Managing the Beast

Blake watched Alistair leave out of the corner of his eye. He envied the templar. He might have a difficult road ahead of him but at least he was on a path which might give him his heart's desire. He couldn't envision a similar happy ending for himself, not since Zevran's confession at Redcliffe. He knew that he could find some release with Package, though that was playing against her need, and he didn't want to do that. He wondered what happened with other Griffonsong, assuming there were any. He resolved the next time they were near a fairly clean brothel he would take advantage of what they had to offer. Somehow that thought didn't make him feel any better.

Everybody ate well. Leliana was talking to Sten hoping to learn more about him and the Qunari. Zevran was being equally irritating to the two mages, to Blake's amusement. One advantage to a Warden's appetite: eating was such serious business nobody was willing to interrupt him. Soon everybody else went to their rooms and he was able to spread the items belonging to the attackers on one of the tables. He was making notes in his journal and slowly drinking some ale when he heard a rustling sound. He looked up to see Morrigan approaching. Silently he waited while she sat down.

In their room Alistair pushed open the door and saw Jannasilane standing on the bed and leaning against the wall, still dressed in her robe. He cocked an eyebrow and offered her the tray. She picked up a fruit tart and bit into it. Alistair was transfixed as he watched the juice dribble down her chin until she wiped it with one finger, a finger which she slowly put into her mouth and sucked clean. "Put the tray on the table, Alistair," she softly commanded in a husky voice. He shut the door with the back of his foot and did as she bade. Quickly he began removing his armor until she stopped him, "No, my Ali, I want to watch you disrobe slowly so I can enjoy the movement of all your muscles."

For a moment Alistair froze with sheer lust. He stared at her and surely she should have been burned by the heat in his gaze before he, very slowly, began removing his armor. He only looked away from her to hang his armor and clothing on the hooks provided. Her breathing quickened as more of him came into view. She was hypnotized by the movement of muscle on muscle. When he was fully naked she sucked in her breath, "Maker, he is so beautiful," and couldn't conceal her own lust from him, which caused him to swell even more. "This is a beautiful bed, come and lie down, Alistair." He could no more resist her siren's call than he could stop the sun from rising in the morning. He lay down, looking up at her and knowing instinctively he shouldn't reach for her just then. "Place your hands on the headboard behind you and do not let go until I say," she directed. He hesitated for a heartbeat and she questioned him, "Do you not trust me, my Alistair?"

"With everything I am and everything that I will ever become," he answered promptly. He grasped the headboard and waited with curiosity and anticipation.

Tenderness filled her gaze for a moment and then Jannasilane moved until she was standing over and straddling his feet. "I always feel your gaze watching me, Alistair." She smoothed her hands over her breasts and down her sides, his eyes tracking every movement. She loosened her robe and lowered it until her breasts were free. She held them in her hands, "Do you like what you see, my Ali," never doubting the answer. He positively groaned when she slowly shrugged it off and she was standing naked before him. She knelt and he swore he could feel her heat scant inches from his skin. She caressed his calves and kneaded the muscles before slowly moving to his thighs, "You have such strong legs, muscles upon muscles, no wonder you wear that heavy armor with such ease." She trailed her fingers into a brief caress of his manhood, "so mighty," she breathed.

Alistair nearly whimpered when she moved. She circled his navel with her fingers and his skin quivered. "Sometimes when your chin rasps across my belly or you lick me just so I feel a hot spear of desire down to my curling toes," and promptly demonstrated, causing him to jump and moan. She lightly rapped his manhood in rebuke, "be still." Her hands massaged his abdomen and up his chest, tangling in his chest hair. "Have I ever told you how much I enjoy playing with your hair on your chest? So thick and curly and crinkly."

"If this is torture I hope it goes on for a long time," Alistair thought when she bent down and licked one of nipples and tweaked the other with her fingers. She nuzzled his chest hair and began nibbling along his shoulder and neck. "Or maybe not," when she teased his earlobe gently between her teeth and whispered soft kisses across his cheeks to his mouth. He opened for her dancing tongue and stopped breathing when she moved above him. He closed his eyes and savored the sensations.

