Smutty chapter ahead! You won't miss much if this isn't your kind of thing. The next chapter will start off Gwendolyn's rule beside Alistair. It'll be a grand time.

Gwendolyn had slept beside Alistair for weeks now. She had known his comforting, strong embrace in the dead of night. She had kept him company when he could not sleep, and yet in the final stretch of their honeymoon, found that he had not summoned up the bravery to lay with her. The tension was high, and she did not want to return to Denerim only to face Arl Eamon and severely disappoint him. She already felt the pressure for an heir, and it left her uncomfortable.

They had spent several nights in their wedding bed, cuddling and talking and kissing, but never once did Alistair's hands leave their chaste place at her back. He never showed signs of interest in coupling with her, and there were times when this had deeply troubled her. Despite her desires to take this at his pace, to show him that she could be a good woman and a good wife, she felt the call of her duty calling for a child in her womb.

As she waited for him to come to bed, her eyes fell upon a small gathering of vials left for her by Serena Amell, the mage assigned to help her concieve. Not one of the had been opened, yet alone drank from. With a heavy sigh, she rose up from her bed, bound and determined to begin the process. She cracked open one of the vials, tasting for the first time a sour, and hopefully life giving, potion meant to steel her body against the corruption that had spread throughout Alistair.

She prayed to the Maker that the foul tasting concoction would indeed safeguard her womb from the corruption in her husband's body. When it would enter her, she hoped that the potion would aid the acceptance of Alistair's seed when the time came to conceive. She meant for that time to be that night, but all of her prayers could not guarantee her a night spent in blissful ecstasy with her strapping new husband.

She covered up the taste by chewing on a mint leaf, and she laid herself in bed completely naked. This way, Alistair would have no time to take notice of her bare body, and like every night before, would snuggle up to her and put his arm around her. This time his hands would not find the silky cloth of her nightgown, but the velvet feeling of her flesh. She waited for this moment, a bubble of anticipation brewing up in her stomach.

Alistair returned from his bath, shirtless and sleepy from the heat of the water. His mind had busily played with the thought of his future with Gwendolyn. The days spent in their small honeymoon cottage on Lake Calenhad had been enjoyable, if not outright pleasing. She had taught him more dances and shared meals with him, kissed him and talked to him about anything and everything. These qualities had long ago drawn him into her, and he appreciated them the more he saw them in work.

He entered their bedroom with towel in hand, drying his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. Gwendolyn made no sound as he did so, and he turned around to look at her. Her shoulders were bare, her back toward him. He felt something rise up in his throat, a case of the nerves creeping up on him.

"Gwen… Are you asleep?.."

She did not respond.

He crawled in next to her, careful not to disturb the woman he had believed to be asleep. As he moved in to cuddle her as always, his hands found her bare flesh and a blush came to his face. He felt her move underneath his hand, rolling to face him. The soft skin of her belly passed beneath his fingers, and he found his hand upon the small of her back. She curled closer to him, and he realized that she was naked.

"Gwen, I.. uh…"

She did not speak, only kissed him, and his response was stiff and hesitant.

Even so, Alistair's hand did not leave the small of her back. He had always liked the feeling of her skin, and he found this far more personal touch hard to resist or ignore. His body reacted to her when his mind had frozen, and he felt a gentle heat ebbing at him, calling him to his more primal desires. The feeling of Gwendolyn's bare chest against his own left an untouched hunger aching in his gut. He lusted for her at the basest of levels, but so much of him was unsure of himself, unsure of his readiness. He did not know if he could yet handle being with another woman, even if his body had grown restless and needy.

Gwendolyn continued to press her luck, kissing him softly and trying to entice him in this simple way. He had begun to return the gestures, careful of himself as he pulled her close. She took this as a sign of acceptance, and she basked in the feeling of his toned body so near her own. She missed the feeling of a man's skin against her own, with hands firmly grasping at her back.

She did not think of Rory as Alistair fell victim to his lust. Alistair did not think of Linara as Gwendolyn offered herself to him. They had come to the bridge they knew they must cross, and at first, they hesitated. Together, they had taken off in a sprint, more and more willing to join together as they became more familiar with the other's body.

She could feel his hands exploring every curve on her body from the toned muscle of her thighs to the roundness of her rear. His fingers danced gently across her sides, feeling their way to her breasts, which he took a moment to admire before cupping them in his palms. Gwendolyn responded with a gentle sigh, a sign to him that she liked his touch. He responded in kind by rubbing his thumb against her nipple, a delight growing inside of him at knowing he made her feel this way. The hunger that had bubbled inside of him was slowly rising even as he fed it.

