Once More to the Deep Roads

DISCLAIMER:

I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

._..~~~**~~~.._.

The Call of Corypheus

"And so is the Golden City blackened with each step you take in my Hall.
Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting. You have brought Sin to
Heaven and doom upon all the world."

-Threnodies 8:13

..~~~**~~~..

Too tired to go on the small team set up camp, Varric and Hawke worked out the details about dinner while Anders and Bethany lay out their bed rolls. Anders removed his belt and coat. He rolls his coat to use as a pillow but doubted he would be getting much sleep. Bethany is setting up her bedroll, her blue and silver Grey Warden armor making almost no noise as she moves. From the corner of his eye he can see her watching him, when he looks up at her she holds his gaze, her expression unreadable.

Earlier that day he stumbled, covering his ears as he declared through tightly clenched teeth that he wasn't listening. While Varric assured him he was strong, Bethany simply watched, a careful yet understanding looking in her brown eyes. Since then she'd been cautious, always placing herself between her older sister and Anders.

Bethany changed since becoming a Grey Warden. She's darker, cynical, and dishearten but while in battle she turns all that…that rage against her foes with a merciless viciousness that scares him. When he joined the Wardens he was sincere in it, he had planned to be a Warden for life. He chose to accept the Joining, Bethany on the other hand had little choice in the matter. She'd become infected with the Blight while in the Deep Roads and joining the Wardens was the only cure, if you could call it that. He wondered if she resents him for leading them to the Wardens. He breaks eyes contact with her, even if she does not blame him for this life she lives, he blames himself.

The meal consisted of dried rations, jerky and water which were consumed in near silence. Afterwards Bethany and Anders cast powerful warding spells to alert them to intruders, allowing all of them to get some desperately needed sleep.

Anders has only been asleep for a couple of hours before the whispering returns, forcing him awake with a small gasp. He looks around at his companions, pleased that his nightmares woke none of them. Even Bethany seems to be sleeping soundly in her gambeson and leggings, perhaps she is one of the lucky ones who have managed to block out the Archdemon's song. He holds his head in his hands, trying to not only calm himself, but also silence the voice. He gets to his feet and stumbles away from the group. This whispering is so similar to the call of the old gods, but where the Archdemon's song is terrifyingly beautiful this is just song like and haunting.

He hisses a few yards away from the others, falling to his knees grasping his head and squeezing his eyes shut, desperate to stop the voices softly echoing in his skull. "Stop." He begs, skittering to lean against an ancient, crumbling wall. The voices promise so many wonderfully impossible things; it would be so easy to give in. It vows justice for the wronged, strength to protect the weak, power to free the oppressed, knowledge to educate the ignorant, and the secret to purifying his blood of the taint. It offers him a woman with the laughter of his unborn children in her eyes, and an adoring harem. All he has to do is break the spells that bind him. And to free Corypheus he needs Hawke's blood.

"Stop."

The whispering caresses Justice with its powerful vows. It entices the spirit like a long familiar lover. Softly spoken words lure the spirit into a deadly sensual dance. It fondly swirls about Justice whispering, promising, seducing. Anders can feel Justice strain against his hold. All Justice needs Hawke's blood and Anders' magic to break the seals. It vows a guaranteed way to cure Anders of his obsession, and remove the distraction to the Mage Resistance.

Anders is fighting a two front war.

"No. Get out of my head." He softly begs the voice. When he opens his eyes he yelps at the sight of Bethany kneeling before him, her face mere inches from his, studying him with indecipherable eyes. He tries to push himself further into the wall. How long had she been there? How had she moved so silently?

"Do you hear it?" he asks softly, his voice pleading that he not be the only one. But when she shakes her head, he almost sobs.

"You've been a Warden longer than I." she whispers, it's the first time she's spoken to him since they've returned to the Deep Roads.

"I'm decades from my Calling. Why can't I block him out?" His voice despairing and his eyes are vulnerable and desperate.

Without warning her lips crash into his, her hand grabbing a fistful of his blonde hair. Her kiss is unrelenting and demanding. He groans into her mouth.

He grips her arms and pushes her back. "Your sister…" He breathlessly warns.

"Will probably hurt in ways magic cannot heal." She answers, attacking his lips again.

"What?" He exclaims in a whispering voice pushing her back once her words sunk in.

