A/N: Hello, readers! I am alive and walking! Yay! And apparently posting too!
Anyhoo, major thanks to AElfric's Cat for beta-reading. She/he has done an awesome job in helping me sort out the unnecessary fluff, etc, etc. Also, this update would have been delayed till tomorrow or even next week were it not for the nudging from Biganimefan, YoshisSupport, and the kid. I do have a lot of homework to do in the next month so please just bear with me! Thanks to all readers and reviewers, most especially reviewers for their continued support and encouragement! If you have any suggestions about where the story should go, feel free to post it in a review!
Legend:
/blah/ Zarieth's speech
/blah/ someone speaking in a memory
blah Alistair's alpha speaking (inner wolf)
Alistair is a year younger than Hadrian. So, sometimes, he will be described as 'younger Warden'. However, in issues dealing with Warden stuff, he holds a higher rank than Hadrian due to his Joining occurring six months prior to the whole Ostagar/Hadrian's Joining part. Thus, he can also be described as a 'senior Warden.' I hope that clears up any confusion!
Chapter 35: The Next Morning
-o0o-
The warmth of the sun was what woke the smaller figure. The silver head moved slightly, his lips parting to let out a breathless sigh. The man shifted and he murmured a protest when something tightened around him, pulling his body even tighter against that broad chest. Someone murmured his name in reply and Hadrian gasped as dry, chapped lips kissed the nape of his neck. His lower half gently pushed back and he heard someone sigh in response, the body behind him moving even closer to his own. Something hard slid harmlessly into the cleft of his ass. Cerulean eyes snapped open and Hadrian's head whipped around.
A hoarse, almost angry shout pierced the still air of the morning and the poor sleeping man startled awake to Hadrian yelling out his name.
"Alistair? What the-what are you-how did this happen?" Hadrian sputtered wildly and his head whipped from side to side. The only real blankets he could use to cover his nakedness were his sparse garments, thin and flimsy. Panic rose rapidly and his heart pounded in his ears, the sound drowning out Alistair's questions of concern for a moment.
"Where are we? Did we-?" The question trailed off but the templar knew what his friend was asking about.
"Did we what? Oh! No!" Alistair began to say hesitantly, "we didn't."
"...oh...I see..." Hadrian almost sounded disappointed. Almost.
In their embarrassment, they both failed to see a large group of wolves watching them with curious eyes from afar. One of them, the dark-brown wolf, made an impatient sound, almost a growl of sorts.
Alpha, he is not good for our brother. His uncertainty will undermine our brother's efforts.
Zarieth took notice of his beta's concerns nonchalantly. And who you suggest, Beta?
That elf, Zevran. At least he's sure of himself...
In skill only; even his heart is haunted by dark shadows. No, Alistair is perfect for our Cousland, if he passes the three tests the High Lord has set for him.
Tests? Ah yes, tests required of the prospective Alpha. First, to show your strength in a fight; the Second, to display your tactical skills in leading a group into battle; and the Third, the Third is the Hunt for your intended. To chase your intended with heart and soul; then to show your dominance without hurting them. That is actually easier said than done, especially in the...
The brown wolf groaned and Zarieth licked his beta's face lovingly before nipping at his ear.
And it was a wonderful chase, was it not, Enerin?
Other wolves yipped in approval at their Alpha's affectionate display. The Beta snarled at them, but only half-heartedly and that prompted an even louder chorus of yips and howls of approvals.
The loud howls were even heard by the two men; the closeness of the sounds immediately dispersed any feelings of embarrassment and the two Wardens took notice of their surroundings, their senses heightened for any perceived danger. To their dismay, they also noticed that they weren't alone like they thought they were.
Zarieth noticed their gaze and he emitted a low growl to silence his pack, so as not to provoke k His pack immediately obeyed him and they watched their Alpha walk towards the awkward-looking pair, curious to see how this Alistair would fare in the trials to come.
