Okay, so I'll admit to being a little disappointed by the lack of reviews on Chapter Three, as I really liked it myself. Ah well. Here is the conclusion to Divergence, which I hope goes over better with all of you. Please, if you like it, review. It makes me squee.

Divergence is the first of five parts. The other four parts will be following at about the same pace, one chapter a week. All the parts will carry the 'Other Paths Taken' tag.

Also, we got smutty in this chapter, so rating was moved to 'M'. I don't pretend to be terribly great as smut, so please, be gentle. ^_^ Enjoy!

Chapter Four

He wasn't expecting her to be sweet, not like this. In what was surely a twist of irony, he had been apprehensive about her seeing him. Maker, there were days he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror and scared himself! Having his new wife run screaming from the room would have probably been a poor start to their marriage.

But she hadn't screamed and she hadn't run. Instead, she had accepted what he was far more quickly than he could have hoped and reacted with empathy.

She was nervous, a little awkward, possibly scared and she was putting aside her reservations for him. She was trying—and it broke his heart a little to realize the only man she had been with before tonight was one she had loved—and right at this moment she was being sweet to him.

Taking her shoulders gently, he turned her around. "My turn," he said softly.

The laces took him a moment to figure out. His hands felt clumsy as he tried to see how they untied. As he tugged at them, he laughed softly. "Sorry. I've never actually done this before."

She glanced back over her shoulder at him. "Never?"

"No. Oddly enough, fighting the darkspawn in a dress isn't the best idea ever."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"It's all right. Just as well we never tried. Anora probably never would have helped me get out of something like this anyway." There was silence for a moment, and then she giggled.

Finally, the laces came all the way undone, and the dress fell away from her. The smooth expanse of her back, completely bare of even a breast band, greeted him. She clutched the gown to her before it could fall away to expose her. Holding it against her, she bowed her head, her form trembling suddenly. Giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, he leaned down and kissed the nape of her neck softly. "It's okay. Take your time."

"This is ridiculous. I-I shouldn't be so nervous about this." He continued to rub her shoulders gently. Slowly, she relaxed and let the dress fall away again, sliding her arms free and pushing it down when it caught briefly over her hips. She stepped out of the circle of fabric on the floor, clad only in the lacy scrap of her smallclothes.

He gave her shoulders one last squeeze and then started to turn her back to face him. He kept his voice soft, reassuring. "It's okay. You're okay. Let me look at you."

His eyes widened and he felt his pulse beat heavily in his head and groin as he looked at her. Beneath her gown, she was all pale loveliness. Her breasts were full, tipped with rose-colored nipples that even now looked as if they ached to be touched. A small waist tapered down, and then flared into gently rounded hips.

But she wasn't quite as soft as he was expecting. Her limbs, while long and clean-lined, were also toned. He could see the faint shadows where muscles were slightly outlined. No where near Anora, who resembled some goddess of battle, but an altogether different combination that intrigued him.

But she didn't look up at him, her head still bowed, eyes trained on her toes, It was such a contrast from the imperious, confident queen he had come to know, and Alistair was beginning to suspect that Cailan had taken charge more in the bedroom than he ever had on the throne.

"My brother," he said quietly, "was an idiot."

Her shocked eyes flew up to meet his serious gaze and she flushed. Her mouth worked for a moment, but no words came. Eventually she dropped her eyes and shook her head. "I'm not a child, you know. I know what this is. You don't have to pretend that you want me."

Alistair wanted to throttle Cailan for making a woman like this think that. What exactly did one have to do to make a beautiful think she wasn't desirable? "Believe me, Bre, I am not pretending." He caught one of her hands in his and drew it against the front of his trousers, where she could feel him, hot and hard, through the fabric. For a second time, her eyes darted to his in shock.

"And, I repeat, Cailan was an idiot."

Alistair didn't want any doubts about this. He wanted her, and he was a little shocked at just how badly he did. It's not like there wouldn't be time later, and if she asked him to stop, he would. But, by Andraste, would it be hard. "Bre, are you sure?"

Her fingers twitched against him slightly, and he ground his teeth together as he fought to keep still. Looking up at him, she licked her lips and nodded. "Yes. I-I'm sure." Her words might have been slightly hesitant, but there was a want and need in her voice that was incredibly arousing, and he groaned as he pulled her to him.

She was warm and soft against him as he kissed her again, abandoning the earlier slowness he had used with her. He allowed his hands to roam boldly, teasing and caressing supple flesh. His own desire mounted, answered as she moaned against his mouth as he cupped her breasts, kneading and rolling the hardened peaks between his fingers.

Turning his attention from her mouth, he worked his way down her throat, trailing teasing kisses and nips. He guided her back carefully towards the bed and halted her before she would have moved onto it. Dropping to one knee, he hooked fingers through the sides of her smallclothes and eased them down her legs. She stepped out of them daintily and he tossed them aside.

Maker's mercy, but she was beautiful, he thought. He stayed crouched before her instead, running his fingers along the backs of her calves as he gazed up at her, delighting in her naked glory. Head tilted to the side, Breonna looked down at him, brow furrowed in a questioning look. "Just enjoying the view."