When she moved away he opened his eyes to see her breasts swaying temptingly above him. He licked suddenly dry lips. "Alistair, I love the feel of your tongue and lips on my breasts," she moved so one nipple was touching his mouth. She moaned with pleasure when he engulfed it, his teeth and tongue performing intricate movements which nearly had her writhing with need. "Must, must play fair," she was breathing harshly as she moved so he could pay attention to the other one. The stubble on his chin rasping against her skin was nearly too much but she was determined to finish as she planned and with great reluctance she moved away and sat above his groin, his manhood at her back.

He nearly howled in frustration and she was quivering all over. "Alistair, I want you to bend your knees so I can brace myself against your strong thighs." He gulped and complied. His eyes glazed as she knelt, braced against his legs and less than in inch between his tip and her entrance. Jannasilane watched his eyes track the movements of her hands as she bunched her breasts together and lightly stroked them with her fingers. They gleamed when she slowly caressed her way down her torso to the curls between her legs. He trembled when one of her fingers disappeared in and out of sight, rhythmically brushing against his tip.

"Janna," he growled, his voice strained and husky with need, "I can't . . . hold . . . on much longer."

Her eyes glittered with sharp amber lights and she braced herself on his chest with one hand. With her damp finger she rubbed his lips, "Soon, my Ali, soon." For answer he caught her finger in his mouth, lightly biting and licking, tasting her essence. It was her turn to whimper. She sat back against his legs and breathed deeply. She never let her gaze leave his eyes as she slowly slid down until she was barely in contact with his straining member. "Now, Ali, now you can let go."

The words were barely past her lips when his hands were on her hips and then with one thrust he was buried in damp heat. "Maker, yes!" he yelled, for once not caring if he was heard throughout Thedas. He wouldn't let her move; she was going to have to ride it out. She grabbed onto his forearms and braced herself until they were both falling into the abyss. She collapsed against his chest, mewing softly. He used his remaining strength to move his hands from her hips to her rear and stroked gently. They could feel each other's heart pounding with exertion until gradually their heartbeats calmed to a more normal rhythm. "Maker, Janna," Alistair began when he realized he could breathe again, "that was . . . wow. Why? You don't normally, I'm not complaining mind you, but why?"

It seemed a long time before she answered. "I am sorry, Alistair," her first words surprised him. "I should not have used you like that." Jannasilane sighed and sat up beside him, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I have been thinking; I may not be able to control the Need but perhaps I can manage it. A little. I do not ever want to be like I was in Denerim if I can help it. I, this may sound odd, but I thought I might take advantage of it to, um, well, learn." She turned away from him then, "And maybe I still wanted to punish you, make you feel a little of how I feel about the, the lack of control."

Alistair blinked several times as he struggled to process everything she was saying, "O-kay, heavy waters here, Alistair you better be very careful in how you reply." He sat up and noticed the table of food and was suddenly ravenous. He plucked his love into his arms and stood, swaying only slightly, and walked the three steps before sitting down again in a chair with Jannasilane still in his arms. He settled her in his lap before breaking off some bread and handing it to her, "Eat. We both need some food." Startled she looked up at him only to find her gaze skittering away. She concentrated on eating, nibbling really, the bread he gave her. For a moment Alistair gave his full attention to making a sandwich with the dried meat and cheese. He sliced some more to have it ready before taking a bite.

He chewed, thinking how to answer her. He kept one arm around her so she couldn't squirm away, though she showed no signs of doing so. He wondered if it was perverse of him to enjoy sitting at the table like this, both of them naked and decided he didn't really care. He took a sip of wine before speaking, "First, I understand how angry you feel about not having control over something so basic." If she had looked up just then she would have seen an unaccustomed bleakness fall over his expression before he looked off into a distance only he could see. "Most of my life I've been angry because other people were making decisions about my life, everything about my life, with no regard to what I wanted or even needed. Duncan knew I wanted to leave the Chantry but he had to invoke the Right of Conscription to do it. I believe the Grey Wardens are a worthy order, even though I've had to adjust some of my thinking, and their goal is certainly a worthy one. But still I did not get to choose."