-o0o-
The two Wardens trudged their way back to where the others were, with the wolves long gone behind them. The one ahead of his partner was oblivious to his surroundings, lost in his thoughts. Alistair too was blissfully unaware of the passing trees, the scuttling of animals. His eyes had a much more alluring sight to focus on, however, as they were currently glued to those swaying hips, the shapely buttocks moving in a teasing fashion. His partner was fuming so hard that Alistair could have sworn he saw smoke drifting from his friend's ear. Perhaps Zarieth had told him unpleasant news or something.
Back at their campsite, after Zarieth's approach and subsequent private dialogue with Hadrian, his friend dressed himself, using the large wolf as a barrier of sorts from Alistair's curious eyes. The Cousland acted as if he never wanted Alistair to see him naked, even though it was too late for that. It disheartened him when Hadrian refused to meet his gaze, as if the man was ashamed to have been intimate with him. Despite that though, he had seen Hadrian's blue orbs gazing at him when he wasn't looking. There was a sort of longing expressed beautifully in those eyes and Alistair knew in his gut that Hadrian didn't resent it all. He was just as confused as Alistair was.
Alistair didn't remember last night; the events came to him in jumbled pieces and, try as he might, the broken pieces just refused to come together.
"Hey, they're back!" A female voice shouted out and Alistair looked up, only to find that he and Hadrian had somehow trekked back to their campsite without even being aware of it. He wasn't sure if Hadrian knew the way back, given his unconscious state at that time. Instead of continuing on, the silver-haired man stopped and turned to regard him with cool, blue eyes, causing a shock of arousal to travel down Alistair's spine and down to his lower regions.
"Come to my tent," Hadrian demanded in a growl and the Templar saw how tense the man was. His shoulders were stiff and his whole bearing had changed back to how he was before: taut, regal, but extremely burdened. If Alistair had known this would happen, he would not have taken Hadrian away last night. He would have asked Leliana or someone else to do that, despite Hadrian's plea to have him not tell anyone else about his condition. Now, now he was stuck with confusing emotions. He wasn't given a chance to protest against Hadrian's rather terse summons for Morrigan, of all people had accosted them, her golden eyes narrowing in suspicion. The dark Witch thankfully didn't ask what they were doing. Only Leliana knew of the circumstance surrounding the pair, and from the looks of it, she wasn't going to voluntarily share that information, not without Hadrian's explicit consent.
Is that all I am now? Hadrian's secret?
"You look decidedly better," Morrigan sneered at the leader of their group. He ignored her and went promptly to his tent, leaving the trio in shock at his cold attitude. For a while, no one spoke. Leliana's head swiveled back and forth between Alistair and Hadrian's tent before finally landing on Alistair again. Her intelligent green eyes stared in a questioning manner at the templar.
"Alistair? What's going on? Why is Hadrian angry?"
Angry? Anger doesn't even begin to describe it. Alistair mused. "He's, uhh, still in pain. You know how men are when they're hurt. They don't like to be coddled to death."
Morrigan threw her head back and laughed harshly at that statement. Leliana didn't laugh but her frown grew until Alistair himself could see the beginnings of creases in her forehead.
"Coddle to death? Oh my, what have our Wardens come to now?"
"Quiet, Morrigan. I truly don't think this is the time to make jest of our friends," Leliana whispered, but her deadly voice cut right through Morrigan's jest.
Alistair didn't give Morrigan a chance to bite back a reply for he darted straight to the golden tent, where Hadrian's hound was waiting for them patiently. He was of course all too aware of curious stares boring holes in the back of his head and ignored them in face of what's to come.
Alistair entered Hadrian's tent and the warmth of it seeped into his cold body. The flaps fluttered closed behind him and as soon as Hadrian turned to look at him, the inviting warmth seemed to dissipate into a cold chill. Those accusing eyes shocked him by their intensity and the question asked of him really took him aback.
