First, I want to say that the release of DA:2 will not have any impact whatsoever with this story, it's planned sequel, nor any of the other stories I have going. I felt it necessary to state this as I know of at least one story I was following where the author is abandoning it in favor of DA:2, comments from other authors re: how they are concerned DA:2 will affect their story, and then other stories that have gone silent. To my readers, know this: The creative juices that inspired these tales of mine are still there, regardless of a new game.
That being said, my thanks to everyone who lurks, reads, and alters. My special thanks go out to Erynnar for her wonderful shout out in her marvelous story, Soulmates. And, as always, special thanks to everyone who has reviewed: Shakespira, Nithu, mutive, Arsinoe de Blassenville, tgail73, Superstar Kid, CCBug, avekay, millahnna, Erina10, Biff McLaughlin
Finally, Kira Tamarion gave me my 300th review! Woot!
Oh, NSFW. Really.
The Halla Reborn
Chapter 53
The sounds of water running from the shower stall caught her attention. Finally divesting herself of her undergarments, she padded across the stone floor, naked, entering the bathing chambers to their bed chambers.
Everyone had managed to find time to, at the very least, rinse much of the dirt and grime from themselves before partaking of a great, huge meal in the common dining room. Deciding to discuss events later, to give everyone a chance to rest and restore themselves, Adela and Alistair had retired to their own chambers.
She paused, taking in the sight of her husband - as naked as she - as he washed himself in the shower stall that stood against the far wall of the bathing room. Her eyes took in the sight of him, from where his hands were tangled in his hair - longer from their time in the Deep Roads - rinsing the final remnants of the liquid soap from his hair, across his broad shoulders, down his well muscled back to his narrow hips and tight buttocks. Her gaze lingered there for a moment before finishing their survey down his long, strong legs.
Another thing she had hated about the Deep Roads, other than the oppressiveness and death filled chambers and tunnels, was the inability for the couple to find any alone time. They had been allowed no moments for intimacy, sleeping in their armor and then for only brief moments of time as they were constantly assailed by the vile denizens that has usurped the dwarven underways so long ago. Well, she thought as she paused, once again casting an appreciative eye upon her husband's nude form, that will have to be rectified.
Hot water splashed along the tiles of the wall and floor of the stall, reminding the young elf of heavy rainfall back at the Alienage. As she stepped into the stall, water splashed along her breasts and abdomen, cascading down her legs as she raised a hand to delicately trace of Alistair's skin. She watched as the muscles beneath the taut flesh rippled slightly at her touch, and a moan of contentedness rumbled from his throat.
Alistair turned, visibly pleased by the appearance of his very naked wife, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. He bent his head down, capturing her lips with his, pressing firmly against her pliant mouth, coaxing her lips open as he swept his tongue along the lines of her full lips, delving into her eager mouth. Moaning, Adela pressed herself tighter against him, her arms rising up to smooth over along his shoulders and back, moving down to trace lightly over his buttocks. Alistair turned her so that she was fully under the blast of water, pulling away as he carefully stroked her hair back, allowing the water to penetrate deeply to her scalp.
Adela moaned at the attention her husband gave her, relishing the feel of his hands tangled deep into her hair, pulling the strands between his fingers as the water drenched through. She frowned slightly as he pulled away, but was soon rewarded for her patience as he returned, liquid soap in his hands, working it through her thick hair. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face slightly, enjoying the slight misting of water across her eyes and lips, listening as Alistair hummed along as he washed her hair.
After gently rinsing the soap from her hair, Alistair bent down once again to kiss his wife. As she smiled, he kissed along, tracing both of her lips, traveling along her soft cheek to her high cheekbones, finally trailing small kisses across her eyes. That wanton look once more in her eyes, she kissed him once, before kneeling down before him, her hand grasping his length tightly. He shuddered, jerking once as he placed his hands upon the stone wall behind her, closing his eyes as she slowly licked at his tip, teasing the pre-cum that glistened thereupon. When a small moan escaped his lips, she smirked up at him, watching as he opened his eyes to stare into hers. Quirking a brow at him, she opened her mouth, fully taking him with long, slow sucks, her tongue playing along his length as she moved along him.