Jannasilane stirred in his arms and looked up at him, "Oh, Ali, I am so sorry. I was not even thinking of that."

Alistair kissed away the tears trembling on her lashes. "Don't fret, my love, I think it's easier for me because I know who to blame. I can focus my anger on Isolde, Eamon, Maric, even the Grand Cleric. You don't have a target for your anger, not a living one anyway." She relaxed against him and reached for more bread and meat. He breathed out a mental sigh of relief, "You know, I'm not sure I feel punished enough. You'll have to be more thorough next time." He grinned and kissed the top of her head when she elbowed him but made no attempt to move out of his embrace. They ate companionably for several minutes, concentrating on slaking their hunger. "So, what did you mean by managing your need and learning?"

"I do not know much about s-sex," she replied, trying not to stutter. "The, the Need means that I am almost forced to achieve a, a, I guess you could say a level of sat-satisfaction whether the," she huffed in frustration, "whether the particular, umm, activity is one I would choose for myself." Her lips curled slightly as she recalled an incident with Riordan near Denerim when they were hiding from some troops. She brooded for a moment and Alistair decided he really did not want or need to know what Riordan did which caused that reaction. "On the other hand," she finally continued, "this does mean I can more easily try things which I would not ordinarily think to do. I do not think I would have thought of you, me and Blake being together without the Need driving me to insanity. I was surprised that I enjoyed it as much as I did, I only expected to relieve the Need but it was more."

"So you might find physical satisfaction because of the Need without feeling any personal pleasure; you can tell the difference between what satisfies the Need alone and what satisfies you as well?" Alistair wanted to make sure he understood what she was saying. She nodded, pleased he understood the difference. "So if I, or your partner wants to do something you never thought about you can take it as a, I dunno, a learning experience? And the worst that would happen is the Need is taken care of and you know you don't really want to do that, whatever that is?"

"Well, I suppose it would be worse if I did not choose to be with that person and they had no concern or respect for me and did not care how they left me." Alistair couldn't argue with that. "If I, Jannasilane Alenahaella, do not care for what you do I will tell you. As part of managing, well, you do not need to wait until I feel Need clawing at me, Alistair. I know you have been holding back, did you think I did not notice your desire?"

"I never, ever wanted to take advantage of you or your condition, my love. I wanted to show you how much I respect you and how much you mean to me; and if that meant waiting until you felt Need then I was happy to wait. Just sleeping with you in my arms gives me a sense of happiness."

Jannasilane was touched, "I believe you, my Ali. I think I prefer to be able to choose when to be with you rather than be dictated to by Need. I also feel that the Need is less likely to take over if I do not wait for it." She grew positively coquettish and waggled her finger at him, "This does not mean I will say yes to your advances just because you ask. I could choose to say 'no,'" she playfully warned him.

"Yes, but not tonight. Not when you're sitting naked in my arms and we're mere steps away from a giant bed. I have the sudden urge to taste some Janna Wine," he growled and picked her up as well as grabbing the bottle of wine. She giggled until he poured some of the wine on her breast and then licked it off. She gasped and willingly relinquished control.

Downstairs Morrigan didn't speak right away but when he started to go back to his journal she spoke up, "Warden, thank you." She watched Blake carefully. She did not like being in this position and was ready to leave if he so much as blinked in a way she didn't like. "In your position you could have easily taken the single room and I would have been forced to either share with the Chantry duo or make my own arrangements; both would have been less comfortable."

"You're welcome, though I feel obliged to point out that Alistair was worried you might turn Leliana into a toad if you were forced to spend the night in the same room." He was intrigued to see her mouth twitch slightly in what could only be amusement. "Do you mind if I ask you something? What was it like growing up in the Wilds? Weren't you ever lonely?"

"Why do you ask such questions? I don't bother you with such things," she replied crossly.

"It's one of my favorite ways to annoy you," he retorted.