"Do you really not remember any of last night?" Alistair could see the jaw clench tightly with tension and those azure eyes were sharp and cutting. Regus whimpered at his master's side and he bumped his head against Hadrian's thigh.
"Errm...maybe not the important parts," Alistair said hesitantly, unsure of whether to joke to deflect the awkward tension between them or to be truthful. The dubious response caused the man to scowl and the Templar chided himself for taking the jesting way out of an awkward conversation. It had always worked with everyone else, even Duncan sometimes.
"Alistair," the Warden Commander said in a hard tone, "I know you're raised by flying dogs and whatnot, but there is no way in the Maker's Pits you don't remember giving me this."
He pulled down his tunic and Alistair's eyes, despite having seen it once before, still widened in shock at the horrible mark that marred the man's wonderful throat.
Bite him. Claim him as ours... That deep voice intoned to him from the past. Hadrian's passionate cries from the night echoed in Alistair's mind, almost drowning out everything else until a firm hand clasped him on the shoulder. He jumped slightly and found himself staring into Hadrian's concerned eyes that had a hint of sadness in them. For him not remembering, perhaps? Or for Hadrian being claimed so unwillingly? Or maybe willingly?
"Alistair," Hadrian whispered to him in a surprisingly soft tone.
The Cousland wasn't mad at his friend. He was just angry, no, he was livid for having this situation forced upon them.
/Alistair has been marked already by our High Lord. If he doesn't claim his position as Alpha, as your Alpha, then the mark will burn him. Such a mortal is not meant to be claimed like that. It can only be diffused by another claim of such a creature./
Like me? But I'm just a human.
/Your family has never been human.../
Why did you pick him? Why him? Why not someone else?
/The Maker Himself chose him for this task and All obey the Maker's will./
Zarieth's answers infuriated him even more until eventually he just stalked off, leaving a perplexed Warden and sympathetic wolves behind.
It was as if the Maker was almost forcing them to join. Was Alistair hypnotized last night without his knowledge? Hadrian muttered a curse underneath his breath, his frustration growing. As much as he started liking Alistair, perhaps viewing him more than a friend, he did not relish in the idea that the Maker was, so to speak, loaning his body to Alistair. What happened if Alistair had gone further than expected?
He took another good look at his friend and found himself to be aroused simply by looking at his friend's muscled body, the broad shoulders and chest tapering to a strong waist and long legs. The tempting heat radiated through his clothes and those full lips set beautifully underneath that straight nose.
The Cousland was so absorbed in his thoughts, he failed to realize that he had stepped even closer to the man, where their breaths mingled hotly in the cool morning air. Seeing the Templar's face this close, Hadrian could clearly see the dark depths of those brown eyes and was drawn to the intensity of them.
"Perhaps if you couldn't remember, then it wasn't really important," Hadrian murmured quietly, all too aware of the knight's burning gaze in response. The shorter man petted Regus on the head once before making an attempt to move past the knight. He was successful at first until a hand darted out to grip his elbow.
"Alistair? What's -ompfh!" Hadrian's question was interrupted by a firm yank, until he collided against an armored chest. The cool metal of his breastplate felt blessedly good against his chest and even through the thick armor, he could hear the soft thuds of Alistair's heartbeats.
Regus made a soft whine at first, trying to figure out whether Alistair's action was prompted by a more sinister purpose, before finally barking happily. A long, dark red tongue lolled out of the side of his jaws and he took a sentry position at the tent opening, ensuring that no one else would come in without his master's acknowledgement.
Alistair barely registered the Mabari move, his attention entirely captured by the silver-haired beauty leaning against him. He heard a soft sigh of relief before his friend simply relaxed against him, boneless and entirely trusting of his fellow Warden.
A wonderful scent of mint and something slightly musky underneath drifted upwards into his nose. His friend's smell taunted his olfactory senses and arousal stirred deep within his loins, causing him to growl deeply in his throat.
