So, I was about halfway through this chapter and had just gotten to the smut when I got a little stuck. I wanted to do something a little different this time, something that would emphasize how much Zev and Alistair's relationship had changed over the length of the story and how much trust they had built. But I couldn't think of what to do. And once again, the kmeme came to my rescue when someone asked for a fic about "edging." For those of you not familiar with the term, I'll give you a quick definition: Coming nearly close to climax or ejaculation,then purposefully stopping sexual stimulation in order to delay the same, so that the ultimate climax will be more intense.

This is probably the most hardcore thing I've posted on ffnet, though it's still pretty tame. Even so, if you feel that it might be a little more than you're comfortable with, I put a line break between the story and the smut. If you decide to quit reading when you get to it, don't worry, you won't be missing any plot.


The blade of the greatsword slid through the air and for the first time in over a year Alistair felt a sense of real peace. This was what he had been waiting for, what he had been working towards since that cursed night at Ostagar. Anora cried out as the blood of her father splattered her face, and the breaths of a hundred people were finally released.

Mere moments after Loghain's lifeless body hit the floor, Arl Eamon stepped forward. "So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's place on the throne." Immediately, the hall rang with voices alternately crying words of protest and support. The moment Alistair had been dreading all his life was here, and still he wasn't sure what to do.

He watched in silence as Anora began arguing with Eamon; Natia stood nearby, proclaiming loudly exactly what she thought of both of them. Alistair couldn't help but smile at that. His sister-in-arms had never been afraid to speak her mind—it was one of the things that made her such a good leader.

Silence reigned in the hall once again, and Alistair noticed that everyone was watching Natia. He knew there was not a soul alive in this room who believed that Eamon was acting altruistically when he asked Natia to be the deciding voice of who would rule Fereldan. It was one of the few things Loghain had been right about: Eamon wanted a puppet on the throne. But it would not be Natia that pulled the strings, it would be the Arl himself.

Alistair recalled Zevran's advice, given the day after he and Natia had escaped from Fort Drakon. Do what you want to do, rather than what you have to do. He cast his eyes around the room and felt a sense of peace settle inside him at the sight of those familiar amber orbs watching him.

Natia turned to him, and he knew what she was going to ask of him. They had spoken of it—or, rather argued about it—for weeks. She would not name him king unless he agreed to it, but even after all of their conversations he had no answer for her. He had been honest with Zevran when he said he didn't know what to do. But it seemed that a part of him—hidden deep down, perhaps—had known all along what the right decision was.

Casting one last glance at Zevran, Alistair took a deep breath and stepped forward. Before Natia had a chance to open her mouth, to ask the same question she had already asked dozens of times, he was speaking. "Anora will be queen."

"What?" Eamon looked at Alistair as if he had lost his mind, and he heard Anora let out a tiny noise of triumph.

Alistair ignored Eamon's cries of protest and strode forward to kneel before Anora. Bowing his head, he tried to recall the fealty ceremonies he had watched as a child living with the Arl.

"I, Alistair Thierin, son of Maric Thierin, do hereby swear my loyalty to Anora, rightful Queen and ruler of Ferelden. I renounce all claims to the throne for myself and any heirs I may have. Never will I bear arms against Her Majesty or Ferelden. This I do swear."

His head still bowed, he tried to hide his growing smile. Let Eamon try to get him out of that one! The entire Landsmeet had heard his oath—he could not go back on it, even if he wanted to.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Anora straighten her back, a lifetime of being a noblewoman overriding her obvious desire to strut. "I accept your oath of fealty, Alistair son of Maric, and bid you to aid me as a Grey Warden in defeating the Blight."

It was a wise statement for her to make at that moment. By emphasizing his role as a Grey Warden, Anora was reassuring her father's enemies that she did believe the son of Maric was still important to Ferelden—which would hopefully keep her from alienating those that had sided with him and Natia.