Her pace quickened, and his hips thrust slightly, meeting her movements with his own. His hands released their hold upon the wall to tangle in her long locks, his head tilted back and he continued to thrust into her mouth, careful not to delve too deeply. Adela hummed deep in her throat, the vibration working up to her mouth, and along the tip of his erection. Finally, he gasped, pulling away from her. She looked up, startled, as he pulled himself free of her lips and hand.
"Please, love," he murmured as he reached down to pull her to her feet, "If you keep that up, I won't last long."
With a sigh, she raised her arms, wrapping them around his neck, tangling her hands in his hair. Hoping he had no intention of cutting his locks, she gave a pull, bringing his face nearer and down to her lips. Pressing her body against his, she could feel his desire pressed against her belly.
"I need you," she murmured against his lips, and, with a smirk, Alistair broke the kiss, traveling down her neck and across her shoulder, down her arm, and then across the tops of her breasts. Easily, as though she weighed nothing, Alistair pulled her up into his arms, several inches from the floor. Instinctively, giving in to the desire and need that swept over her, she wrapped her legs around his narrow hips, pressing against his erection, pressing hard against him as he bent his head to taste one pink nipple.
She felt more than heard his moan as it rumbled in his chest, vibrating along her side as he bent to kiss and suckle at her breast. Adela shifted subtly, brushing against him, causing that moan to increase to a gasping groan as he paused in his ministrations, his breath hot and moist against her skin, even hotter than the water showering them from the marvelous dwarven construction.
Without a word, Alistair straightened, his lips once more on hers as he shifted her upwards, bringing her level with him, pressing her back against the smooth, stone wall as he adjusts himself at her passage. Adela fought a moment of panic, when body memory threatened to overtake her passion and fill her with terrible memory. She pushed it down because this is what she wanted, what she desperately needed. The weeks without any physical connection made that time in the deep dark even more unbearable, and now that she had him, fully, she would not allow herself to retreat into the fear that, every now and again, threatened to overtake her.
She pushed her fear aside, pressing her lips to his, hungrily tasting him, biting at his lower lip as she adjusted her hips level with his own. She pulled back, a lustful glimmer in her eyes as she pulls her knees toward her, bringing her legs up, resting her feet upon Alistair's shoulders. His eyes darkened with passion further, and, without a word, with a groan only, he thrust deeply into her, the angle she now rested in his arms and upon him allowing him deep entry into her.
Sheathed in her moist warmth, he began to move, slowly, teasingly, in and out of her. Her own eyes dilated and darkened, and she tilted her head back, against the stone, her lips parted, tongue darting along her lips as Alistair watched for a moment before lying his head upon her shoulder, his pace increasing slightly.
She tightened around him, gripping him firmly, forcing a deep groan from his lips. His pace quickened as she continued to grasp and release him, teasing him. Twisting her head, she gently moved closer, her tongue tracing along the outer shell of his ear, her breath hot and moist upon his face.
The water continued to cascade over the coupling pair, splashing about them, fogging the room in moist heat. Sweat mingled with steam upon his flesh as his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent. Growling, he pulled Adela from the wall, fully encompassing her in his arms, his mouth capturing hers in a brutal kiss as he jerked once more, fully sheathed within her, spending himself deeply within her. Adela bit down upon his lip, drawing blood, as she followed him with her own climax.
Panting, foreheads pressed against one another as Adela brought her now aching legs from his shoulders, hanging limply in his arms, the pair murmured their love for one another as they kissed. Taking a deep breath, Adela tangled her hands once more in his mane, pulling his mouth to hers as she eagerly tasted of him again.
"I should hope that you are not done for the evening," she breathed at him.
Panting, Alistair shook his head. "Where do you wish to be, my love?" he asked as he glanced over to the tub and then toward the bedroom.
Grinning, she pressed her body against his before saying, "I don't care if you take me on the Common's floor, so long as you take me."
The command was shameless, lust filled and, already hard, Alistair heaved his wife over his shoulder, taking long strides across the floor. With one hand, he pulled free a large drying cloth, tossed it upon the floor, and then settled down on his knees, laying Adela upon her back, upon the floor. Settling herself, legs apart, she reached up for him, pulling him down. In one quick motion, he was sheathed within her once more.
DA:O
Adela glanced over to where Serena sat, patiently listening as Lord Harrowmont outlined his plans for gathering the dwarven troops that would be called from each house to travel to the surface and battle against the Blight. They sat at a round table, an impressively accurate raised-relief map of the entirety of Fereldan. Every known town in Fereldan was marked, the topographical map contoured to accurately display every mountain, hill, rise, valley, river and lake, distances accurately and painstakingly scaled to within a quarter of a mile of each landmark. Smiling at childhood memories, Adela thought that Loghain would love to add this map to his vast collection.
