Disclaimer: Bioware owns them, I just play in the sandbox.
A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting! I've been super busy with planning my wedding the last few weeks and it hasn't allowed time for much else.
"I'm not going to pretend to like this, because I don't," Alistair says succinctly as they stand before the campfire, a little ways off from their companions.
"Are you still furious with me?" Arleigh asks quietly.
"I...no. I can't say I'm happy with you, but... I understand your reasoning; and I guess you're right. The Theirin line must be preserved, even if I don't take the throne. We can't allow Anora to put her future child on the throne; she's a heartless bitch."
"I agree with that," Arleigh softly laughs. "If the battle at Ostagar had just been a fortnight later, she wouldn't even be on the throne anymore. Might have made this whole situation quite a bit easier. At least we wouldn't be on the brink of a civil war."
Alistair's throat tightens at the mention of Ostagar. He can't help but dwell on the loss of his father-figure, Duncan, not to mention all the other Grey Wardens he considered brothers. "It doesn't matter; what's done is done," he croaks before clearing his throat. "All we can do is move forward."
"Does this mean you have truly considered my proposition?"
There is a long pause before Alistair responds. "Yes, I have," he says quietly. "And I accept your proposal. I'll do what's best for the nation. Duty, and all that. Just don't think to make me king on top of this."
"No promises, Alistair. I too will do what is best for the nation."
Alistair looks away, finding something in the nearby trees utterly fascinating. When he finally sweeps his gaze back to Arleigh, he fixes her with a stare that pierces to her very soul.
"So how do we do this? I mean, do we have to…right now?"
She gives a short laugh in response. "Oh Maker, no. I just finished my cycle so it'll be another three weeks or so before I can conceive again. I'm not saying we can't erm, practice, but we don't, uh, have to. You know. Awkwardness, and all that."
"I don't want my child to be a bastard."
"You can raise him or her however you like, Alistair. I would like to be involved in the child's life, but I understand if…"
"No, you don't understand. I don't want to do this unless we're married. I know what it's like to grow up the King's bastard and I refuse to force that fate upon my own children. That's part of the reason I've never…"
"Never what?"
"Never mind."
"Alistair…since you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…?"
He blushes the most astounding shade of red before mumbling through a conversation that has something to do with lampposts and licking and the fact that he's never…never never. Of course his counterpart is floored by this realization. And then she's determined that he does need practice because otherwise, well, the night of conception will just be…awkward.
"Alistair, are you sure about this?" she asks after a few moments of silence.
"Yes, Arleigh. I want to make you my wife before…anything happens."
"I don't suppose they have a Chantry in Orzammar? We're weeks away from anything else."
"Dwarves with a Chantry? Somehow I doubt that."
"We could always do a hearth marriage."
"No, it needs to be on record that our child was born within wedlock, for the validity of succession."
"Morrigan says you're a bit dim-witted, but you're certainly smarter than you look," Arleigh says with a smile.
"Well, erm, thank you, I guess."
"When I first met you, I thought you were as clueless as Cailan, but the last few weeks you've been slowly proving me wrong. You're a good man, Alistair. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
He blushes again in response before clearing his throat. "Well, just don't come to expect too much of me. I have to keep up appearances, you know."
Nearly two weeks later they arrive in the massive city built under the stone mountain. As luck would have it, there was a brother of the Chantry in Orzammar, and he was attempting to get a branch established there. After some finagling with the Shaperate, the Wardens secured the right for there to be a Chantry set up in the underground city. The brother was practically giddy at the opportunity to perform his first marriage under the eyes of the Maker.
At Leliana's insistence, Arleigh went shopping with the girls for a wedding dress (although she insisted it be kept simple so that she could wear it again for practical reasons) and Sten made sure Alistair polished his armor thoroughly. Bodahn located a metalsmith to fashion two wedding bands complimentary in style.
A few days after arriving in the empire of the dwarves, and a mere two weeks after the Warden's initial conversation regarding this arrangement, the wedding is due. Alistair and Arleigh can barely speak to each other through their nerves, but Arleigh's pursuance of duty and Alistair's tendency to do as he is told gets them to the altar and before the stout dwarven Chantry brother.
