Author's note: Bumping up the rating to M for this one. Please be kind on the intimate scenes, I'm not used to writing them, but wanted to show what's been building up and show some taste.

The pain in those golden brown eyes was more than she could bear. But he doesn't say anything as they walk back to the inn the party was staying at for the moment. Or rather, he walks and she does a funny skip-walk to keep up with him since he's chosen to walk the full length of his stride instead of shortening it the way he usually does.

Unfortunately the Goldanna of reality matched nothing of the one spun in the twisted dreams of the Fade. Marlana had been hoping for his sake that his sister would prove to be like that dream, only minus the demonic parts. But she'd been proven to be a money grubbing shrew. Lana privately thought much worse things than shrew, but she wasn't going to add to the misery in Alistair's eyes. She'd wanted the Goldanna of the dreams to be the reality, after all she'd grown up in a loving family, and she wanted Alistair to have a little taste of that, to find some measure of happiness from something that didn't involve constant battle.

She'd meant it when she told him she didn't think he was an idiot, but that as she told him before he needed to start standing up for himself. All he did was shake his head at her and say he didn't want to talk about it anymore. Ruefully she admitted to herself that she hadn't made things any easier when she got pissed at how the woman was talking to her templar. This was part of the reason he hustled them out of the house as quickly as humanly possible, the other part was that he obviously couldn't take any more of the woman's shrewishness. When they finally arrived at the inn, Lana feeling a bit more out of breath from the trip than Alistair, he emotionlessly informed her that he wanted time alone, went to his room and very firmly closed the door.

For a long moment she stood there staring at the door, wondering if it was more than just a physical door had been closed in her face. Since no one else was around, and she really didn't want to think of what Shale might be up to in Denerim on her own, she left a message with the innkeep for the others that she would be out for awhile. Oogie whined unhappily at being left at the inn alone, but she told him she wanted someone to be there for Alistair. Resigned the dog flopped down in front of the door, but brightened when she had a large bone with shreds of meat still on it to be brought to him. Marlana considered eating something herself, but decided better to work on an empty stomach.

The past week had been an exercise of frustration at trying to meet with the elusive Brother Genetivi. His assistant, Weylon, kept coming up with excuse after excuse that the scholar couldn't meet with them. So she was going to exercise her version of feminine wiles and see if there's some way she can have a chat with Brother Genetivi on her own. It would be simple enough to break into his house and prowl around in the shadows before having that private talk. Sure enough, it's disgustingly easy to slip into the house, but there's something not right about the place. It feels too empty. And there's a faint scent of…carrion in the air. Frowning she slipped from the silent common rooms to the large bedroom in the back to see a body under a blanket on the floor.

Having found the source of the carrion smell, she cautiously approached the body and carefully flipped the covering away from the face of the corpse. Granted it was starting to decompose pretty badly, but she could see the outline of the face didn't match the description of the scholar given to her by Isolde. As she considered the situation and before she could search the room, she heard the sounds of someone returning to the house.

Easing back into the shadows, she eased the door open just enough to see that Weylon had return, but still no sign of Genetivi. Quietly she drew a long dagger, slipped through the narrow doorway, snuck up behind Weylon before slamming him to the wall with her blade under his chin. Her cold blue eyes met his dark ones full of fear and fury, "You're going to answer my questions, and depending on how I like them, you might live."

Instead of answering her, he tried to cast a spell. She didn't need to be a templar to stop a mage from casting a spell. She brought a swift knee to the groin, then a dagger through a hand, pinning said hand to the wall so he couldn't make the necessary gestures to spellcast and he was just a man. "Now, as I was saying, I have some questions, and you are going to answer me."

Weylon refuses to talk, ranting about blessed Andraste. Since Marlana is not cold enough to stoop to torture, at least not yet, she puts the madman out of his misery, and then went back to searching the house for information. It was in the bedroom that she finds a copy of the brother's research into the Urn of Sacred Ashes and how he came to the conclusion that it was in some tiny village called Haven. She groaned when she realized that they were going to have to go across all of Ferelden again. Even worse the town seemed to be not that far from Redcliffe. Not upset enough to be sloppy, she left the house the same silent way she had entered to return back to the inn. Marlana wondered how she was going to explain the information she'd obtained to the rest of her companions and unhappily decided that this was likely to even further widen the abrupt gulf between her and Alistair.