They all agreed that, ultimately, the Grey Wardens would be in command of the armies once gathered, with each battalion headed by a commander, who would report directly to Adela and the other Wardens.
"House Helmi is being rather obstinate at the moment," Lord Harrowmont pointed out to the Serena, who merely snorted with a grin at his comments. The elderly politician sighed with a shake of his head.
"You're not surprised?" Adela asked as she turned to her friend.
The Queen shook her head, "No. House Helmi will fall in line. They are loyal to a fault. However, I think that they are being obstinate because of my having beaten their champion in the proving."
Lord Harrowmont shook his head as the two women chuckled over that, looking over to Alistair and Oghren to try and keep things moving. Both men simply shrugged their shoulders at the elder man, small smiles of sympathy plastered upon their faces.
After wiping her eyes clear of her tears of laughter, Serena turned her attention fully to her general. "Pyral," he lifted his head, smiling, "I have an idea that will help swell the ranks of those warriors going to the surface to battle the blight." She leaned back her chair, smiling, glancing over at Adela. Lord Harrowmont stared at the queen for a moment before she continued. "And, it will be a plan that none of the warrior class would be able to argue against."
"What plan, exactly, Serena?" Pyral asked, not bothering with protocol during their closed door meeting. After all, the only ones present were the Warden Commander, her second, Oghren, himself and the Queen. Even the bodyguards Pyral had assigned her were now waiting outside of the chamber.
Serena was silent for a moment, and Lord Harrowmont felt a moment of trepidation flow through him. He knew well Bhelan's plans to completely dissolve the caste system, thereby catapulting their entire social structure into a mass of chaos. Trian had been more of a conservative, as had his father, willing to allow the system to continue on as it had for countless generations.
Serena, however, had been more moderate, taking the ideals from both sides of the debate and forming her own opinion. It was what had made her such a popular choice for the throne should Trian prove unworthy of such a position or had he died under less than suspicious circumstances. As for Lord Harrowmont himself, he preferred to leave things as they were. In his mind, there was nothing to fix as nothing was broken.
The wolfish smile, however, that crossed the queens beautiful face did nothing to quell the sick feeling in his stomach.
"Serena…" he began, shaking his white head.
"Calm yourself, Cousin," Serena quietly reprimanded. "We all know that we have a veritable army in Dust Town, people - yes people! - more than willing to help in the defense of Orzammar."
"How can you be so certain of this, Serena?" the elderly man questioned, trying to maintain his seating.
The smile remained and she nodded to Oghren. Matching her grin with his own, the warrior stood and went to the door, stepping aside as a pretty dwarven woman, carrying a babe, walked in, hesitating and shy, until she spied Serena and the kind smile she gave her. Shyly, she returned the smile, and then approached the table. Oghren remained by the door, ducking his head out to speak to someone who stood just outside.
"Lord Harrowmont, I am certain you recall that my brother had taken a casteless woman as his concubine and is the mother of his first born," Serena waved a hand at the pretty red head, the side of her smile rising slightly at the discomfort she found in her general's posture.
"That….Serena!"
"Rica Brosca, concubine to the late Prince Bhelan," Serena paused there, recalling the reports that her brother's body had been found several miles in to the Deep Roads, surrounded by many darkspawn before succumbing to his wounds. "This little one," she waggled her fingers at the baby, who cooed and grinned at his aunt, reaching out to grasp her fingers. "Is little Endrin." She cast a sidelong glimpse to her father's best friend, watching as a grimace crossed his face.
"Why, may I ask, is she here?" Pyral finally found his voice, and his temper.
Serena shrugged, smiling back at Rica. The pretty woman, with her traditional dwarven beauty of womanly curves, deep red hair, green eyes, a perky nose and generous mouth, smiled back as she bounced little Endrin upon one curvy hip. "As for the moment, little Endrin here is my sole surviving relative of the Aeducan line." She looked the noble fully in the face, taking note of the anger that now tinged his features. "Where else would he, and his mother, be but at the palace where I can protect them?"
