Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 12

Love Will Keep Us Together

Denerim – late that night

When next Elinora stirred, night had fully fallen. She had cried herself out, heartbreak catching up to her at last. Exhausted and drained, she tried unsuccessfully to sleep. She lay on her stomach, praying the bed would swallow her up.

Her door creaked open and, out of habit, Elinora gripped the dagger under her pillow. She knew who it was and left the dagger where it was.

Alistair sat heavily on the end of her bed, now out of armor and into a shirt and breeches. "I didn't accuse you of infidelity. That's my sin."

She sat up and hugged her knees. "I know. It was necessary. I forgave you for it a long time ago." She bit her lip a moment before asking, "Do you forgive me for every stupid thing I said back there?"

"Yes." Alistair turned his brown eyes to her blue-green. "Do you still want to marry me?"

"Yes, but more importantly, I want to be with you," she said fiercely. "Alistair, I can't even tell you how sick I am of someone or something else telling me what I can or can't do."

"What do you mean?"

"Things keep getting in our way." Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Someone doesn't want us to be together, someone who can pull the strings of the Chantry." A daring grin ghosted on her lips. "Sod 'em, I say."

Alistair chuckled hoarsely. "You sound like Oghren. But what if…"

"What?"

"What if the Maker really has forbidden…" Alistair trailed off. It sounded far more ridiculous outside his mouth.

Elinora, not the most religious of Fereldens, did not make fun. Alistair had been raised in the Chantry and still kept the faith even if it was with a grain of salt. "I don't believe it for a moment. I think the root of this is far more earthly. And when it comes down to it, Wardens don't answer to the Maker anymore than they do a king."

Alistair smiled wickedly. "That's nice and blasphemous."

"And yet no lightning bolts." She returned his grin, but it fell quickly. "Besides, the Chantry also teaches that the Maker has abandoned us for our sins. I don't think he's going to pop by Orlais and give the Divine new and oddly specific instructions on marriage."

Alistair chuckled lowly.

Elinora squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "When I said I don't need their approval, I meant it. We love each other and that's all that matters."

"Your mother would be appalled at her wanton daughter."

She snorted a little bitterly. "The last few years have changed the way I think about quite a few things. And leave my mother out of it."

He rose and reached out a hand to her. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

He smiled his old Alistair grin. "Don't you trust me?"

She took his hand and got out of bed.

The single candlestick Alistair carried did little to light the stairwell that circled the inside of the East Tower. Elinora stayed close to him, her hand still in his.

They came to a landing and a door. "Stay here a moment," he said, slipping inside the room with the candle. She hugged the wall in utter darkness. He reappeared a moment later without the candle, but a soft glow emanated from the room behind him.

Before she could dodge past him and into the room, Alistair pulled her close and kissed her tenderly. Without another word, he scooped her up and carried her over the threshold into the chamber.

What was it with men carrying her to bed?

"Welcome to the honeymoon suite, my love."

From his arms, she looked around as best she could. The room itself was smaller than her own, but decked out in all the finery that could be had. Besides the cold fireplace sat a small table, set for two. A sideboard held all sorts of dainties, including a bottle of champagne in a silver bucket of half-melted ice. In the corner was a changing screen and a vanity. She caught a glimpse of something on it, but not before Alistair moved for the opposite side of the room.

Alistair carried her to a white linened bed, covered with a scattering of red rose petals. He was about to set her down, when he paused and said, "Hello, what's this?"

Elinora craned her neck, trying to see what he was talking about, with no luck. "Put me down. I want to see," she demanded.

He set her down the edge of the bed and picked up the object in question; a parcel wrapped in white paper, tied with red ribbon and a tag with his name on it.

With a bit of suspicion, Elinora slipped off the bed and past Alistair to the vanity, which held a similar white package, this one tied with a peacock blue ribbon, and the tag had her name on it. She recognized the handwriting; Zevran's.

Alistair looked over at her. "Shall we open them?"

Elinora thought about it a moment, "Absolutely," then pulled the silk ribbon off. She remembered well Zevran's last present to her. Inside was not the detached body part she feared, but an article that made her blush to the ears.

She couldn't call it a dress because there wasn't enough of it and it definitely wasn't meant to be worn in public. Almost sheer ivory silk created a form-fitting bodice that flared into a very short skirt just under the breasts, much like the current Orlesian fashions. Shoulder straps hooked on the front and tie in the back would shape the bust line. She figured the skirting would hit about mid-thigh at best.

A note drifted to the floor. She picked it up and read silently:

Something to properly showcase that lovely bosom. Wear it in great pleasure. – Zevran

"What did you get?" Alistair's voice startled her. She clutched the negligee to her chest.

"Um… give me a minute and I'll show you." She slipped behind the changing screen. "What did you get?"

There was a pause. She could have sworn she heard him gulp, but maybe that was the swish of fabric over her head as she pulled off her tunic "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he choked.

Oh this is going to be interesting…

Ties tied and hooks hooked, she gave herself a quick look in the mirror. Sweet Andraste, this thing didn't even get to mid-thigh and her breasts had never been so well displayed. Showcase indeed. Her hair was a wreck, half in, half out of its braid, but she held off pulling off the tie.

Lascivious plans formulated in her head as she gauged her position from behind the screen. She had entered next to the vanity, but the sideboard was on the other side. Stepping out, she plucked a strawberry from a silver bowl and looked coyly to Alistair.

Who was staring at a book.

Elinora cleared her throat, which got his attention. She took a very slow bite of strawberry, her eyes boring into the startled king.

Alistair dropped the book.

"Ohhh," he breathed, blinking, "strawberries."

"Ripe, sweet and juicy." She tossed the cap onto an empty plate and sucked the juice off her fingers, slowly. From her mouth they moved to her hair, pulling off the tie that bound it. Chestnut locks fell, brushing the tops of her shoulders.

Alistair was dumbfounded. "Maker…" was all he managed.

She sidled up to him, hips rolling as she walked, and picked up the book he had dropped. Her eyes widened at the title. "The Skillful Courtier," she read aloud. The little red book was an infamous sex manual, derided by the Chantry and prudish mothers alike. "Zevran certainly has interesting taste in wedding gifts."

"Very, very interesting." His eyes raked up and down her body, ravenous with desire.

Elinora took a stop back and turned a slow circle. "I take it his majesty approves."

"His majesty wants to eat you up," he said in a husky tone. And then his stomach rumbled loud enough for her to hear it.

Elinora giggled. "Your majesty needs to eat something up. I suggest we start with a bit of cheese." She turned toward the sideboard, looking over her shoulder with a sultry glance, "and then the main course."

Alistair released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and followed her over to the food. She popped a nice bit of cheese into his mouth before he even asked.

"Mmmm… South Reach Cheddar, very mellow, yet distinctive." He sighed happily. "This is my new definition of paradise."

"Cheese?"

"You, cheese, time alone. The only that would make it perfect is if we really were married."

"We will be, we'll solve this."

"But when? I mean, we've only got so long…"

"And then there's children." She fixed her eyes on his. "I don't think we should wait on that."

"What?" Alistair stepped back, taking in full view of her, watching her body language. "Do you mean it?"

"Absolutely." With a beatific smile, she bit into another strawberry.

"Eat up then," he grabbed another bit of cheese. "We're going to need the energy to make a baby!"

Sunrise found them exhausted and glowing.

But not pregnant.

A/N: This is not the chapter I wanted to give you. That one was much more fun, but my brain has refused to cooperate. After wresting with it a bit, I've decided that I can't let my poor audience wait too long for the next installment. At some point I hope to replace this chapter with what it should be.