Hunger drove Alistair out of his room shortly after the other Warden had left and he felt a moment of fear fueled anger at the thought of her out in the city on her own, without even Oogie to watch her back. The hound gave him sad eyes, clearly asking if they were going to go join his human, only the hound can't track her with all the scents of the city. So the warrior does the only thing he can do, eat and try not to brood too much.

By the time she arrived, he'd worked himself up enough from brooding to full fledged anger that he starts yelling at her as soon as she comes back. "What in the Maker's name do you think you're doing? Wandering around the city on your own? You didn't even take your mabari with you, how could you do that him?" How could you do that to me? How could you just go without me? He asks in his mind. How could you put yourself in danger where I can't be there to be your shield?

Her big blue eyes stared at him in shock, and all the time he's yelling at her, he's stomping across the room. Before she realizes what he's up to, Alistair has grabbed her by the shoulders and started to shake her. Not hard, but trying to get through to her the awful worry she'd put him through. "I…I honestly didn't think you'd notice. I'm sorry, Alistair, I truly am."

Her words gutted him, and as he sucks in a deep breath to roar at her for thinking he wouldn't notice her absence, Morrigan's sarcastic voice interrupts, "My, what a pretty pair of lovebirds you are."

Marlana sags a bit in Alistair's hands, and says tiredly since she's not really interested in fighting with both of them, "Enough Morrigan."

The sorceress frowns at the two, her golden eyes asking a silent question of the smaller woman. Does he need to be dealt with? Mutely the other shakes her head. "As you wish then. If you need me, I shall be in my room. And Alistair, dear, please try not to shout down the inn, I'm sure twould be most distressful to our good innkeep should that happen."

"Maybe we should talk somewhere more private?" She asks quietly, as she looks thoughtfully at the departing Morrigan who was no where near as venomous as she normally was where Alistair is involved. And that was just disturbing. But since there didn't seem to be any hew and cry going on outside, Morrigan apparently hadn't caused too much trouble.

His mouth is still set in a tight angry line and his eyes are dark with fury, none of which has to do with Morrigan. "Yes, let's talk somewhere more private."

They end up in his room, in the back of her mind she's surprised at how neat and tidy he has it, but she doesn't have time to think about that because he's yelling again, but not as loudly and keeping the width of the room between them. "Dammit, Marlana, there's bounties on your head, all it would take is one person to recognize you to have the guards come for you."

She rubbed her mouth with one hand and debated telling him that one of the sergeants of the guard already recognized her and was keeping an eye out for her. She figured that it would better to tell him later, but she was resentful he thought she'd be caught that easily. "I'm not that easily caught when I'm running the shadows alone."

He turns to stare at the fireplace, his back to her so she can't see his face even as she regrets the words as soon as they're out. Alistair's voice goes toneless, "So you'd rather go alone then?"

"No! Maker's Breath, Alistair, I had to do something. And after getting the door shut in my face, I figured that you didn't want anything to do with me after that debacle this afternoon. So I figured I'd go out and be back before you came back out."

When he does turn around, there's no more fury, but she can't read him at all. Torn between staying where she is and going to him, she decides to sit down figuring he's going to loom over her no matter what. Only she sits down on the bed because that's what is next to her and only as she sits she realizes just how bad of an idea that might be. But being stubborn and somewhat pissed off; she stays where she is, refusing to appear awkward at all.

"So I did step in it then."

She offered up a wry smile, "I think we both did."

All of a sudden he's there before her, crouched down to look her in the eyes so he doesn't loom over her. Marlana still wasn't sure what was going on behind those brown eyes, but now they're more golden than black, when he speaks his voice is hoarse, "I love you so much, the thought of something happening to you without me to protect you is more than I can bear."

