An Alternate Perspective from Chapter 2: Seduction

Alistair stirred, momentarily disoriented. He remembered he had wandered into the trees to meditate. He must have fallen asleep. Cursing himself for his lack of attention, he made to get up when he heard a noise nearby.

Kallian's voice drifted through the trees, heavy with…lust. "What are you doing?"

Zevran's voice responded. "I intend to take you here and now, unless you object."

"Show me." The breathiness of her voice drew a reaction from Alistair's body, a lurch in his belly and a pull in his groin. He tried not to groan out loud.

Shortly thereafter, Kallian gasped audibly and there was no need to try to imagine what was happening, it was plainly clear. Alistair rubbed his hair and face with a calloused hand, wondering what to do. He wasn't wearing his armor, just his padded leggings, a tunic and leather boots. Given what both Kallian and Zevran had taught him over the months, he might be able to move without drawing much attention to himself…His sword was on the ground nearby…

"Oh, Zevran! Yes, yes!"

Alistair had to get away from them; he couldn't stand the thought of that assassin touching her, taking her as his own. He felt guilty immediately, having no claim on Kallian, but he had hoped…He had hoped for something that would not come to pass, he had to accept that, but this…this was far too much, far too soon. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the sounds of their passion, but it was impossible. No amount of Templar training could help; they were both rather…vocal. He decided he could try to use that to his advantage and waited until she was shouting out again. He shifted slowly onto his belly, as quietly as he could, the moss beneath him making this easier, and looked through the underbrush toward the river's edge.

There they were, naked, caught in a patch of mottled morning light. Zevran had lifted Kallian up to his waist and was bucking into her with a steady rhythm. Kallian's legs were wrapped around him, her ankles linked together and bouncing off his ass with his thrusts. Arms around his neck, she arched away from Zevran and tipped her head back, panting and making whimpering sounds. What they said about elves was true; they were…beautiful. Sunlight glittered on Kallian's auburn curls, her pale skin seemed to glow, and her delicate features were flushed with passion. Her perfect breasts bounced against Zevran's chest; his fingers dug into her buttocks, and she looked…enthralled. Zevran was a well-toned and muscled specimen of an elf, his darker skin tone giving him a much healthier look than the rest of their party members. His muscles rippled with every move he made and his hair shimmered as it shifted back and forth in the sun. Alistair found himself rather impressed with the man's strength. Kallian wasn't heavy by any means, but it had to be awkward to make love standing. They were perfect together, fitting together as though they were made to. Alistair loomed over his Warden sister by a head and shoulders at least, a huge hulking mass of bulk in comparison to her lithe body. Seeing them together like this made him realize how mismatched he was for her.

Alistair couldn't take his eyes off them and his face flushed with shame as he felt himself harden with desire. If he were another kind of man, he might have given in to the urges that had plagued him since his Joining, the burning need to seek…that kind of gratification. Instead, he carried himself like a gentleman; he resisted temptation and trained, prayed and meditated. This, however, was most definitely not helping. Mixed emotions tore through him. A virginal Chantry-raised man such as he was, he was mildly horrified to see a couple having sex, never mind who they were. His heart broke the more he realized that he had never had a chance with this woman. At the same time, he was aroused. He cursed himself for seeking solitude here of all places, but realized he couldn't have known they would come here to bathe.

It was too late for him to try to slip away unseen; they had shifted with their movement and one or the other of them would see him. At that moment, they both shouted out. Alistair's shame was overshadowed by fascination with their reaction to the moment of climax. Zevran went rigid, his buttocks and legs clenched tightly, his back arching as he thrust into Kallian one last time and held them together. Kallian's head was thrown back, her breasts shaking as she shuddered with pleasure. The look on her face was one of bliss, if he had to define it. The two of them were damp with sweat from their exertions and they practically glittered in the morning sun. They stayed that way for a moment before beginning to relax.

Zevran was laughing as they tried to steady themselves and walk on trembling legs. "Now we must bathe again, beauty, but this time I shall dry myself off lest you tempt me again!"

"Would that be such a terrible thing?" Kallian's voice drifted away as she slipped back into the river.

"No, it would not, but what will the others think?"

Alistair heard the sound of splashing water, and then the couple was back out of the water, drying off.

"I knew this would happen eventually. I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable." Zevran's tone was light and teasing as he dressed.

"Here I thought I seduced you." Kallian shot back playfully.

They continued talking, but Alistair shut them out and soon enough they were walking back to camp. He was still aroused, his erection pressing into the ground beneath him. Shifting slightly, another flush of shame coming over him, he slid his hand into his leggings and gripped his manhood. Sliding his hand up and down his length, he closed his eyes, thoughts shifting back to the scene he has just witnessed. It wasn't long before the image of Kallian and Zevran, so beautiful, held together in the most intimate of embraces drove him over the edge as he slid his thumb along the tip of his penis. His own body went rigid, legs tensing and buttocks clenching as he spilled his seed into his hand.

Tears of shame and hurt in his eyes, he eventually made his way to the river to clean himself up before returning to camp. He would meditate and go through his training forms and try to accept Kallian's relationship with the assassin. She deserved some happiness; if she wasn't meant to be with him, he could give her that much.

A/N: Thank you to Bioware for the characters and the few lines I've pinched for the scene. I started this, thought it would end one of three ways (Alistair crying, Alistair masturbating or Alistair doing both) and figured that would be sad and not sexy, or even OOC for the Alistair I've created. And then a certain pervy, elf-lovin' someone I know said I should write it anyway, so here it is. Less racy than the last chapter, and perhaps a bit sad, but done nonetheless.