Alistair stood up shakily, trying his best to avoid everyone's looks. He only half-listened to Anora's further speech rallying the nobles and naming Natia as the new leader of her army. Alistair was once again in the shadows, for which he was grateful.

When Anora finally finished, she turned to Natia—clearly wanting her to give a speech of her own. Their diminutive leader—once a Casteless dwarf from Dust Town that had fought for scraps of food to stay alive—looked distinctly uncomfortable under the stares of so many important people.

She cleared her throat and said words that would most likely not be put into one of Leliana's ballads. "Sod it all," she said gruffly, "let's go kick some arse!"

He heard a strangled cough off to his side and turned to see Zevran shaking with barely suppressed laughter. Zevran caught his eye and tipped him a small wink.

Finally, the formalities were over with and the gathered assembly began to leave. Before Alistair could follow suit, Arl Eamon was there at his side.

"Just what exactly do you think you are doing?" the elderly man hissed.

Alistair merely smiled at him. "Being selfish, for the first time in my life. It's actually quite a nice feeling." He bit back a laugh at the look of outrage on Eamon's face.

Flashing a sympathetic smile at Natia, who was currently being talked at by several nobles at once, Alistair went over to where Zevran was waiting for him.

"Eamon is never going to forgive you, caro." His eyes were glittering with amusement.

Alistair shrugged, not really worried. "I can live with that."

"So, you are leaving your fellow Warden to deal with the wolves by herself?"

Alistair chuckled. "I'd be more worried about them than about her. She's way scarier than any of them could ever be."

Zevran laughed. "That is true."

Alistair flung an arm over Zevran's shoulders, heedless of the many people nearby. He felt liberated, now that his worst fears had not come to pass, and it seemed as if a new life was ahead of him. No longer would he try to hide who he was or who he cared about. His self-consciousness was still there, of course, but he was determined to ignore it.

Zevran, of course, had no such hindrances. He wrapped his arms around Alistair's neck and pulled him down for a light kiss. "So, we are victorious against Loghain at last. How do you feel, amore?"

Alistair took some time to think before responding to his lover's question. "Relieved. We've still got the Blight to defeat, but I feel…lighter. As if a burden that's been sitting there for ages is finally gone. Does that make sense?"

Zevran nodded. "It does. You are finally free, are you not? If you and Natia succeed in defeating the Archdemon you can do whatever you wish."

Alistair grinned. "Whatever I wish. I like the sound of that."

Zevran grinned slyly. "I think, amore, that this calls for a celebration."

Alistair grinned as he wrapped his arms around Zevran's lean waist. "Hmm…what did you have in mind?"

"Well…" Zevran's voice was practically a purr, "we could raid Eamon's wine cellar, find a nice vintage. And then," he shrugged, "I am sure we could find something to do."

Alistair felt a tiny shiver roll through him. It would never have occurred to him in his youth that he would grow up to become so…so wanton, but Zevran always proved to be too irresistible. "How could I pass up an offer like that?"

Zevran drew away from the warrior and took his hand, practically dragging him out of the Landsmeet Chamber. The journey back to Eamon's estate seemed to take ages, especially since Zevran kept "accidentally" bumping against Alistair.


By mutual unspoken agreement they decided to forgo the bottle of wine and headed straight to Alistair's bedchamber. The door barely closed behind them before Zevran was undoing the buckles on Alistair's plate armor.

"You know," Zevran grunted, fighting with a particularly troublesome clasp on Alistair's breastplate, "this would be so much easier if you were a rogue. Leather armor is much simpler to remove."

"I like the plate armor," Alistair pouted, trying to help, "it's shiny. And it keeps me from getting a sword in the gut when I'm trying to protect your arse."

Zevran finally succeeded in getting the breastplate off and set to work on the greaves. "I have told you a hundred times, amore, you do not need to protect me when we are fighting together. My arse is just fine."

Alistair grinned cheekily. "I'll say."

