And other, do you love me yet? I'm hoping to get another one out next week. So relax and be of good cheer, Renegade will start updating too, I hope.
UGH. Sorry for the length of time it took to get this up, I'm having issues updating any Dragon Age story and it drives me bonkers.
Alistair took Fergus' words to heart and he planned for the next few days to stay locked in his room and not talk to anyone. There was a lot of soul searching he needed to do, and the panicking castle be damned. Anora could handle it.
The most important thing he needed to determine was if Thomais was right or not, and after he locked himself in his room for a day, he realized it was not the smartest of ideas. So, in the middle of the night, when he could sneak out of the castle... he went to the Pearl.
In retrospect, this was probably the worst thing he could have done and he knew Fergus was going to have his hide if the older man ever found out. He would just have to make sure that the last Cousland never found out.
The whole thing was highly embarrassing anyway. Fergus would just laugh at him... after punching him again.
When he stepped in the front door, hooded and cloaked to hide his identity and saw the place was virtually empty, he let out a huff of relief and inched his way to the front desk. "Um... hi. I need... um..."
"First time?" Sanga kept her smile in check at his nervousness.
"Yes!" he blurted. "No! I mean..."
"Your brother came here often, and so did your father. It's nice to see the family patronage continuing." She marked something down in a little book.
"No! I ah... I'm just... I have something I need to figure out," he mumbled. "Please don't tell anyone I was here?"
"Of course, Ser. We have a strict privacy code. Is there anything in particular you would like?"
"Particular?"
"In your woman, ser. Blonde? Busty? Elven? Your father was particularly fond of our Elven beauties."
"Nonono. I'm looking for..." he trailed off and mumbled incoherently.
"Ser?"
"Man. Black hair. Grey eyes. Shorter than me."
"I see. Ser, if you'll pay your fifty silver and go to the last room on the left and wait, we'll send him right on in." Sanga gestured down the hall and he was aware of her eyes following him until he disappeared through the door, after he dropped the coins on her desk, of course.
Alistair twiddled nervously and bounced on the balls of his feet, before sitting on the edge of the bed. When no one showed up after a minute or two, he slipped his breeches off and kept a wary eye on the door in front of him. After a few more minutes passed, he actually started to relax and think about why he was here.
Jowan.
How did he feel about the mage he'd rescued? Protective? Absolutely. Fond? Yes. But was it more than just a fondness for a friend? Was he truly attracted to the Jowan? Am I rationalizing any feelings away by adding them under that protective feeling? Am I staying away because I don't want to hurt him, or because I'm not attracted to him? He closed his eyes and pictured the smaller man's soft grey eyes and black hair and felt a small, involuntary smile tug at his lips.
From there his mind formed a new image for him. Jowan, spread out on the royal bed. Naked. The mage's face was red from a blush, and chest heaving from exertion and desire. Alistair's face flamed and his groin stirred with excitement, but he held onto the image. Oh yes. I think that answers that question. Oh, Maker. What do I do now?
He was so caught up in the vision playing in his mind that he never heard the door open. He didn't even realize someone was in the room until he heard, "Oh, very nice."
His eyes snapped open and he saw a man with grey eyes and black hair standing at the foot of the bed. This man looked nothing like Jowan. All for the better since Alistair suddenly found himself unable to breathe for all the guilt assaulting him.
"First time with a man, hmmm?" The... whore... asked him. "I think we'll start off with something not too out of the box then..." He went down on his knees right in front of Alistair and the king... panicked. He jumped up from the bed, narrowly avoiding the man in front of him and yanked his breeches back up before making a run for the door.
I can't do this. Not to him. Not to Jowan. Too much has happened to him already. I don't want this without him!
Alistair didn't stop running until he'd made it safely back to his room where he dove under the covers and stayed there for the next three days, only venturing out for food occasionally.
When he finally emerged to Anora's screaming, he looked a little worse for wear, but had a determined expression on his face. "Let it go, Anora. I don't have time for this right now. There's something I need to do."
"I don't think so, Alistair. Your friend put you on the throne so you could be a KING. Not so that you could run and hide and leave me to deal with your messes when things got tough." Anora was red-faced and waving papers in his face.
"That wasn't why," he said, irritably. "I had some thinking to do and-"
"I don't care what you had to do. When you're the king, your personal life falls secondary to running your kingdom," she spat.
"I... of course. Your right. I'm sorry," he apologised. "But right now, I have something very important to do. I'll get to those papers right after, I promise. Just leave them on my desk." He pushed past her and into the hallway.
"What is so important you're ignoring this?" she called after him.
"I have someone I need to apologise too!"
"Alistair, you bloody idiot."
He ignored her last comment and concentrated on searching for Jowan. He needed to apologise, needed to find the man and explain everything, and he hoped the mage wouldn't run away from him this time. After he'd exhausted all of Jowan's other haunts, he headed for the kitchen. Relief broke over his face when he saw his quarry seated at a table, chewing thoughtfully on a buttered roll. "Jowan," he said softly, "can I talk to you?"
He bit his cheek to stop his smile at the delightfully startled expression on the grey-eyed man's face. Jowan swallowed the bit of roll in his mouth and said in a very soft voice, "Whatever you wish, Ser."
He took a seat next to the bewildered mage and took a deep breath before speaking. "Jowan, I'm sorry for what I did to you the other night. It seems I don't even know myself very well." He quirked a smile before continuing, "I've done some thinking over the past few days and I just wanted to tell you," here his face grew very red and he started stuttering, "I... I wanted to tell you that I l-l-like you. A lot. I'm very fond of you, Jowan." He cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead. "Ah, I'm mucking this all up. Jowan, I care for you. A lot. R-r-romantically. I... think I love you, Jowan." The red-faced king bit his bottom lip and watched Jowan's face, bracing himself for fear or rejection.
Instead, Jowan simply said one word, "Why?"
"I... I don't know," Alistair admitted. "You're... beautiful. Handsome. One of the gentlest people I've ever met. You are one person I can't see myself without." He shook his head, "I'm sorry to... dump all this on you. I should have thought more about what to say. You don't believe me, do you?"
Jowan shook his head. "It's easy to believe that people want to use me, especially men who've claimed to like women, want to take what they want from my body. However, the fact that you want to give is unbelievable to me. I'm sorry, ser." Jowan cringed a little, and Alistair knew the poor man expected to be hit.
"Then I'll prove it to you," Alistair declared. "I'll prove what you mean to me. What I've discovered you mean to me. I'll take it slow. I won't push you into anything. I'll ask and wait for a yes before I do anything." Then he stopped and smiled, "This is new to me too, remember?" and he reached a hand out, palm upwards. "I think this is a good place to start. May I hold your hand, Jowan?"
The mage looked at the hand in front of him, then at the soft smile on his king's lips and nodded.
Alistair's beaming grin could have lit up the room. He took Jowan's hand in his, stroking the palm gently. After a few moments he simply said, "Thank you."
Anora stepped inside the room she shared with Fergus, a small smile playing about her lips. "You'll never believe what just happened, love." She gave him a kiss and started toeing off her shoes.
"Alistair finally confessed to Jowan?" Fergus was reclining on the bed, a thick leather-bound book in hand.
"Yes! Wait… how did you-"
She never got out the rest of her sentence over the sounds of Fergus laughing his fool head off.