Adela and Alistair exchanged uneasy looks, wondering just where this conversation was going. Serena had already told Adela about Rica, and the elf had already met the pleasant and quiet dwarven woman prior to the meeting. However, knowing how conservative Lord Harrowmont was, the elf - and dwarven queen - were both certain he would object strenuously to Rica's presence.
Apparently Serena felt it necessary to introduce the other woman before setting out the rest of her plans.
"Rica, as well as her sister," she turned to nod to Oghren, who stepped aside to admit another dwarven woman - barely a girl - into the room.
While Rica was all feminine curves, well groomed hair and carefully made up perfection, this one was slighter, more slender. Obviously female, her curves was more akin to Adela's than Rica's - slender to non-existent. A mop of unruly blond curls framed a cherubic face marked by the faded scar that was the brand of a casteless, large, blue eyes taking in everything - from the carpeting to the golden statues in the corners - her full lipped mouth straight. Dressed in leathers, twin daggers hung from her hips, a crossbow at her back. She moved with a grace that spoke of battle weariness rather than the practiced grace of a noble that Rica exuded.
"This is Natia, Rica's younger sister. She is our scout, and has become very valued in my negotiations thus far."
Natia stood by Rica, watching and listening, while a hand reached out for her young nephew to play with. Harrowmont had now stood up from his seat, his gray eyes fixed upon the duster in their midst. It was obvious to him that, while her sister had been a made up noble hunter, the girl had been little more than a thug. Her eyes settled upon his face, wary, her posture assuming that of a very small animal, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.
Rica reached over and gently patted her sister upon one rigid shoulder, and the girl relaxed visibly.
"Pyral, just sit your arse down and listen," Serena almost chuckled, glancing over as Oghren resumed his seat with the wardens. A few moments passed, and then Harrowmont finally sat back down, waving a hand slightly to indicate that his queen continue.
"I am, by no means, suggesting that the casteless be allowed to join the warrior caste, or any caste at this time, either. What I am suggesting is that those within Dust Town who are capable join the city's army, under the command of warriors from the various noble houses, and make their way to the surface. A few will even join up with the Legion and follow Kardol's command."
Pyral settled back into his seat, his hands steepled before his face. A thoughtful expression crossed his face, and as he pondered, Serena bade Rica return to her chambers, leaving Natia with them.
The young casteless girl shifted her feet uneasily as Serena turned to face her general. "I have spoken with Oghren and several other members of the warrior caste, and they all seem to think that the idea will work. There were a few…politely dissenting voices," she grinned at her use of 'politely'. Amongst the dwarva, especially the highly vocal and strongly opinionated warrior caste, that was a term used in the most loose of interpretations. However, she had been pleased by the overall outcome of the meeting, and felt bolstered by the caste's support of her idea.
"And what of after the battle, Serena?" Pyral asked, frowning now as he looked over his fingertips to the more than should be smug expression upon the lovely dwarf's face.
"You mean, do I just toss the casteless back to Dust Town and, yet again, continue to forget their very existence as has happened for countless generations?" the smug expression was replaced by one of quiet, thoughtful ire and she gave a firm shake of her head. "No, I do not. I know full well that many of those will prove themselves in battle, and those surviving will more than likely be offered positions within several houses. Those that do not will be formed into a city guard, not a guard serving specific houses that volunteer their warriors to guard duty, but working for the city itself." She smiled at Pyral's twitching brow. "And then we move on to absorbing the rest of the casteless into the city ranks."
"And those that are truly criminals?" the dwarven noble asked, ignoring the speculative looks from the elf and human in their midst as Natia continued to shuffle her feet nervously.
"I have been considering that as well," that smile remained, confident. "We all know full well that most of the denizens of Dust Town are the descendants of criminals, outcast nobles, and such. The sins of the father being weighed down upon the son mentally must end. It is hurting our race far more than it has ever benefited it."
"So you will just let these criminals partake in castes that have worked hard to maintain their status?"
"Hardly. And, worked hard?" Serena scoffed. "Hardly. They are born into their profession, a guarantee of work. Tell me truthfully, Pyral." She leaned forward in her seat, her hazel eyes hard and penetrating. "How many nobles actually work hard to maintain their position within the Assembly? Oh, it is easy to line palms with gold and ore, but to actually work toward whatever is best for the dwarven race rather than for what benefits their house? I've seen it in all too few houses, and that, too must end." She shook her head. "The true criminals, those who earned their status as casteless, will, for the time being, be separated from those others in Dust Town. I believe that there are…dungeons beneath Dust Town, where the carta used to have their hide out." She smiled over at the duster, who shyly smiled back. "Thanks to Natia here, that will no longer be a problem."
