This is something I wrote a few months ago for a challenge among some friends of mine when we got into a debate over who would be the best kisser. The challenge: Pick your favorite guy/gal in Thedas, and prove that they're the best kisser around. Hands must stay where we can see 'em, and no sex. Kissing only.
So, I tried to think of something a little different. Rather than the romantic "first kiss" or similar... this scene popped into my head, and then I couldn't get away from it.
This is in honor of my very first playthru, where Alistair shocked the hell out of me by falling in love with my character, who I'd created in the interest of being "interesting" rather than "typical". (I had no idea Dragon Age included relationships!) Little did I know what that man had in store for me. This is what happened... though of course, I've expanded it appropriately in the name of fanfiction. 2:30am, alone in my PJs on my 14th hour of gameplay, determined to finish the game once and for all, and Alistair did *this*.
The doors burst open, the four of them skidding across the stone as they achieved their goal - the roof of Fort Drakon. And there it was... that terrible beast she'd dreamed of since the first time the Darkspawn blood had touched her lips.
"There it is," Alistair breathed, his voice hoarse from smoke and exertion.
"So let's kill it," Larkin returned in a hard voice, her blades gripped in palms gone slick with sweat.
Of course, nothing is ever that easy, and it seemed like hours later that the beast lay prone on the roof, screaming its terrible death, ringed by its own blood. So many fallen surrounded them, lives spent in the effort to free Thedas from the tyrrany and horror guaranteed if the Archdemon survived.
Larkin panted, her green eyes trained on the creature as she prepared herself. Morrigan had offered a solution, but Larkin didn't trust magic... she'd refused. And now, she would pay the ultimate price.
It mattered not. Alistair had broken her heart, telling her he didn't love her anymore, anyway. Maybe he'd never loved her. Who was she, anyway? A small nobody, casteless, without family or title. Alistair would be king - there was no way he could take on this duty. A tight pain choked her as she stared at her writhing fate, wondering just what would happen when she killed the Archdemon.
She was never to find out.
"Larkin," Alistair's voice pulled her out of her reverie. "Wait." His hands closed over the shoulders of her armor, preventing her from running. Sodding humans, why did they have to be so tall?
"Out of my way," she grated, hot tears spilling from her eyes. Vision blurring, she wiped the wetness away with angry fingers, shrugging out of his grip. "Stay here."
"No," he insisted. "I'm doing it."
Words escaped her. Not that she normally spoke very much anyway, but... no! Alistair couldn't - he couldn't - "No," she cried as his hands clasped her shoulders once more. "Alistair -"
"You can't stop me," he pointed out as one side of his mouth rose. "You're too small." The half smile didn't touch his eyes, however, and Larkin saw her own scared face reflected in that depthless hazel. "I love you too much to let you die."
Her heart pounded, cold chills racing over her skin. "You're to be the king," she argued, the words so difficult to force out as she curled her fingers around his wrists. "Ferelden needs you. They don't need me!"
"I need you," he said simply. "I can't live in a world where you're not... so, this is my first and last act as Ferelden's king. Saving it."
"Please, Alistair..." she whispered, her speech thick with tears. He crouched before her, leaning in to brush her nose with his - an affectionate quirk they'd practiced almost from their very first kiss. Pure joy shone from his own damp eyes as he leaned his forehead on hers, fingers weaving into her hair.
"I love you," he whispered.
Larkin sobbed to feel his mouth join with hers, their tears mingling as lips met for the last time. Ancestors, but she'd missed him! His taste overwhelmed her, so hauntingly familiar as his tongue swept over her own, the sweet softness of love reaffirmed fluttering her stone-protected heart. Alistair's fingers smoothed over her cheek, the kiss intensifying as they both gave in to the desires they'd suppressed in the name of politics and country. His teeth scraped the tender flesh of her mouth... such a delicious pain, the ultimate reminder of being alive. Heart beating fast, goosebumps rippled over her skin as desire sparked to fervent life. Larkin raked her fingers through Alistair's hair, holding him to her, demanding he never leave her; not now, not ever. Alistair's other hand clasped the small of her back, forcing her body against his. She pressed herself to him, willingly, despairing that they hadn't wrung more out of their time since the Landsmeet. Alistair shuddered, his breathing labored, a tiny, tormented sound touching her ears. The kiss bruised, the two of them come starving to their last meal, the final moment before she never saw him again.
When at last they broke, it was to clutch each other close with heaving chests and quickened breath. Larkin's fingers braided into Alistair's hair, cradling his head to the crook of her neck. He held her tightly, his eyes squeezing shut before he snared her lips in one final assault. Then he was gone, tearing over the stones, one hand plucking his sword from a mangled carcass as he raced to meet death.
Larkin collapsed to her knees, her heart shattering as she watched the man she loved more than her own life give his own to save her. Perhaps it was to save Ferelden, as well, but deep in her heart of hearts, Larkin knew it was for her and her alone. The glow that radiated from him as the Archdemon met its end could not penetrate the ice that encased her heart, her eyes blinded by wetness and all-consuming pain. When the force of the souls' destruction knocked them all to the ground, Larkin had already fallen, huddled upon the stone that for the first time in her life, did nothing to soothe the agony in her heart.