices flowed freely soaking the fabric that still covered her.

She hadn't realised, but his other hand had been working the studded band that held up her breeches and now they were undone. Swiftly, he withdrew the hand that had been working her tender nub and he yanked the breeches down past her hips. Cool air bit at her heated skin and in the moonlight, her thatch was a black triangle glistening with the wetness of her need.

He offered her a wolfish smile as he stepped back, licking her bitterness from his fingers. In this light, his pale hair looked almost white and his tattoos stood out starkly from his darker skin. His body was lean and hard, each muscle clearly defined by years of training and he moved with inhuman grace.

Zevran was simply magnificent.

With a feral snarl, he pushed her back onto a table near the balcony and lifted her quite easily so that her buttocks rested on its cool surface. His lips found hers once more and they fought a battle for control as he sought to dominate her tongue with his own. His hands were now unlacing the hardened bulge beneath his own breeches and he pulled back a moment so she could better see.

His member was smaller than Alistair's, but he was already wet with pre-cum and as hard as stone. He grasped one of her hands and wrapped it around his shaft before returning his fingers to her aching slit, but she needed no such encouragement. His foreskin was velvety smooth as she began to milk him, sliding the sheath up and down his length causing him to pant with his want. As she did so, he found her nub again and pressed against it…coaxing sensation out of an organ already sensitive with desire and desperation.

Then he slid a finger inside her and her body writhed to the thrill of it. He followed with a second, teasing out her opening and spreading her cream around her hole. She moaned loudly at his attention and he clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Shhh Amora…" He whispered into her ear, all the while his fingers pumping in and out of her. "This is for us and us alone…a secret we will share, no?"

Bronwen nodded, eager to agree…anything to continue to feel the powerful sensations that ravaged her body, then she was being pulled forward and turned around so that her still armoured chest was now against the surface of the table. Strong hands pulled her arms behind her back and she found her wrists locked in Zevran's tight grasp. He restrained her easily with one hand while the other caressed her soft round buttocks and teased at her opening.

"Nearly there…" He moaned softly as she felt the tip of his shaft adding its own juice to her wet and ready sex. "Do you want me...?"

He pushed against her, teasing at her clitoris and slickened folds with his velvet hood.

"I want you…" She responded softly.

"Again." He pushed inside her a little, but withdrew almost immediately.

"I want you." The torture was exquisite and she felt his free hand knot itself in her raven hair.

"Again."

"I want you…I want you, Zevran!"

She almost cried out as he yanked her head back and stabbed his cock inside her so deep and so fast that she had no time to adjust. Pain and pleasure warred for control as her senses overloaded with the intimate penetration of her body, and she writhed in torment as he slowly withdrew leaving only his tip inside of her.

"Feels good, no?" He growled before plunging into her again, only this time she was ready for him and breathed in his shaft as he entered her.

What he lacked in girth and length, he made up for with experience and soon he settled into an alternating rhythm that stoked the flames of her lust and started the muscles of her inner walls twitching in anticipation of the climax to come. He released her hair and wrists before reaching a hand around her thighs to once more tease her clitoris as he fucked her, slow and deep. With the other, he grasped her hip and pulled himself into her harder and harder.

Bronwen could feel the combined fluids of their union running down her thighs and her body was starting to quiver as her orgasm began to build intensity. From the way he was hardening within her, she guessed she wasn't the only one close to the edge.

Placing her hands face down on the table either side of her head, she closed her eyes and let the feelings wash over her as animal passion and instinct took over her rational thought. Harder and harder Zevran pumped inside her and stronger and stronger the feelings became until…suddenly…yes!

She heard him cry out as his seed erupted into her, making her even more slick with the flow of it. It ran in hot streams over her clitoris, coating his fingers as he worked her and soon her own sex throbbed with spasms of pleasure as her heart began to pound and her head started to swim with the intense rapture of orgasm.

"Yes…yes…Alistair!"