Apparently, Hadrian must have heard the throaty growl for the older Warden pulled back, only to look at up him with a heated gaze. Alistair grabbed hold of his chin and gently but firmly pressed their lips together.
It was as if that kiss alone was the trigger to release a mental hold on the memories of the night before. Flashes of images flickered in his mind's eye. Hadrian's pale skin, his sweaty locks. The silvery moonlight that shone down upon them contrasted sharply with the blood welling up from a wound that he had caused. Then the images following that were hazy and only started to clear up at a sound of amusement coming from the tent's entrance.
"Well, I probably should have shouted first, right me boy?" That familiar dwarven voice cause both of them to jump and shocked eyes locked unto a blushing dwarf merchant, who was holding two cups of soup. Steam rolled off the top and there was an aroma of seasonal herbs and chicken wafting in the tent. Even Regus approved of the smell and was currently getting dangerously close to lapping up the soup before Bodahn shouted at him harshly. "No! No, Regus!"
Regus whimpered pitifully when the little dwarf used his foot to block the Mabari, having remarkable balance for a being so stocky and short. The hound let out a sound of frustration and then defeat as Bodahn pushed harder, forcing Regus away from the bowls of food.
Once the Mabari went away, head bowed in defeat, Bodahn grumbled something about spoiled hounds before clearing his throat and finally taking in the scene of two men wrapped in a clearly intimate embrace.
The Wardens saw their merchant blush faintly before politely stepping back out and heard him shout out that their bowls would be by their usual sitting spots, with Regus chained very far away from them. A pained whimper could be heard in response and then an exquisite sound burst in the tent. It was laughter, rich in timbre and light in tone. Alistair realized with a shock that he had never heard his older counterpart laugh like that. He heard him emit various sounds: a growl of frustration, a sarcastic chuckle, and pained moans. But never had he heard him laugh like that before. It made him smile warmly at the still laughing man in his arms. However, it seemed as if the dwarf's entrance brought some sense into the other man for Hadrian pulled himself out of his embrace, albeit rather reluctantly.
Alistair moaned at the loss of that wondrous heat. Hadrian, for his part, gave him a deep look and cupped his cheek in one hand. There was a hopeful sparkle in those cerulean orbs and Alistair found himself being tugged forward, only to feel a pair of chapped lips brush with his.
The kiss wasn't intense but it seemed as if his very soul burned with desire. Feelings of closeted desire, of pure longing for this man, shoved those doors open, doors once closed due to the teachings of the Chantry. /It is a sin to the Maker to indulge yourself in bodily desires./ The Revered Mother's frail voice spoke to him but for once, just this once, Alistair the Grey Warden pushed aside her teachings. He had longed to experience the here and now, to feel the joys of being human, the joys of being wanted.
"I don't know if this is what you really want," Hadrian whispered against his lips. "But, perhaps in time, we'll know for sure."
For an inexplicable reason, the last statement was both sad and uplifting at the same time. Sad because it meant that Hadrian didn't believe that his motives were genuine, that the only reason why he took care of him last night was due to the influence of being the Alpha. In spite of that uncertainty though, Alistair felt hopeful because Hadrian was willing to give him a chance to prove him wrong, to show him that he really did care for the Cousland.
No more was said between them. As the two Wardens walked into the daylight, they both made silent vows. Alistair vowed that he would everything in his power to make his friend happy, to have him be his. Hadrian vowed that though he hated the fact that Alistair was being forced into this, he would support him in every way, even if it meant setting aside his noble pride and submit.
-TBC-
Please, please review! I probably don't deserve it considering that I haven't updated for more than a month and the shortness of this chappie, but a review always makes my day!
What happens next: The Hawkes arrived safely in Kirkwall only to stumble into another problem: Uncle Gamlen! Also, what will Loren do when he is confronted with ghosts of the future and figures of the past?