Zevran growled at him, but his sparkling eyes betrayed his mirth. "Do not distract me, I am trying to work here."

Alistair kept grinning, but stood in silence while Zevran worked to get him naked. Finally, mercifully, Alistair was down to nothing but his smallclothes. It was on the tip of his tongue to chastise Zevran for being less than careful in the discarding of his armor, but he decided against it. The two of them had not been intimate since before Fort Drakon, and both men were eager for this reconnection.

Alistair placed his hands on Zevran's slim waist, still clad in leather. "So, do I get to return the favor, now?" He asked, an impish smile on his face.

Zevran grinned at him. "Would you not rather watch, amore?"

Alistair looked at him hungrily and nodded. Zevran laced his hands behind Alistair's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Drawing back, Zevran kept his gaze focused on Alistair as he began unbuckling his own armor. Alistair leaned against the door and watched greedily as more and more of Zevran's tanned skin became exposed. Maker, but Zevran was beautiful.

Once Zevran was stripped down to his smallclothes Alistair wrapped his arms around him once again, and pressed their bodies together. He dipped his head down and brushed his lips against Zevran's.

"Since this is a special occasion," Zevran grinned slyly, pulling back enough to look in Alistair's eyes, "perhaps you would like to try something a little…different."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Different?"

Zevran nipped at Alistair's earlobe, causing the man to hitch in a breath. "You will like it, amore," he purred, "I promise."

Alistair looked at him a little warily. When Zevran got that look it meant he had something devious on his mind. But Alistair had come to trust him over the last few months, completely, and if Zevran said he'd like something then he had no doubt it would be worth placing himself in the rogue's hands.

He smiled at his lover. "Whatever you want, Zev. I trust you."

Zevran's eyes softened just a bit at that, before his usual lascivious grin returned. "Up on the bed with you, then."

Alistair obeyed, stretching out on the soft mattress. If there was one thing he'd truly miss about staying at the arl's estate here in Denerim, it was the down-filled mattresses and pillows. Pure heaven to a group that had spent the better part of a year living in tents.

He watched as Zevran rummaged around in his pack, curious as to what the man had planned. He was surprised when Zevran pulled out what appeared to be several sashes, such as the ones that mages wore around their waists to bind their robes closed.

Understanding finally dawned. "You're going to tie me up? Hah! I should have known." Zevran merely smiled as he crossed the room to the bed, sashes in hand. "Although," Alistair continued, "weren't you always talking about using ropes?"

Zevran climbed onto the bed and straddled Alistair's legs. "Ah, yes,ropes are very good to use. But, as this is your first time playing such games, you will find these to be more comfortable." One last twinge of nervousness ran through Alistair's body before he finally gave himself over to his lover.

After shucking his breeches, he stretched back out on the bed. He watched as Zevran used the sashes to first bind each of his wrists and then his ankles to the bedposts. "You know," Zevran said, casually, "ever since I first saw this bed I have wanted to do this to you." He grinned at Alistair. Having finished he looked over his lover's prone and bound form. "You are a gorgeous sight, mi amore."

Alistair blushed at that, still not used to Zevran's constant words of praise and affection. Even after being together for several months, Alistair still didn't quite understand how Zevran could find him, Alistair, so attractive. But there was no mistaking the look of desire on Zevran's face as he ran his eyes over Alistair's body.

Zevran crawled back onto the bed and seated himself next to Alistair's prone form. "You have been tense for many weeks now, my Warden" he purred, as he ran his fingers along Alistair's chest. "I intend to help you…release that."

He straddled Alistair's hips again as he bent down to nip at the warrior's neck. "But in order for you to fully enjoy the release, I must create even more tension."

Alistair swallowed nervously. "Wh-what does that mean?" He did trust Zevran, of course, but he was always a bit unsure when his lover took him into new territory.