"Don't wake her and she'll never know." She practically growls, grabbing his shirt and pulling him close for more ravenous kisses. Straddling his lap, her tongue exploring his mouth with such diligence he forgets she's ten years his junior. He wraps his arms about her slender frame and pushes her back onto the floor, covering her with his weight. Her hands run through his hair, pulling more wanton groans and stirring buried desires. She grabs his shirt, their lips parting long enough for her to pull it off him.

His hands desperately run the length of her leg, clutching her hip tightly as she grinds against him. Her nails dig into back he pulls his lips away and hisses at the sensation. She grabs his shoulders and flips him onto his back, the stone floor surprisingly and refreshingly cool against his heated skin.

Still straddling his hips, she places a hand to his naked chest as she sits up; heat in her eyes and a delectable grin upon her lips. With agonizing slowness she removes her gambeson, letting it slip off her arm and onto the dusty floor. Anders hands run over the flat plains of her abdomen as she reaches back to unhook her bra. As it joins her gambeson his hands cup her breasts, relishing how hot and heavy they are in his hands. His thumbs gently brush over perk nipples and her head rolls back with a soft sigh. She lowers herself back to him, her lips claiming his with desperate hungry kisses. His hands explore her back, pulling her body even closer.

He rolls her body beneath his, his lips exploring her neck, savoring the taste of her skin. She writhes beneath him, her hand slipping between working to free him of his pants. Anders in turns returns the favor with her leggings; clothes cannot come off fast enough. He whispers her name as she grips him and guides him inside.

Her nails dig into his shoulders as he thrusts his hips, burying himself in her warmth. His groan is obscene as she softly moans his name. Slowly he pulls almost all the way out before just as slowly pushing back in. His lips traveling from her shoulder to her ear. Again he pulls out, leaving only the tip of his cock buried within her. He teases her with little thrusts, and is rewarded by her hips desperately moving trying to take him all. Suddenly he slams into her, her cry of pleasure muffled by his mouth. Several small repeated thrusts pull small desperate sounds which consumes like a man starved. She writhes beneath him, grinding into him. He whispers her name, his rhythm picking up pace.

She grits her teeth and forces him beneath her, her hips rocking and he bites his lip to keep from moaning loudly. She whispers softly, placing her hands on his chest as she continues to rise and fall. Suddenly he can feel her mana dancing and swirling within him. It's both foreign and familiar at the same time. He pulls his mana back instinctively, her body still riding his but her magic waits for his to respond. Slowly, reluctantly, his mana moves towards her; her magic tastes of a thunderstorm while his tastes of green herbs. She's a force mage and he's a healer, their mana dancing and mingling within him, her mouth capturing his moans of ecstasy. He's never known this type of sensation, the pleasure of her body coupled with the rapture of her mana mingling with his…Maker it's euphoric. Her body tightens around him, her head thrown back in a silent cry. He grips her hips and thrusts one finally time into her, his climax matching hers.

"By the Maker, where did you learn to do…that?" Anders asks quietly as they dress, referring to her flooding him with her mana.

"Jarrod." She answers. "He helped me come to terms with this life after my joining. He was my first." She's fastening her gambeson as she speaks quietly.

"Where is he now?" Anders asks, wondering if an irate Warden/boyfriend will be paying him a visit in the future.

She pauses. "He…fell."

"Bethany, I…"

"How're your voices?" the suddenness of the new topics, her eyes finally locking onto his.

He finally realizes that his mind is his own again. He cannot hear Corypheus or the Old God, even Justice seems to be silenced.

"What did you do?"

"I shielded you; but it's temporary, depending on how much taint is in your blood. When it wears off it will hit hard." She warns, sitting next to him, drawing her knees to her chest. "I can undo it if you like." She offers, suddenly realizing that maybe she crossed a line.

"No. Thank you." He says, grateful for the reprieve. "You have to teach me that spell."

"It can only be cast on other, not on the caster. It wouldn't do you any good." She says in a sad tone. "I can still teach you, but um…the sex isn't part of the ritual." A blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Then why?"

"You never knew I had a crush on you? Back in Kirkwall…before the expedition?"

"Uh…no I…uh…really?"

She giggles at his obliviousness. "You know sometimes we travel near Kirkwall. Would you object if I sought you out?" she asks, a wonderfully devious gleam in her eye. Anders grabs her shoulders and kissing her, admitting that he would like to see her again.