This is a flat out AU Dragon Age story. It stars Lenya (the main character from Of Elves and Humans here on - thanks, Merilsell!), Dailana, Strom Cousland (from Like, Temptation to the Max), and at least an honorable mention of the other Origins aaaaand a couple of other well known characters from elsewhere. It arose out of a (silly) series of remarks on Tumblr about 'what would happen if all the Origins survived?' It's not quite that epic, but at least there are multiple Wardens here.

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Alistair frowned at the piece of paper in his hand, then looked up at Anora. "You don't think this gives an unfair advantage to human merchants over elven ones? I still think that taxing forty merchants of both races would bring in more revenue than taxing twenty hum-"

His comment was overridden by the door slamming open, revealing a blond elf with a sheathed dagger in one hand, its hilt in the other, and murder in her eyes. Ignoring the small painting next to the door that wobbled and fell to the ground, Anora quickly gathered up her papers with aplomb. "Ah, yes, Alistair, I see your point. I'll go take care of it while you handle your affairs." She hesitated a moment, then leaned down and whispered, "You did send that message to Strom, right? He'll come? To Denerim, I me-"

"Out!" the elf shouted, and Anora scooted out. Even the prospect of a few nights with Strom weren't worth risking the wrath of Alistair's Dalish love.

"Len, dear," Alistair said weakly. "How good to see-"

"Don't you dear me!" she hissed, flinging the door behind her as she stalked over to his desk. His hands instinctively shot down to protect himself as she came to halt next to his chair, fists still clenched around that dagger. "I thought it was all sorted out! Why is she here?"

"All what was sorted out?" Judging from the deepening red on her neck, that was an insufficient answer. He grimaced and stood, carefully edging out of range of her deadly blade. "Look, I know what we talked about, but Weisshaupt assigned Strom to be Ferelden's Warden-Commander and-"

The door was again flung open, this time by a flushed Anora. "Why didn't you tell me that?" she demanded. Abruptly realizing that she had exposed her own eavesdropping, and, judging by the sound of Lenya's dagger slipping loose from its sheath, that she was not particularly welcome in this conversation, she backed up a step or two. "Pardon. I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting." Hastily she turned and began to move down the corridor, stopping only when she ran into a figure in blue and silver armor.

Alistair sighed as he watched Strom thoroughly molest Anora in the hallway, though admittedly his head tilted slightly as he filed away that particular technique for use later. I didn't know dresses had holes there... My goodness, I've never seen her so red. Still... Moving to the doorway, he cleared his throat and ventured, "Ah, Strom? Remember what we talked about before, about-" He faltered as Strom ignored him, pushing the Queen up against the wall and reaching up to untie the strings that held her bodice closed. "Strom!" he protested, a bit more forcefully. "Not in the hallway! You promised!"

The tall Warden pulled away from the now cherry-red and panting human woman and threw a cheeky grin at Alistair. "Well, if you insist." With a grunt, he picked up the woman, who let out only a soft moan, and threw her over his shoulder, charging down the corridor with an enthusiasm his friend only reserved for... well, for drinking and sex. Alistair watched them disappear into a convenient room, trying to ignore the wistful glances of the servants that happened to see them and wincing as Anora started to, as another Cousland put it, shout out the siren song of smexiness.

He was quite unprepared, therefore, when two small hands gripped his waist and pulled him back into the study. His heart skipped a beat for several different reasons when he looked into her green eyes and saw the rage in them. Even as he opened his mouth to explain that he had only received the note about Strom's arrival yesterday himself, she hauled him down into a deep kiss. He found himself pushed back against the desk and flattened on its surface as she dug at his belt, breaking away only when it resisted her efforts. "I'm not going to let that stupid shem'alas get more action than me!" she said fiercely when he started to push himself up.

Maker, this was hot. Still, being inside a room only qualified as not the hallway if the door was closed. "Perhaps we should-"

Lenya finally gave up on the belt - since she had broken the buckle in her frenzied haste - and just moved straight to his buttons. "Shut up, atish'an. Now is not the time to talk."