"Maker's breath but you're tall!" is the first expression out of his mouth.
"Well, at least we won't ever forget this day," Alistair says under his breath, causing a small giggle to loose from his fellow Warden.
They hold hands as is customary, Alistair having forgone his gauntlets. He feels just how much his soon-to-be-wife is shaking despite her calm outer appearance and gives her hands a gentle squeeze in reassurance. She weakly smiles at him before taking a deep breath to recite her vows. Alistair says his and they exchange the rings under the blessing of the Maker.
Their companions give polite applause (except for Leliana, who wholeheartedly cheers them on) as they exit the small makeshift chapel and head for the room they booked in the tavern.
Alistair faces away from his bride as he slowly removes his armor with shaking hands. She's done this before. What if I'm terrible? What if she laughs at me? What if I just don't...compare to the other men? When he's down to his thin linen trousers and loose shirt, he turns back around, squeaking in surprise when he finds Arleigh watching him intently.
"Have you been watching me the whole time?"
"You're my husband now, I have the right to do so."
"Still it's a bit...weird...don't you think?"
"You can watch me undress whenever you like, Alistair."
"I..." Unbidden, thoughts of Arleigh slowly peeling off layers of clothing flash through his mind, causing his face to flush. He shakes his head to clear his mind. "That's not the point. Look, you're not even undressed yet."
"I was waiting for you to turn around. Help me with the lacing on the corset?"
Again, more images of Arleigh flash through Alistair's mind, this time revealing her soft shoulders and the tightly toned muscle along her upper back. He clears his throat again before squeaking, "Yes, I suppose I can do that. You are my wife, after all. It's proper. Wife. Wifewifewife."
"Are you alright?"
"I'm just trying to get used to this. Wife."
"Husband," she responds, "please undo the lacing so we can get on with things."
His fingers clumsily pick at the back of the corset, but he eventually loosens it enough that Arleigh can release herself from it. She turns back towards him as her lungs fill with air.
"Your turn," she says softly, running her hands across the skin just above his waistband, under his shirt. Her feather-light touches tickle and tease the skin there, causing Alistair's breath to hitch. She carefully slides her hands up his body across the smooth planes of his chest. He shudders at the contact, the gentle caresses igniting a small flame inside of him. His eyes drift shut as she slowly pushes his shirt up. He raises his arms and pulls it off all the way, as Arleigh is too short to do it herself.
At the sight of his corded muscle reaching across his abdomen, up across his strong, broad shoulders, and down his massive arms, Arleigh's eyes darken with an emotion that Alistair can only figure is desire.
"You're a very handsome man, husband."
"Well, thank you." He gives a smug grin in response before turning his attention to the dress baring her collarbone and giving a display of her cleavage that only he would see due to his height and proximity to her body. The flame increases within him. He slowly reaches up and traces the line of her collarbone; Arleigh shivers in response.
"Kiss me, Alistair."
Nervousness flares up in his belly and his mouth suddenly goes dry. "Now?"
Her brows wrinkle together as she responds, "Yes, now, I would like you to at least kiss me before you see me naked."
Alistair's face flushes once again as he slowly swallows. He carefully leans down towards her waiting lips and just barely grazes them with his own. "There, I kissed you."
She growls in irritation before grabbing his head with both hands and pulling him down to firmly meet her lips. His eyes widen in surprise, but she merely continues. Her lips work against his in a very pleasant manner (he can't help but admit that) before her tongue darts out to trace the edge of his lower lip. She gives a small nip and his lips part in surprise. She takes advantage of the opportunity and slips her tongue past his lips to meet his.
He groans in response, the desire pooling low in his belly. His hands slide up her sides of their own accord before settling on her upper back, pulling her body closer to his. Arleigh gives a gentle moan as Alistair begins to her back. This only serves to stoke the desire building within him.
He slides his hands along her shoulders, slipping her dress off, causing it to pool around her feet. At the sight of her in just her small clothes his eyes darken with lust. He scoops her up in his arms and carries her to the bed. He lays down beside her, them facing each other. He traces a finger across her jawline while saying, "You're beautiful, Arleigh. I'm afraid I'm not the man you deserve."
"Don't say that. I made this choice and I'm willing to accept whatever comes."