Then he's kissing her before she can answer and it's so very different from that first kiss they shared as he buries his hands in her hair having it fall in a tumbled silver cascade about them both. Or like the others they've had since, there's nothing tentative, or restrained. The long deep kiss is full of hunger, want and need. He's still light and strength and now she has a name for that complicated thing, which should make it less complicated, but it's even more so not less. There's a depth to it now, solidity to the thought, as she tried to show him without words how much he means to her. But she can't say it, to say it is to doom him.

But he doesn't seem to be looking for her to say anything as his lips slowly trail down from the corner of her mouth, down the side of her neck to the hollow of her throat. As that clever mouth does things to make her pulse race even faster, she finds herself on her back with him above her, and it's such a simple thing to simply reach out and touch.

Almost on their own her hands run down his sides to tug his shirt loose before running them back up under the shirt, feeling the marvel of warm, almost velvet like, skin playing over hard muscle. Her fingers trace over the different scars that mark his torso like some sort of map, the worst are the ones she had to treat before they had Wynne, but she doesn't think of that now, not when he's kissing her again, his hands busy on the laces holding her shirt closed. It takes a bit for her to try to figure out how to get his shirt off of him when he doesn't seem to be paying attention, but he does seem to get the message as he pauses just long enough to pull the offending garment off and tosses it to the side.

"Your turn," he rasps in her ear as his hands finally undo the last lacing and pulls her shirt up and over her head. They both laugh breathlessly as it tangles up in her hair, but they manage to free it without too much damage to hair or shirt, then they're together feeling skin to skin, but not quite because there's still some fabric between them…

It's as his hands being to trace the edge of her breast band that they suddenly realize how far they've gone, but not as far as they could. Laying there with the solid weight of him partly on her, her legs twined with his so she very easily felt the interest he had in her, she looked up at him with huge blue eyes, dark with passion, but starting to think again. She watched as he swallowed and shook his head as he began to slowly ease off her, "I'm sorry, Lana I didn't mean for that to happen."

"I'm not." Her lips curve up in a pleased smile, somewhat swollen from their kissing, and he realizes that while her mouth was meant for smiling, it was even better for kissing. Alistair jerked his mind away from that thought, he was having hard enough time keeping focused. Where's that vaunted templar discipline now, ass?

"You certainly know how to kiss and make up after a fight", she's trying desperately to keep it light, as she tries to casually find her shirt. Alistair is very carefully not looking, not even a peak, as she finds her shirt then pulls it on and re-laces it. She can't help but grin as she lets him know it's safe to look again, she gets a rueful answering smile from the man then his eyes flick to her hair. Hesitantly she goes to try to smooth it out, but it's a true mess, "I, er, don't supposed you have a comb or brush or something."

He laughs, it's a little weak and breathless, but it's a laugh and he doesn't seem as upset, "Me? Without a comb? As if." It doesn't take him long to dig out a wooden comb, Alistair hesitates just a moment, then sits back down on the bed and gently tugs her down to sit down next to him. He's proud that his hands trembles only the slightest as he begins to tentatively comb her hair out. Seeing the way it shimmered made him finally ask a question he'd wanted to ask ever since he met her, and now that she was relaxing under his hands, it seems as good a moment as any.

"So, um. About your hair?"

"What about it?"

"It's absolutely lovely, but…I don't recall seeing this kind of color on anyone who didn't find some way of dying it. I know you, you aren't the type…"

She actually giggled, "Ah well. You can blame Fergus, he got ahold of something when I was, hmm, eight. That's about right, it was an eventful year since that was the year I gave in to his dare about the lamppost."

He feels a little dizzy, he remembered that conversation very well, she'd been out to try to make him blush and while she did, he'd gotten her to blush too. "Wait, you know, I didn't mean an actual lamppost when I asked you that."

He doesn't have to see her face to know that she's grinning, "I know, but I figured taking you literally would make things more interesting. It was an actual lamppost in the middle of winter and mother was absolutely horrified. Father thought the whole thing amusing, outside of mother's earshot of course. Anyway, a few months before that, my brother had gotten a hold of something, what it was or where it he got it from he refused to say. He was also old enough to know better, but he dumped it on me for being a pain in the ass."