Alistair let his head fall back as her small hand slipped through the opening in his pants and began exploring. Maker-

"Ooo, that looks totally fun," a bright voice said from the doorway. "The Prince of Hotness and the Serpent Slayer. Or would that, like, be a bad thing for the horizontal tango?"

The hand was quickly removed, to Alistair's vast disappointment, as Lenya vaulted across the room to stand in a bundle of furious energy in front of Strom's fellow traveler. "This is not a party!" she hissed. "And even if it were, you are not invited!"

Alistair scrambled to his feet, trying to restore himself to order, a matter made more difficult when Dailana issued a highly effective pout and crossed her arms under her mostly-exposed bosom. Where does she find those dresses?

Dailana tossed her blond curls back with an exasperated sigh. "You, like, totally need to take a chill pill. It is so not my fault that the losers in Loserville decided that, ya know, Strom was dipping his stick in too many places." She rolled her eyes. "Like riding his dragon is anything but, ya know, totally, awesomely bodacious." Her blue eyes met the elf's green eyes as a small smile played over her mouth. "But then I think the Prince of Hotness-"

"Ah, King, actually," Alistair interjected, then wondered why he had when they both glared at him.

"-King of Smexiness has probs nailed you enough to, like, at least-"

Alistair again broke in desperately as Lenya determinedly reached once more for the dagger she'd discarded earlier. "Dailana, how good to see you, did anyone assign you a room?" he said all in a rush, giving up on complete decency and just trying to separate the two women.

"Do not interfere, dear," Lenya gritted through her teeth.

"Seriously, though, what is your problem?" Dailana idly reached up and started twirling her hair around a perfectly lacquered finger. Incongruously, at that precise moment, the loud feminine cry of, "Maker!" echoed down the hall, accompanied by Strom's very distinctive groan . "It's not like I, ya know, did the beast with two backs with him more than once, yah?" She paused. "Well, more than one night. And day. Or was it a week?" She shrugged. "Whatever. I, like, lost count after the bed broke."

"That is it!" Lenya grated, and before Alistair realized what was going on, she'd launched herself at Dailana, tackling her flat onto the floor of the corridor. The sounds of ripping cloth and angry screeching echoed through the halls as they rolled around throwing epithets at each other. Alistiar dashed into the corridor and was trying to figure out how to best intervene when a hand landed on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Don't tell me you're going to break up that," Strom said with a lustful gleam in his eye. "Ooo, look at that, Dailana's dress got torn just where I thought it would.

He stared at the shirtless man who was still settling his pants around his hips. "What about Anor- Never mind," he grunted, recognizing that satisfied expression. Anora was likely being transferred, completely unconscious, up to her suite to sleep off a full session of Strom Cousland. "And you shouldn't be saying that about Dailana, should you? I mean, I thought she was your cousin or something."

"No, I'm her father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate. She married my cousin, but he's rather busy with that elf he met and fell head over heels for in Kirkwall after the Champion skipped town with that pirate."

"Elf?" Alistair dredged up the memories of his visit to Kirkwall and his meeting with Marian Hawke. "You mean Fenris? The broody one? I remember him." He grinned. "So Isabela got Hawke, did she? Good for her."

"One good piece of ass deserves another," Strom agreed, then shrugged. "Anyway, Dailana really wanted to see you again - after all, it's been a while since the Blight - so, here we are. Oh, and word to the wise: don't sleep with the First Warden's lovers next time you visit Weisshaupt. He seems to take it personally for some reason."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alistair said with a grin, unable to stop the chuckle. Suddenly realizing that the sound of the fight had died down, he glanced at the two women, where a now topless Dailana and a mostly-bare Lenya were slowly realizing that they were the center of attention for quite a few avid onlookers. "Ah, I think a rescue would not be amiss. What if Len accidentally breaks one of Dailana's fingernails?"