"You…." She shook her head, but smiled, clearly flattered. She cleared her throat nervously. "And you're…overdressed."

Grinning up at her, pleased with her forwardness, he rose to his feet and looked down at himself. "Why, so I am." He held his arms out at his sides. "Care to help me with that?"

Biting her lip, Breonna reached out. She fumbled with the laces for a moment, much like he had with her dress. The light touch of her fingers was maddeningly arousing. She worked the laces free carefully, but paused halfway through to rub her hand against him. He felt a jolt of pleasure at the touch and moaned, grabbing her shoulders. "Okay, let's not do that again until we have my pants off."

Shooting him a wicked little look, she finished working the laces free and tugged his trousers down over his hips. She worked them down his legs, and like she had, he stepped clear of them once they were off. Taking a deep breath, she reached for his smallclothes. He groaned as she brushed against his manhood when she slid the confining material down. Then she stood up quickly. Her cheeks had gone scarlet again, and he chuckled to think that she blushed so easily.

She stole a quick glance down and the tip of her tongue reached out to touch her upper lip. Alistair was not about to ask how different he was from Cailan in this regard, but from her expression, he figured she was at least pleased.

Moving to guide her back onto the bed, she unexpectedly reached out to wrap a hand around his length. He sucked in a sharp gasp as she ran her fingers up and down, lightly exploring him, sending swift stabs of pleasure through his body, until all he wanted was to grab her, push her down on to the bed and take her right then.

"Your pants are off now."

"You little tease," he growled.

"Well, if you want me to stop…."

"No. No, I definitely didn't say that. But why don't we get on the bed first? If you're going to have me at your mercy, I'd rather do it somewhere soft."

They moved backwards another step, and Breonna sat down and scooted back when her legs touched the bed. Alistair followed, sliding along beside her, pushing the blankets out of the way at the same time. She lay back against the pillows, her brief spurt of courage seeming to desert her. He nuzzled against her neck while fingers and hands stroked her arms and sides gently. "Relax."

He worked his way down her throat to her breasts, kissing and licking the soft skin of one while his other hand attended to the other. She gasped when he took her nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the hard tip and suckling. Her hand touched the back of his head and when he used his teeth to scrape gently, she clutched at him, arching into him with a small, surprised sound.

Hiding a grin, he moved over, giving her other breast the same thorough attention. He watched her, noting the way her eyes slid half-shut, the way her lips parted as he pulled gently.

One of his hands was on her hip and he slid it over to the apex of her thighs. She stilled as he ran his fingers through her dark curls, and looked down at him. Her cheeks were flushed, now with passion rather than shyness, and her breathing was heavy. He kissed the side of her breast and smiled at her, silently waiting for her to be ready.

Swallowing hard, she nodded, and he stroked her again, parting her folds, moving his hand more intimately against her. He was delighted when he felt how wet she was. He had been half-afraid that she wouldn't be—that she didn't really want this and that she wouldn't be ready for him. To feel the evidence of her desire, to know that it was for him, only made him want her even more.

He slipped one finger into her, feeling how hot and tight she was, and her hands clutched his shoulders, He held still, letting her adjust. When he felt her relax, he began to move, sliding his finger in and out slowly. She whimpered and he increased the speed of his strokes slightly. He added a second finger and she moaned, her fingernails biting into his skin.

Moving with more surety, his thumb moved up to lightly brush against the nub hidden in the curls at the top of her sex. She cried out when he touched her there, clenching around his fingers and her hips twitching. He did it again, circling that exquisitely sensitive spot with a little more pressure.

He was determined to do everything he could to make this good for her. Setting up a rhythm, he continued to pleasure her. As she finally gave herself over to the sensations, he found himself awed by how willing she was to just give herself over. Her dark hair fanned across the pillow, head thrown back as he wrung needy little sounds from her. There was something humbling about the absolute trust she was placing in him right now.

She was approaching her climax quickly, and with some reluctance, he eased off. Her eyes opened, confused, and he kissed her again as he moved over her.

He parted her thighs with one knee and then settled between them, giving her a chance to become accustomed to him. When long moments passed and he still did nothing, she squirmed against him. "Alistair, please…."

"Ready, Bre?"

"Maker's breath, yes!"

With almost exaggerated carefulness, he entered her, his passage made easier by how ready she was for him. Maker help him, she was so tight and hot and wet, and she felt so good around him. Alistair heard her soft sound of satisfaction as he slid home, and saw her eyes drift shut. Once fully sheathed in her, he had to pause, his body slightly curled as he rested his forehead against her neck.

Running his hand down her thigh, he drew her leg up until she hooked it around his hip. Bracing both of them carefully, he rolled onto his back, holding her on top of him.

With a startled gasp, her eyes flew open and her hands clutched his sides for balance. "What…?"

He settled his hands on her waist. "Trust me," he said, his voice low and rough. He moved his hands up, pushing her more upright. As she moved, she settled on him more fully and he groaned at the combine pressure and angle. An odd expression came over her face.