"So I've noticed." Once again Blake saw her mouth twitch. "Very well, if you must know I shall answer. I am not sure if I was lonely or not since 'twas only Flemeth and I in that hut, and she kept me quite busy teaching me her magic. Even my, I suppose you would call it play time, I was often running through the Wilds with the wolves or flying as an owl. The animals themselves were my companions, though not my friends. Other people were far more alien to me and I did not miss what I did not understand. Once I saw a caravan stopped at the edge of the Wilds. A young girl with gold curls was looking at herself in a mirror and I was intrigued. It was gold and covered in gemstones. When I saw an opportunity I grabbed it and ran away hugging it to my chest, my own personal treasure."

"Was Flemeth upset?"

"Upset? No, she was furious. She grabbed the mirror out of my hands and dashed it to the ground, breaking it into hundreds of tiny pieces. I had risked bringing the templars or others to our door with my foolishness and she was determined to teach me a lesson. A pretty bauble or temporary pleasure is unimportant. Survival is important and must be taken into consideration with every action." She shook her head slightly, "You may not agree, Warden, but I would not be the mage I am without those lessons."

"You've certainly made a difference. I'm glad you decided to stay with us." Morrigan started to rise but Blake stopped her, "Morrigan, wait. I have something for you. I admit I forgot about it for a while and I also didn't want Wynne to see it in case she recognized it." He rummaged in the bottom of his pack and unwrapped the book he removed. "This is what you were hoping for, isn't it?"

Morrigan's eyes lit up, reminding Blake that she was an extraordinarily beautiful woman and perhaps not quite as cold as he and Alistair thought. "Mother's grimoire, you found it," she stroked the cover in reverence before looking up at Blake and smiling brilliantly. "Truly I did not expect you to be successful; it was such a small possibility. There is much Flemeth refused to teach me or tell me. I have much to learn, thank you Warden."

Just then they heard Alistair shout to the Maker. They looked up before Morrigan sniffed disdainfully. "Worshiping at the altar of the toy, I see," she muttered.

Blake laughed, "Worshipping at the . . . I like that. I'll have to use it on him, if you don't mind."

"Feel free; I have no inclination to spend much time in his company. Maybe I should be grateful to your toy for keeping him so occupied and away from me," she snorted. "Is that why you are down here?"

Blake shrugged, "sometimes writing things down helps me organize my thoughts or see things differently, remind me of something I forgot. I don't know what's going on with the whole Sacred Ashes business and would prefer to know a little bit more before we confront Weylon in Denerim. I want to question him before he knows something is wrong with his fellows. I really hate it when people send us into a trap," he said grimly.

The witch stifled a laugh and idly examined the bits and pieces on the table. She picked up a belt buckle and looked at it more closely, "This looks familiar. It doesn't make sense, though. What would a dragon cult have to do with Andraste's Ashes, if they even exist? We should be careful Warden. If we are indeed dealing with cultists then their fanaticism will drive them beyond any concern for personal safety." Finally she stood, "My thanks again, Warden, for both the room and the grimoire. Both are appreciated." She glided silently away.

Blake shook his head at the strange turn the night had taken. "Dragon cultists? I hope not," he muttered. He watched Morrigan leave. He still wasn't ready to trust her or call her friend, but she wasn't as cold or unlikeable as she tried to be. He went back to studying the items he retrieved from their attackers in the light of Morrigan's hypothesis and making more notes. He kept at it until he felt he had done as much as he could. Finally he stretched and gathered up his things to go to their room.

He was tired. He carefully turned the knob and was relieved to find it unlocked. He went inside and saw Alistair had left a lamp lit for him. "Honey, I'm home," he thought wryly and carefully hung up his armor before slipping into bed. "Sharing the bed is certainly different from sharing our tent," he struggled to get comfortable without disturbing the other two. His friend was on his back with arms around the pretty Package sprawled across his chest. She turned her head and looked at him sleepily. She smiled at him and reached for his hand before closing her eyes again. He kissed her fingers which caused her to snort softly in amusement and soon he, too, was asleep.