Zevran just grinned and began kissing his way down the warrior's body. Alistair squirmed a bit when Zevran reached his hips, the rogue's feather light kisses tickling his skin.

Alistair groaned as Zevran took his cock into his mouth, swallowing him to the hilt in one quick motion. Zevran teased him with his tongue as he worked his mouth up and down Alistair's erection, causing the warrior to moan with pleasure. Alistair could feel his balls tightening as he neared release and almost cried out in frustration as Zevran pulled back and sat up straight.

Alistair opened eyes that had been pinched shut. "Zev, what—?"

"Hush, caro, all in good time." He stretched out a hand and began pinching one of Alistair's nipples, rolling the bud between his fingers. Alistair pulled at the sashes binding his wrists, wanting desperately to pull the rogue down into a kiss.

Zevran, who seemed quite adept at reading Alistair's desires, bent down and pressed his lips against the other man's, flicking his tongue against Alistair's lips until he parted them with a moan. Taking the invitation, Zevran thrust his tongue into Alistair's mouth, kissing him deeply.

He felt Zevran's slender fingers close around his cock and begin stroking. A slow, steady rhythm surely meant to torture him. As if he hadn't been doing that enough already. Once again he felt himself nearing the precipice, and once again Zevran stopped.

But he didn't pull away from Alistair's body this time at least. Lips still locked in a passionate kiss, Zevran reached down between Alistair's legs and ran one finger around the tight ring surrounding his entrance. Alistair gasped at the sensation.

Zevran moved his kisses to Alistair's jaw line and then his neck, gently nipping at the skin as he waited for Alistair's breathing to slow. As soon as Alistair began to regain his senses, Zevran closed his fingers around him once again.

One hand still lazily stroking his erection, Zevran cupped Alistair's sac with the other, alternating each stroke with a gentle squeeze. Alistair heard a tiny sob and realized it had come from him.

"Zevran, please," Alistair whimpered. Every muscle in his body was tensed, every nerve singing with frustration. His eyes were shut tight, all of his senses focused on the movement of Zevran's skilled hands.

Zevran leaned down for another kiss, the rhythm of his hands never faltering. "What is it that you want, my Warden?"

Alistair opened his eyes and looked at Zevran intently. "I want to come," he panted. "Please."

Zevran's eyes were burning with lust. His lips twisted into a sly grin. "No," he replied.

Alistair blinked at him, not quite comprehending. "Zev, I don't—" he let out a loud groan as Zevran gave his cock a tight squeeze before releasing it. The other hand was still massaging his sac, however.

"I told you, amore," Zevran purred, "the more tension, the sweeter the release." He rubbed a hand up and down Alistair's chest, soothing him. "Your patience will be well rewarded," he smirked, "eventually."

Eventually? Oh, Maker. Shivers ran through Alistair's body as the realization struck him. He was truly at Zevran's mercy. His release was literally in the hands of the other man, and there was nothing Alistair could do about it. If Zevran wanted to tease him all night, he could.

He noticed for the first time that Zevran was still wearing his smallclothes. He also noticed the large bulge straining the front of them. Desire surged through him. Maybe he couldn't have release, but surely Zevran wouldn't deny himself.

Alistair's eyes met Zevran's once again. "Can I…can I taste you?"

Zevran raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. He traced a finger along Alistair's jaw. "You wish to taste me?" Alistair nodded, licking his lips hungrily.

Zevran looked at him with an equal amount of hunger before twisting around to remove his smallclothes. He then crawled up Alistair's body until he was straddling the man's upper chest. With one hand braced against the tall headboard he cupped the back of Alistair's head with the other, bringing his head level with the rogue's groin.

Alistair could feel the throbbing in his own cock as he wrapped his lips around the tip of Zevran's. He groaned softly as Zevran rocked his hips just slightly, encouraging Alistair to take more of him into his mouth.