For a brief moment, Alistair could sympathize with her lost brother, as much as he loved her, Marlana could be a pain in the ass. A big one, especially if she thought you weren't doing what you were supposed to. But she was continuing on, "So after I got thoroughly scrubbed within an inch of my life, all of my hair had fallen out. But at that point I was too sick to really care. When it started growing back, it came out the color you see it as."

All sympathy is gone, even if Fergus hadn't meant to hurt her, that he dumped whatever was noxious enough on an eight year old… But he's careful not to tug on Lana's hair, since he knows that would let her know that he was thinking dark thoughts. He banished the dark thoughts, because the feel of her hair under his hands is soothing to him as well as his gentle combing is to her. The silence that falls between them is a comfortable thing, but soon he's done and decides that while combing her hair is one thing, tying it up is another.

There's a flash of amusement in those sapphire eyes as she stoops to find the ribbon that had gotten thrown to floor. As she finishes putting her hair in a loose tail and starts to head for the door, she gives him a sly grin, "You know, swooping isn't always bad."

Then she's out the door leaving him staring after her before the laughter starts.

Dinner that night starts off with a great deal of excitement as everyone, except Alistair who already yelled at her, become very vocal about her wandering off on her own. She didn't wander, and she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself and why is it okay for everyone else to take off on their own?

The words differ, but they all say the same thing, "You're the Grey Warden."

While she may bristle at the implied slight towards her fellow Warden, he simply accepts it. He did have his chance to lead and didn't take it. Still didn't want it, but he was doing what he could take some of the burden off Marlana. And if ever this was the time to start, this was it, "All right, that's enough. You've all made your points. Time to let the lady say what's on her mind."

Six heads swivel in his direction in astonishment, Oogie pants his approval for Alistair standing up for his almost-mate and Lana gives him a quick smile of gratitude. Then she's back to business and carefully explains what she found in Genetivi's home, the research, where it leads. At least she's not the only one annoyed by the fact they were only a week away from Haven when they were in Redcliffe as opposed to the two to three weeks, if not longer, in Denerim. Particularly with summer already half way through, it wasn't likely to be pleasant in the mountains by the time they got there.

It wasn't terribly surprising that Morrigan and Sten both objected to what they called her mad plans. She rubbed her forehead as she tried to explain, again, why they were on this mad quest. "Since Teagan won't take over while Eamon is…ill, and I'm certainly not going to ask Isolde to do something", there were shudders around the table at that thought. "And because I realize that we do need his support in the war. I haven't met the man in a little over five years and I doubt he remembers me, but my father did speak well of him."

There're quiet murmurs as people shift and consider her words. Morrigan frowns, but slowly nods. It had taken the witch some time to come to terms with the fact that the young woman was nobility and not just any nobility, but one of the most powerful families in the country. That she'd been allowed to wander around with three idiot males in Darkspawn filled Wilds when they first met had been incomprehensible to her. It was still incomprehensible to Morrigan that Lana didn't use the power of her family name to her advantage; it seemed as if she was trying to hide from it. The sorceress was slowly coming to accept that this was a part of Marlana, that while she would never understand the young woman, she was coming to like her, and felt a pang of guilt, which she dismissed.

Marlana was more concerned with Sten's disgruntlement at that particular moment than the odd mix of emotions on the face of one of her oddest allies. She knew he was likely to try something soon, she just hoped it was when they were outside of Denerim and no innocent bystanders to get caught in the backlash. Finally she managed to direct everyone's attention to actually planning out the logistics of the trip. Once done, they all scatter to their rooms for some rest. Except for Alistair, who is the perfect gentleman by escorting her to her room. Their kiss goodnight is far from gentlemanly, but he doesn't accept her quiet invitation for the night. Instead he cups her cheek with one hand and smiles down into her eyes, "Soon enough, my dear."