Still, she remained careful with him. Each touch was deliberate, each teasing flick of her tongue precise. She would not stray from his mouth for too long, leaving small trails along his collar bone and his neck and returning for a delightful play of tongues. Her hands trailed their way down his chest as she pulled herself away from him just enough to let her hands pass between them. Her right hand found his hard desire, which had earlier been pressing against her leg. Her fingers touched it gently, earning a grunt from him for her efforts.

Alistair rolled over her, pushing her onto her back as he did so. Either knee at her sides, he looked down at her and leaned in toward her, leaving only inches between their faces. Gwendolyn's hands remained where they were, and she remained acutely aware of their situation. She did not want to forget why she had initiated this.

"Is this.. Really what you want, Gwen?" His brown eyes stared into hers, seeking confirmation.

"It is. I feel like I'm ready for this.. So much is riding on our relationship… our relations, Alistair. I do not want to be looked at like Anora. I want to give you a child, a family, love.. I'm not here to be Queen. I didn't marry you to be Queen. I wanted a second chance at being happy, and I thought I could find it with you, by helping you.."

He blinked at her as her hands left their more intimate placing and moved to grasp at his back, a tight hug forming in this touch. This no longer felt like lust to him. The look in her eyes was one of adoration, of hope and belief. They glimmered with a well of tears, which he only assumed were of her own realizations. He could not move himself to think he had caused this, and he closed the distance between them with a brief kiss.

"Thank you, Gwen.. I wouldn't be able to do this without you.."

Once more, their lips met in a flurry of kisses whose very nature had changed from what it was just moments ago. There was love there, desire of a different kind. Their lust had changed from a basic instinct for coupling to a need to join together, to move as one and experience the making of love.

As he kissed her, Alistair released himself from the binds of his smallclothes. A sigh of relief escaped him, being freed of the binding that had caused him to ache since Gwendolyn began her advance on him. Gwendolyn's legs moved from between his own and spread wide. In the glimmering light of a nearby candle, he could see her, wet with desire. He made the decision to move in, but as he did so, Gwendolyn used all of her strength to roll him and sit upon his hips. She sat up and parted her lips from his own, a wide grin forming on her face. Clearly, she had her own plans for the night.

Her hands reached down, wrapping his throbbing manhood in her fingers to guide him to her opening. He instinctively bucked into her touch, a small groan coming from the back of his throat. It had been so long since he had been touched like that, and Maker's Breath, did he miss it.

Alistair's hands moved to grasp at her hips as he felt himself pressing at her opening. As her warmth enveloped him, they both let out a deep moan. She felt like velvet around him, wound so tightly that he thought he might lose himself far too soon for either of their liking. She began to ride him slowly, making herself used to his size. Her hands rested on his chest now, and her eyes never lost his own.

Even when she sat straight up on top of him, bouncing with his aid and taking him into her at a steady pace, their gaze did not break. They moaned together, felt a searing hot pleasure coursing down their spines and cumulating inside of them, building as Alistair began to lift her up and pull her down faster than she had intended.

"Ugh, Alistair!…" As she said his name, it almost came off in a sense of surprise. It did not remain this way, and she continued to murmur his name.

Alistair neared his own climax, but he refused to let it end just yet. He rolled once more, pushing Gwendolyn onto her back. She yelped at the change, feeling him burrowed into her as far as he could go. He was so close to her now, his face so near her own as he pressed into her at a more gentle pace. He left gentle kisses along her shoulder, trailing till he found her lips. His tongue hungered to taste her own as he began to pump himself into her, harder and faster as he decided that this was how he wanted to reach his peak with her.

They moaned together, never once breaking their lip lock. Breath was a precious commodity to them both as Gwendolyn wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles together just above his backside. He could feel her tightening around him, reaching her own climax. He wanted to feel this. He wanted to find ecstasy with her in one perfect union. He hoped for it.

Her moans became more desperate and loud as she came to her climax, and she had to break away from their kiss as her eyes closed and she whimpered his name, enjoying the moment in its simplicities. Alistair felt her body tighten around him at its highest potential, and he found his highest pleasures with her, gasping and groaning between each soft call of her name.

He continued to buck into her softly, releasing his seed deep inside of her and riding out the wave of pleasure that slowly ebbed from him. Not only had the sick tension in his back gone from him, but he felt warm, loved, and needed. Gwendolyn's legs were slack around his waist, but they remained there. Her arms were wrapped tight around his shoulders, and her lips kissed his cheeks with adoration and love. He had found his place again. He knew where he belonged: in her arms, with Gwendolyn, his wife and his Queen.