Pyral's brows knitted together, once more in thought. "What have you in mind?" He asked.
However, Serena merely waved a hand. "I would rather get our armies together to battle the Blight first, and then we can move on to more….interesting battles thereafter." Her grin was contagious, and soon, the conservative nobleman found himself smiling back at her.
Satisfied she had Lord Harrowmont's full support, Serena turned to the Grey Wardens. "Our troops begin to assemble, even now. Most of our houses are intelligent enough to realize the danger of a Blight, and, fortunately for us, many of them are seeking my favor," she turned that wolfish grin to her general once more. "Especially those that had sided with Bhelan against me when those charges were so falsely made."
This time, Lord Harrowmont returned that wolfish smile, and it was then that Adela fully saw the family resemblance.
Leaning back in her chair, the Warden Commander nodded her head, and then looked over at the young dwarven girl who had stood, quietly, with them all this time.
"Natia will be serving as our runner," the elf turned to Pyral. "She will take missives to the network of runners that will be set up along all routes between Redcliffe, Orzammar, Lake Calenhad, Gwaren and Denerim. That way, we can send as accurate and current a message regarding where to assemble our troops without having to make the weeks-long journey to Orzammar ourselves."
Pyral Harrowmont nodded his white and gray head, approving. His gray eyes shifted the girl, appraising her, taking in her wiry limbs and barely restrained energy. "That is a fine idea, Commander," he finally approved, turning that smile to the elf and the others. Looking back at his queen, he said, "I believe that this will work fine, Serena."
Relaxing back in her chair, her fingers lightly tapping the ornate armrest to her throne-like chair, Serena nodded her head. "With the dwarves on their side," she waved a hand to her Warden friends, "the wardens should have no difficulty quelling the Blight."
Chuckling at that, Harrowmont agreed with a nod as he and the others leaned back over the map upon the table before them.
DA:O
Their days left in Orzammar were filled with strategic meetings with Serena and Harrowmont, gathering supplies and preparing for their journey back to Redcliffe.
Their nights were passion filled, with Adela becoming more insistent and taking more control of their love making. Even if initially taken aback by her unusual aggressiveness, Alistair had been pleasantly pleased by some of the…innovative ideas his wife had come up with for their love sessions.
Eventually, the day of departure arrived, and the group found themselves standing at the great doors leading from Orzammar back to the surface. Bodahn Feddic had restocked his wagon with new supplies, taking care to maintain an area within his wagon for the Wardens' heavier and extra supplies. The merchant seemed to enjoy as the line of dwarven servants carried out their new purchases, directing them as to where to place each and every item.
The last burden to be brought out for placement in the wagon was the carefully wrapped and preserved body of the young elven mage, Artemis. As they passed by the Wardens and their companions, a solemn silence fell over the group, giving respect to the young elf that had perished to become a grey warden. This honorable burden was reverently placed at the back of the wagon, the dwarves handling the solemn burden quiet and respectful as they arranged him.
After several moments, with a smile, Serena pulled the young elf into a strong embrace. "Thank you, my friend," the dwarven queen whispered into the elven commander's ear. Pulling back, she said, "For everything. If not for you…"
Adela shook her head, returning the smile. "You did it all, Serena," she answered. "The people love you. I think that you will be a good queen."
With a sigh, the dwarven queen nodded her head, "I certainly hope so." Her hazel eyes wandered to where Oghren stood, quietly for a change, watching the great doors with an expression mixed with trepidation and concern. "Take care of him, will you?" she looked back to her friend. "He has been through much, and is a very good and loyal friend."
Adela's eyes shifted to the warrior, who was now watching Serena with an expression the elf had never seen on the taciturn dwarf's face. Startled, she glanced back, but Serena was embracing Alistair, bidding her farewells to her new friends. She looked back, but the warrior was, once again, watching the doors, his expression hidden from her.
Finally, they were ready, and, with a final farewell to those dwarves who had gathered to see the Grey Wardens off, the group watched as the great doors were slowly opened, revealing a bright day, cool wind whispering through the aperture. With a final look back, the Warden Commander led her group out into the openness that had been denied them for far too long.