He quietly slips away leaving her wondering and wanting dammit. The bastard. But she smiles at the thought before seeking out her cold, empty bed.

They spend another week in Denerim preparing. Most of it is to get supplies since they don't know what will be available once they're in the mountains, if only to make sure the two Wardens don't starve. A fact Alistair finds amusing and Marlana still mortified about. While waiting for everything to be prepared and delivered, Marlana takes on a few odd jobs to help the guard with some of the areas that have gotten overrun. Wynne, Leliana and Morrigan declined to help since seemed to have her own business going on in the city, but the others were glad for a chance for some action. Thankfully, Alistair seemed more amused than mad that she had made contact with the guard. She didn't mention to anyone, not even Zev, about some of the more shadowy work that she was doing.

Lana was hard pressed not to laugh when even her companions were bringing back rumors of the "Dark Wolf" who was such a bane to the nobility. No one missed the fact that the nobles that were targeted were allies of Loghain and Howe. She'd been amused the first time Slim had told her of her new title. Truth be told she liked that much better than what others had called her, a wolf was a predator, a killer, which suited her more than things like my lady, Teyrna, hero. When those who remembered her bent for such shadow work looked at her speculatively she simply gave them an amused glance which told them nothing.

Amongst her shopping for the coming expedition, she got dragged off into looking at clothes by Leliana. "I've got enough clothes, Leli."

"Pfft, they're fine enough for when we're on the road, or meandering about the city. But you're an important person and you should have some nice things to wear for when you're meeting other important people."

"My armor has been fine for that."

"Oh Lana", the exasperation in the bard's voice makes the shorter woman grin. Then it's Leliana's turn to give a sly grin, "Besides, don't you want to dazzle Alistair at some point? Most men won't say it, but they appreciate it when their lady dresses up for them."

She laughs wickedly as Marlana blushes brightly. Then she hooked her arm with Lana's, "Besides, it'll be fun. I bet you haven't had any fun girl time in ages."

"I'm not what you would call all that girly, Leliana. Not even before the, er, current situation."

"Ah, but you had girl friends, no? Did they not do female things for fun?"

Marlana sighs as they head into the first shop and her mabari flat out refuses to enter, instead flopping to the ground outside the door, "They did, and I never really got the point of all that primping and preening. Besides the only vaguely female thing I learned to do well was sewing and I've ended up sewing Alistair's and Sten's hides more than clothing."

Leliana simply shakes her head in mock despair.

Hours later as they relax in the inn with cool sweet wine, Lana is forced to admit it had been fun in a way. And an experience she never wants to repeat, fortunately the bard seems to feel the same way. Oogie lies at her feet still traumatized after entering one shop and having a little girl trying to bedeck him with ribbons. However she did find one dress that not only complimented her slim figure and short height, but she actually liked it. A seemingly simple sheath dress, parts could be laced on or left off depending on the look she was going for. And she had spent more on those scraps of silk than she ever had all of her other clothing put together.

Fortunately the rest of the time preparing goes the way Marlana expects it without any further impromptu shopping expeditions with Leliana. Or anyone else for that matter, thankfully. She's really quite tired of the market district. And the back alleys. Well, to be honest, most of Denerim.

She doesn't expect Alistair to arrange for a private dinner at their inn before they're to leave for Haven. He has that mix of shy boy and intent man in the expression on his face as he asks her to dine with him alone before their long journey. She smilingly accepts the invitation, and her heart thumps at the delight in his eyes. And silently thanks Leli for pushing her into that horrid shopping trip.

Looking down at the scraps of silk that are supposedly a dress she considers the message she wants to send to him. For the first time as a woman who is interested in a man, she wants actually cares about her appearance and what it might mean to him. So she carefully bathes and dresses, tries to do more than just tie up her hair, but not sure how successful she is. After carefully applying some light cosmetics to enhance her features, she debates on her blades. And with a giddy sense of … something she can't articulate, even to herself, she leaves the blades in her room. She wants dinner to be between Alistair and Lana, not templar and swordsman, or the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Just a man and a woman who are working towards building a relationship.