Alistair sucked at Zevran's cock greedily, his own intense need driving him to pleasure his lover as much as he could. Zevran's moans were punctuated by a few curses spoken in Antivan, revealing to the warrior that he was successful in his endeavors.

Zevran's hips began to thrust faster as he neared his climax, and Alistair moaned at the sensation. With one last, loud moan Zevran released into Alistair's mouth, who swallowed every drop with relish.

After several moments, Zevran pulled back. "You are full of surprises, amore," he murmured before kissing the warrior. Alistair smiled around the kiss, pleased with himself.

Careful not to brush against Alistair's painfully hard cock, Zevran shimmied further down his body. He placed a firm kiss on the tip of Alistair's erection before nipping at the inside of his thigh. He ran his fingers lightly up and down the warrior's shaft, his touch teasing. Alistair moaned at the renewed contact.

When Zevran finally closed his fist around Alistair's cock he couldn't help but thrust his hips up into the rogue's hand. Zevran began stroking him in earnest, his grip firm and his strokes harsh. But every time Alistair got close he backed off. A few squeezes, a pull or two, and then he would let go. Over and over and over again. There was never a moment when Zevran wasn't touching him, however. Whether it be a tweak at his nipple or a finger stroking his entrance—he was always in contact with Alistair's skin in one way or another.

Alistair's toes were curled into the sheets and it took all of his self control to keep from tugging harshly at his restraints. He was sobbing openly now, begging Zevran to please, please let him come. His mind was empty of everything except the pleasure and the need that Zevran was coaxing from the man with his hands.

Zevran's voice was soothing as he whispered words of encouragement to his lover, rubbing gently at his chest as he stroked his cock once again. The excruciating ecstasy went on for what felt like hours. Countless times Alistair teetered on the precipice of orgasm only to be denied each and every time.

His voice was hoarse from the groans and pleas that were issuing from his lips, and his mouth felt dry and parched.

An indeterminate time later, Zevran stopped his ministrations completely, moving both hands to cup Alistair's cheeks. "You have been so good, mi amore, so brave. Do you wish to have your reward now?"

"Yes, Zev!" Alistair sobbed, "Oh, Maker, please, please, I can't stand it anymore!" His eyes were locked with Zevran's, and he knew the desperation he was feeling was etched on his face.

Zevran grasped Alistair's cock for the hundredth time that night, it seemed. Only this time his strokes were firmer and faster than ever before. After suckling the index finger of his other hand, Zevran reached down and pressed the digit into Alistair's entrance. He timed the thrust of his finger with the stroke of his hand, pushing deeper inside until he was rubbing against that sensitive spot deep inside.

Alistair screamed as the force of his orgasm exploded through his entire body. Wave after wave of ecstasy pulsed through him, as every single muscle tensed and his limbs pulled at the sashes around his wrists and ankles. What seemed like an endless flow of come shot from his cock, coating his stomach and Zevran's hand.

Tears were streaming down his face as he gasped desperately for air; he felt physically and emotionally drained. He barely noticed when Zevran used a cloth to clean him up, nor when the rogue released him from his bonds.

He came back to himself slowly, and he felt Zevran lay down beside him. He turned onto his side and buried his face in Zevran's soft blond hair, his body still shaking from the aftershocks of his release. His breathing calmed as he inhaled his lover's scent, and he lay cradled in Zevran's arms as the rogue whispered soothing nonsensical words into his ear.

Long minutes passed until he finally tipped his head up to look at Zevran. The other man was looking at him, just a touch of concern on his face. Alistair managed a small smile. "That was…" he tried to find the words to explain how he felt, "amazing!" he finished lamely.

Zevran laughed at that. "I am glad that you enjoyed yourself." He ran his fingers through Alistair's short hair as he pulled the man into a warm kiss. Both men were breathless when they finally parted.

Alistair looked at him slyly. "So," he said, "when we do this next time, would you prefer ropes or sashes?"

Zevran grinned at him. "I believe I shall let you decide."