Strom immediately sobered. "Maker. I didn't think of that." He grunted. "Where's Amell when you need him?" They immediately stepped forward to begin the extraction process. "I think we could use some good arcane shields right about now."

"Off with Morrigan, wherever she is, I suppose. Haven't gotten a letter from him since he said he was going off to look for her. Speaking of protection," he said as he closed in on Lenya while Strom settled his hands rather cavalierly around Dailana, "I got a letter from Sereda. Being a Paragon Queen seems to suit her well."

Strom extracted Lenya's fingers from their place buried in Dailana's own blond tresses, ignoring the squeals as his other hand wandered rather inappropriately as he did so. "Faren still with her? I always told you Brosca'd be good for her."

"Yeah, he is. Someone has to keep the Deshyrs in line in those situations when a Queen simply can't- Ow!" He winced as Lenya's fist hit him with her surprising strength square in the jaw. "Hey!" he protested.

"It's your fault I'm in this situation in the first place," she grumped, though she grudgingly saw the sense of allowing him to pick her up and shield her from casual scrutiny. "You and your stupid arrangements."

"Look, we've discussed this before," he said in a placating tone of voice as he headed away from the servants and to the suites where she stayed when she was in the Palace. "I have certain obligations-"

"Screw your obligations if it means you get to screw anyone else!" she said fiercely. "I don't care what you did during the Blight when we were all tripping over each other every night!" Her ears flamed a bit red at the memories, but she quickly recovered from the momentary embarrassment as he wisely refrained from even mentioning Darrian Tabris, Alim Surana, immense amounts of dwarven mead and Lenya being incandescently angry at Alistair. "Well, I mostly don't care. But I'm not letting you near her again!"

He chuckled as he paused in front of the door to her suite and carefully reached down to open it without dropping her. "That's not what you said right after the Blight, you know," he chided gently.

Her jaw set stubbornly. "I. Don't. Care. You're my King of Smexiness, by the Dread Wolf, and I mean to keep it that way!"

He laughed out loud as he kicked the door shut behind him and put her on her feet. "You're absolutely adorable, love." Before she could get out of reach, he pulled her closer to him and laved his tongue over her ear, smiling in satisfaction as she shivered in his arms. "Have I told you that lately?"

"N-no," she said. "D-dammit, I told you not to do that when we argue."

"Then let's stop arguing," he murmured, voice husky, "so I can do it again."

Before she could respond, a door he would have sworn was always kept locked suddenly opened, and Strom poked his head in. Alistair's eyes narrowed as he noticed the red marks, presumably left by teeth and nails, that darkened his friend's shoulders and chest. "Why didn't you tell me the baths were so big in the guest quarters, you sly dog? Too bad we didn't have this during the Blight - what epic nights we would have had." His eyes gleamed appreciatively as he looked Lenya's small form up and down.

Before she could retort - though it would have lacked a certain fire, since Alistair's hand was now shamelessly molesting her completely irresistible buttocks, a voice called to them from behind Strom, echoing off the marble walls of the bathing chamber. "So? Are they, like, coming or what?" A giggle could be heard, and Dailana added, "I mean, are they, ya know, going to join us? I suppose coming is, like, unavoidable either way."

Strom licked his lips as his hand ran down his abdomen and disappeared behind the doorframe. "Come on, for old time's sake?" he asked. "Same rules as during the Blight?"

Alistair glanced down at Lenya, then back at Strom. "Let's leave the past in the past." As Strom shrugged and started to close the door leading to the baths, he called out, "Good to see you, though!"

He didn't hear Strom's response - if there was one - as Lenya dragged his face down and claimed him with a searing kiss. The rest of the day blurred away in the heat of her kisses and her body, and Alistair once again learned why he was the luckiest man in Thedas.

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So, not the typical Dailana story. Again, many, many thanks go out to Merilsell for letting me run away with Lenya for a little bit. If you liked it, please drop a line so I can let Lenya know she's popular no matter where she pops up!