She felt Zevran freeze within her as the name left her lips. Gently…slowly… he withdrew from her and stepped back.

"Zev…" She began, the haze of sensation ebbing quickly as her cheeks began to burn with shame.

"Shhh…say nothing, Amora. I knew who was in your heart when we began this."" He had retrieved the towel and began to cleanse his issue from her thighs before helping her to rise to her feet. He then pressed it to her sex as more of his seed emptied out of her.

"What?" Bronwen watched as the assassin laced his breeches and smiled at her.

"I have no claim on your heart, Amora just as she has no claim on your beloved Alistair." Zevran stepped forward and kissed her tenderly. "What we shared just now was nothing more than a pleasantly erotic dream. I suggest we remember it as such."

There was a noise from beyond the door. Two voices, one female and one much more familiar…one that made her blood run cold.

Alistair.

"Damn that serving girl!" Zevran snarled as he gathered the towel and basin from the floor. "Warden, may I suggest you make yourself presentable as quickly as possible? Hurry!"

With fingers numb with fear, Bronwen quickly hitched up her breeches and secured them around her waist. She saw Zevran make his way to the shadows by the door and it was as if he vanished into the darkness there.

She rushed to the balcony and let the chill wind blow the last remnants of their exertions from her body, just as the door opened and the silhouette of a tall, powerfully built human male filled the space within.

"My love?" Alistair's soft voice carried across the floor like a whisper on the breeze.

She did not turn.

She dare not.

"Bronwen, I was looking for you." He was coming closer, she could feel the tension radiating out from him even at a distance.

"Is it done?" She asked, her voice low.

"I…that is…damn it all!" A sob choked off his answer and he paused. "Yes…it is done."

She turned at his sorrow and saw the tears on his beautiful chiselled face glistening in the moonlight. His eyes were so sad and his expression so desperate that her heart melted under his gaze and she ran to him, holding his great body in arms that trembled with love.

"Alistair." She breathed as she held him. "I am so sorry, my love. I should not have asked you to do this thing but I just couldn't stand to lose you…not now…not ever."

"Nor I you." He replied stroking her hair and squeezing her to his chest. "I just wish I hadn't had to…not with…it meant nothing to me, you know. By Andraste's Grace I swear it."

"Don't…" Fresh tears welled in her own eyes as she felt his body beneath the robe he was wearing. He had bathed…she could smell the fresh scent of soap.

"All I could think of was you…no, that sounds wrong…I didn't mean…" He stammered as he searched for the right words.

Could there ever be any?

"Alistair, please!" She begged, unwilling to hear more. "Just think of it as…as…"

She spotted Zevran over his shoulder, slipping silently from the room. She saw him nod once, his amber eyes gleaming from the light of the doorway and then he was gone.

"Just think of it as nothing more than a dream." She pulled back and gazed into Alistair's hazel eyes, her own pain and guilt mirrored in their surfaces. "A dream that will pass with the coming of the dawn."

"More like a nightmare…" He sighed, shaking his head. "I never want to remember it…ever."

He looked away from her then, his face pained and his hands grasping hers.

"Please my dear, I understand if you say no but…may I stay with you for the rest of the night?"

"Alistair…" Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Surely he could not mean to sleep with her…not after…

"No, no, no." Crimson rushed into his cheeks and he smiled weakly. "You misunderstand. I just want to wake up with you, knowing that you are my true wife to be…my true heart…and my truest love. Please Bronwen, let us at least share what little time remains before we throw ourselves to the darkspawn tomorrow. Who knows what our fate will be?"

One look into his pleading eyes softened what was left of her resolve and she gently stroked his strong, stubbled chin.

"The let us retire, beloved." She offered him a weak smile and placed an awkward kiss upon his cheek. "All will be different on the morrow."

Slowly they turned form the balcony and made their way out of the room but as she closed the door behind her, Bronwen could not help but think of Zevran and of the lingering taste of kisses.

Still, it was done now and whatever was to happen next, at least she and Alistair could face it together.