She quickly rids him of his pants and pulls him atop her, skin pressing against skin. She kisses him feverishly, it having been too long since she was last with a man. She guides his hands to remove her of her smallclothes as he visibly trembles the whole way.
"Relax, Alistair. You'll do fine."
He nods as he stares down at her pert breasts, begging to be touched. He slides his fingers around the outside and underside, taking care to avoid her nipple. He hesitates and looks up in his wife's eyes.
"Oh for the Maker's sake!" she exclaims as she takes his hand and practically slaps it against her, forcing him to cup her breast entirely. He sharply inhales as he slowly proceeds to explore the graceful mounds. Arleigh shivers as his thumb grazes across her nipple. "Good, that's...good," she sighs.
The manly part of Alistair feels satisfaction at her response and it emboldens him to continue his exploration of her. His hand trails up the outside of her thigh, making small circles as he goes. Arleigh's eyes pop open and she desperately reaches up to him for a kiss, which he reciprocates.
She quickly removes his smalls, unable to take her eyes off his impressive and growing manhood. "Oh my," she sighs.
That manly part of Alistair swells again with satisfaction. So he does compare to other men, indeed; or surpasses them.
His head falls back in pleasure as she reaches down to take him in hand, gently stroking him, feeling his member harden more under her touch. After a few minutes of teasing, Alistair slides a hand up the inside of her thigh, trajectory aimed at the apex, covered by dark curls.
She gasps in surprise as his fingers lightly tease her. She knows his feels her already prolific wetness. When did she become so turned on by a man she barely knows? Oh, that's right, when she saw just how beautiful his body was underneath all the clothing, and when she found that he is even more gentle than she expected from a first-timer. And gentle in a good way. The way that almost speaks of love.
Finally Arleigh is ready to move on with their introduction to each other's bodies. She guides him between her legs and he poises himself at her entrance, just enough to tease her again, even though that was not his intention. At his hesitation she looks up at him questioningly.
"I'm afraid of hurting you," he explains softly.
"This is hardly my first time, Alistair," she laughs lightly. "You don't need to be afraid."
Concern crosses his face as he slightly pulls back from her. "Do you have someone waiting for you?"
"No, I don't," she croaks, tears beginning to well in her eyes at the thought of her lost love.
"If you're sacrificing him for the sake of duty, Arleigh, then I should never have married you."
"He's dead, Alistair!" she exclaims, tears beginning to streak down the sides of her face and into her hair.
"My brother, then," he says resignedly.
"No, not Cailan; never Cailan," she replies softly.
"Then who?" he asks as he climbs off her to rest at her side, turning her to face him. The fire in his belly cools as he understands how distraught she is.
"Ro. Roland Gilmore, a knight under my father's service. We were deeply in love, but my parents did not approve. I kept begging him to run away with me so we could marry, but he insisted on finishing his service to my father first."
"If you were in love with him, then why did you agree to marry Cailan?"
"That was my mother's idea. She thought the idea of a king would wash away any feelings I had for Ro. She was wrong. I fought with her everyday over the idea. But after Howe...I had nothing to live for. There were no feelings any longer impeding my marriage to Cailan. When Ro died, I just didn't care anymore."
"Just like you don't care now."
"No, this is different. At least you and I...we have more of a connection than I ever had with Cailan. You're twice the man Cailan ever was, Alistair, and I admire that. Marrying you might be a duty, but it's not a bad one." She leans in towards him and kisses him again, softly at first but quickly growing feverish.
He tastes the salt of her tears on her lips and carefully returns the kiss, knowing she needs comfort. When she pushes him on his back and straddles his waist, however, he knows he needs to stop this. This isn't how their first should be, not like this. He wants her to want him, not be just seeking escape from her memories. He gently lifts her off his body and sets her to the side, carefully gathering her in his arms.
"What? Why?" she asks through the few remaining tears.
"This isn't how I want it to be. You need comfort right now, not sex. I care about you too much to let you sacrifice your emotions like this."
She looks at him wide-eyed. "You...care about me?"
"Yes, of course I do. We've...grown to be friends since Ostagar, and you're the only remaining family I have now. I wish to see you happy, Arleigh, no matter what it takes me to do."