The wonder in his eyes makes all the careful preparations worthwhile. For all that the sapphire silk falls demurely from neck to ankle, it hugs her form while flaring out enough to help add mystery. Without the sleeves her arms and shoulders are bare, revealing the hard, lean muscles of a swordfighter. Then its her turn to feel wonder, seeing him dressed in a dark brown doublet with gold accents with matching breeches, she smiles a little seeing him wearing his new finery with his very practical leather boots. At first during their meal they're a little awkward since neither is quite used to being dressed up in such a way, but soon they're relaxed and laughing together.

When it finally winds down to dessert, Lana finds herself sitting next to Alistair. Or rather, she was tucked up against Alistair with one of his arms oh-so-casually draped over her shoulders. "So, you never did tell me what you did to get back at Fergus. I imagine between the hair and the lamppost, you would've gotten back at him somehow."

She dimpled up at him, brilliant eyes glinting with wicked mischief, "Oh, well. I found a recipe to turn his hair purple with gold flecks for a week."

"Just a week? I thought you would've gone for something longer."

The smile that curves her lips is even more wicked than that glint in her eyes, "Oh, a week was enough. It was the week of his sixteenth birthday."

His laughter fills the small room they're in, "Oh, you are a truly evil woman. That must be why I love you so much."

She still can't say it, but she hopes the kiss she gives him in response tells him for her. Smiling, he pours the last of the wine in the bottle for them, then shifts so that she's settled against him. As Lana delicately sips her wine she considers the comfortable silence between them. It wasn't so long ago that he'd been quietly glaring at her full of resentment that she was alive when the other Wardens weren't and that she had tried to make him actually lead. Now she's snuggled up against him, drinking wine after a lovely meal and thinks that maybe life isn't as bad as she'd thought.

Lightly he runs his fingers through her hair, toying with it nervously. She can feel him working up to one of those endearingly clumsy questions he's so good at. Not wanting to make him feel even nervier, she continues to remain quiet.

"I don't know how to ask you this, particularly after what happened last week…"

"I promise I won't bite", she smiled encouragingly up at him.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I was wondering…if you wanted to spend the night with me."

She carefully shifted up so she could look up at him; he met her gaze steadily, but nervously. "Are you sure? I didn't mean to pressure you that day."

Alistair gave her a look full of hope and fear, "I'm sure. I wanted the perfect time, the perfect place, but I realized there may never be a perfect time. If things were perfect we'd never have met, but I hoped I could make it…special. And I don't want to wait anymore. I've… never done it before. You know that. But…I want it to be with you…while we have the chance. In case…"

She twisted around in his arms to cup his face in her hands; he absently wondered how such strong hands could still be so small and soft, her eyes dark with distress, "Don't talk like that. There'll be time later; I don't want you to feel that you have to do this because you feel rushed."

He took her hands into his, lightly kissed the knuckles of each hand and looked steadily into her eyes, "Will there be time later? You don't know that. I don't know that. But just once I want to say that I was able to throw caution to the winds."

Her dark gaze searched his face to make sure this was what he wanted that he wasn't doing it because he felt he had to. He nodded in earnest silence. She swallowed nervously and said softly, "I should be honest with you. I've never done it either." She laughed nervously, "The other day with you was probably the most I've been…intimate with anyone."

She could feel his startlement, but he didn't say anything immediately, simply turned her hands over to drop a kiss into the palm of each hand. She shivered pleasantly at the surprising intimacy of the gesture as he spoke huskily, "Then let's learn together."

He eased her away enough to get to his feet and pulled her up against him for a quick, fierce kiss. Smiling at her flustered expression, he slid a hand down her side, before wrapping it around her waist to hold her close as he lead her to his room, mainly because it was the closest to where they'd been eating.

The door closing seemed to her ears a very final sound somehow as they regarded one another a little worriedly. They'd had the fire of their argument flowing in their blood that day when they'd almost gone where they were trying to go now. But now…there'd been romance and laughter in the meal, but nothing that set the blood aflame.