"Oh. Oh my…."

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth. "I thought you might like that." With the encouraging pressure of his hands, she rolled her hips slightly and he arched his neck back, gasping with pleasure. "Oh, sweet Maker, Bre, do that again."

She did. Breonna seemed a little uncertain of herself at first, working out the best way to brace herself against him. He helped her, offering hands and legs for support, adjusting their positions slightly until she was comfortable. When she did finally found what felt right to her, she began to move with more confidence. Raising herself up and down on him, she found her own rhythm.

Alistair watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, thrusting up to meet her. Her head was thrown back, lips parted as she panted and moaned. Her breasts bounced with each thrust and the sight was too enticing for him to not reach up and fondle her. She moaned, a low and needy sound, and bent forward to return the favor. He hissed in delight as she rolled the tight beads of his nipples between nimble fingers.

She continued to ride him, the sweat-slicked skin of their bodies slipping against each other. He could feel her getting closer, her movements becoming slightly erratic as they both headed for the release they sought. He released lowered one hand to brush over her sex. When he touched her, applied just the right amount of pressure, she came.

"Alistair!" she cried and collapsed against him, shuddering against his chest as her release rocked her. She clenched around him as her pleasure peaked, inner muscles working him, his control fraying at the feel of her on and around him. He thrust once, twice more, hard and deep, driven towards his own release. And then he cried out hoarsely as he finally reached his climax, spilling himself deep inside her.

The sounds of their ragged breathing filled the room as their pulses slowed and returned to normal. He was warm, still damp with sweat that had yet to dry and cool him. On top of him, Breonna felt the same. It was too hot and uncomfortable to lie like this, but Alistair absolutely did not want to either of them to move.

He wrapped his arms around Breonna, keeping her held to his chest, thought not so tightly that she couldn't move if she wanted to. Their position left him inside her, and he was reluctant to break that intimate contact just yet.

Breonna lay quiescent on top of him, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Her form still trembled slightly, and when he felt the tears against his skin, he sighed. Not knowing the exact cause of her grief, he settled for holding her and stroking her hair gently.

"That bad, huh?" he joked, hoping to ease her distress.

Raising herself slightly to look at him, she scrubbed a hand across her eyes and exclaimed, "No! Oh, no, Alistair, that's not it! Not at all!" She cupped his jaw in one hand, running her thumb along his lower lip. "It was wonderful. Better than I'd hoped, actually."

"So I'm exceeding expectations? Good to know."

She giggled. "Very good to know." With a small sound of contentment, she settled back against him, her hands continuing to stroke the side of his face. "It's just that everything's just been so overwhelming, you know? Between the war and the Blight and now all the rebuilding…. It's been a lot to take in. I mean, it was good to get back to work and start putting everything right again, but it's been very stressful.

"And I hate to admit it, but I was more than a little scared of you."

"Scared of me?" Brow furrowed in a frown, he turned to look at her.

"Well, not of you, but of this." Her vague gesture encompassed their intertwined bodies. "You didn't have to do this—be sweet with me like you did." She placed a small kiss on the side of his neck. "You could have just tossed me on the bed and had your way with me. But you didn't. You took the time to be gentle, to reassure me so I wouldn't be frightened."

Frowning, he angled his head so he could see her face. "Did you really expect me to do something like that?

"I…." She looked uncomfortable. "No, I guess not," she answered lamely.

A dark suspicion rose in his mind. Andraste's flaming sword, he did not want to ask this question, but it would be more awkward later and he wanted to understand her. "Bre, did Cailan ever…um, force you?"

"What?" Shock made her face pale. "Oh, Maker's breath, I'm making a mess of this!" She lowered her head back to his shoulder wearily. "No, that isn't what I meant to say at all. With…with Cailan, sometimes what he wanted came first, but he never forced me and he never hurt me, not like that.

"But you were an unknown. I had no idea what you would be like and it made me apprehensive. I was prepared to think the worst of you, if only to stop myself from getting my hopes up and then having them dashed. I was wrong. You cared enough to make sure I wasn't afraid."

"I'm glad to hear that. It always seemed to me like a marriage wouldn't work very well if your wife is scared of you."

"See? That's what I mean. You want to make this work, make us work. That's far more than I could have hoped for." She paused for a moment, swallowing hard.

"I…I want this to work, Alistair. If you haven't noticed yet, you will. Wearing the crown is lonely. There's no one you can ever truly confide in, and if anyone claims to be a friend, you have to look and see what they really want from you. I've missed being able to be myself. I don't know if it can ever be more, but I want us to be friends, at least. Do you think that's possible?"

Running his hand down her back to give her bottom a squeeze, he said, "I think we're already a little bit beyond that, don't you?"

She laughed and tweaked his ear. "You know what I mean. I mean friends—someone to talk to and laugh with and even yell at when we're having a bad day. Can we do that?"

"Yes, I think we can. I'd like that. And while we're on the subject…." He gave her another squeeze and then ran his hand down her thigh. "There are some other things we can do."