She found herself standing before the fireplace clothed only in her long hair, he hadn't wanted her to see him undress and wondered if he'd actually watched her or not. She didn't turn around until she felt his hands on her shoulders. Very slowly, she turned around to look at him, knowing that he saw a woman who had more hard, lean muscle than the soft curves that attracted most men. There was only wonder in his eyes as he took in the sight of her naked form which encouraged her to look at him.

Oh she'd seen him shirtless more than once, often when she ended up being the one to take care of the wounds he couldn't tend himself, but it was very different when the man was completely bare-skinned. When she saw his…maleness she frowned. She'd been told she'd know if a man was interested, but it looked rather painful.

Her expression worried him, "What's wrong, love?"

"You're…not hurt are you?"

He followed her gaze and laughed breathlessly, "Maker's Breath, Lana. Where do you think of these things? No, I'm not hurt." He purred, "Let me show you just how not hurt I am."

He placed a hand under her chin and directed her attention upwards back to his eyes, he saw the amazement in hers, but that was underlined by more than just nerves. He slowly skimmed the hand from her chin, down to her shoulder, then down her back as he slid his other hand from her midriff to her back. Then he was hugging her close, with her arms wrapped around his neck and both quivered at the feel of skin on skin. Pressed close like that, she couldn't think, couldn't remember any of the advice given to her from anyone from her dead best friend all the way to, Maker help her, Morrigan.

Yet while she couldn't think, couldn't act, because her body was overwhelmed by sensation, and thus overwhelmed her mind, Alistair was free to act. She found herself swept up (or was that swooped?) in his arms and he was kissing her, or trying to since their coordination was a little off, as he carried her to the bed. Once stretched out side by side on the bed, things were easier, if only because she didn't have to worry about difficult things like standing while kissing him. Kisses turned to feathersoft strokes that turned into a mutual exploration with hands, lips and tongues.

Then he was on top of her, asking if she was ready. Unable to speak, she nodded her assent. And that's when things changed for the worse.

Instead of any type of pleasure there was an explosion of agony like she'd never experienced as he entered her. She'd been shot, stabbed, fried, frozen and electrocuted by magic. Even on one memorable occasion poisoned herself by drinking Darkspawn blood. None of it had prepared her for this kind of awful feeling of being ripped apart. She managed to gasp out, "Don't move!" before he had gone any farther. He froze, torn between staying where he was and withdrawing not wanting to hurt her anymore. So he did the only thing he could think of, stay as still as possible and delicately kiss the tears away.

They both felt when her body finally adapted and relaxed. He still waited, mentally gritting his teeth because his instincts were yelling at him to get going, to make sure she was ready to go. There was more pain for her, but it slowly faded into something a bit more enjoyable. She felt more relief than anything else once it was over since she ached something fierce. She did enjoy cuddling with him though until he looked down and sucked in his breath in dismay.

"Do you trust me?" And she wondered what kind of question that was. Of course she trusted him, she'd gone through that torture act and was still with him wasn't she? Not that she said any of that a loud, but simply nodded. Then he staggered from the bed, made his unsteady way to his pack, and dug something out before coming back to bed and stretching beside her again. Curious, she propped herself up to see what he was up to when she smelled the distinctive sharpness of a healing salve.

"Wha-" Was all she could get out before his fingers were there, with something cold, but the salve soon warmed and soothed the horrible ripped apart feeling. Even once the salve had been used and did its work, his fingers continued their gentle stroking. He watched her face intently and soon that clever hand had her hips moving in rhythm with it. Then he found the right spot and all she could do was cry out his name in ecstasy as her back arched up and she pushed against him.

A delightful languor spread through her and she started to smile up at him as he leaned down to gently kiss her. As she curled up against him as sleep claimed her, because she did trust him, and more. He held the warm sleeping woman in arms for what felt like hours before sleep claimed him, reveling in the feel of her against him, the scent and taste of her still. Alistair had been a little worried he wouldn't be able to walk like he had, but after seeing the pain he'd caused her, he had to do something. Before he complete that thought he fell asleep wrapped around the woman he loved.