I was imagining something more adult, but the text just didn't go there, even though my brain did. My writing seems to be stuck in fluffy, light romance, comical, undressed Alistair land. Sorry?
Placed somewhere after the camp snogging has begun, but before any actual licking of lampposts.
She could not take her eyes away from his bare chest.
She had seen human boys have similar reactions to Morrigan, when they visited Denerim. It felt awful not to be able to wield any control over her eyes, but at the same time, it was hard to bring herself to care. His body was glistening with sweat in the weak morning sun, the muscles dancing under his tanned skin. It was like a symphony of movement and the way his muscles flexed and worked…was making her think of extremely inappropriate things. Since those things was only based on tales from her cousin, and information gleamed from books; she did not even have a clear picture of what it was looking at him made her want.
"Ooooh, Alistair is chopping wood!" Leliana squealed happily, stepping out from her tent and assessing the situation in one glance. "This is always my favourite part of the morning."
Allira felt some small part of her object most forcibly to the way the other woman was eyeing Alistair. Still, it was not as if she owned him or anything. They had just exchanged gifts and…spoken… a lot under the stars. That sort of thing didn't necessarily signify anything. Or did it?
No matter, her thoughts zoomed back to the matters at hand when Alistair bent to stack a pile of wood. His hindquarters weren't bad either.
"That man has so much to recommend himself," Leliana murmured approvingly.
"You missed it when he took of his shirt," Allira smirked, happy she at least had that one over the other woman.
Unaware of his enthusiastic audience, Alistair continued to chop wood. Their many campfires needed a lot of fuel, and whenever he came back to camp, and became restless, he would chop up some new stacks. It usually made him sweat and remove his shirt, but he had no idea how hot and bothered it made his fellow Grey Warden.
Alistair was just innocent that way.
He swung the axe down with powerful determination, and then stopped to wipe the sweat away from his face with his forearm. Then he arched his back, as if it was a little sore (it made Leliana exhale and give a low whistle) and looked around. The human rogue managed to avert her gaze just in time and appear oblivious. Allira, though she was forged in the Denerim Alienage and was usually quicker, did not.
In fact he caught her staring blatantly, perhaps even drooling a little.
Alistair caught her eye and smiled brightly, making her blush something awful. In the corner of her eye, she saw Leliana strolling away, grinning like mad.
Sticking the axe to the log with one firm movement, Alistair sauntered over to Allira.
There was no way he walked like that if he wasn't aware of how…nice he looked bare-chested. He came to stand close to her, once again wiping his forehead.
"Nice morning, heh?" he said amiably.
Having come face to chest with him, Allira could manage no verbal reply. Did all templars look like this? No other man she had ever seen had had a body with that…definition. She could not avoid looking at his naked chest, however she tried. Why had the maker saw fit to make elves shorter than humans? Was that some kind of perverted joke from his side?
"Pardon?"
What. Had she said that out loud? Was this really the end of her life, by means of mortification, instead of just an ordinary day?
"I wasn't even trying to be funny. I think it is a fine day," he said, sounding a little hurt.
Painful death by mortification. Perhaps she could drown in his eyes, but then she would die happily and that wasn't the point.
"I was…just…thinking," she managed to choke forth. "It wasn't meant for you."
He seemed justly confused by that.
"Perverted jokes from whom? Oh, did Leliana sing you one of her lewd songs again?" He looked at her pityingly. "I know the feeling. She made me blush like a teenager. And that was just from the parts I understood…"
He smiled lopsidedly down at her, as if trying to make her at ease by admitting his own inexperience. If he only knew. Her fluttering eyes fastened themselves to the gentle slope of his shoulders again.
Damn him for having so good shoulders. And skin that seemed so soft and touchable.
"Hey," he said softly, lifting her face towards his with his knuckles under her chin. "Stop blushing, she is gone now."
And such fine eyes.
This was getting ridiculous. All of it.
Allira made a strong effort to get herself together.
"Eh, well, I'll try," she told him honestly.
He smiled at her again, and after casting a glance around him to check if they were alone, reached out to drag her into his arms.
She swallowed when her body came into contact with his. Tingles moved up and down her arms when she weakly lifted them to wrap loosely around his neck. Indeed, every part of her that touched him tingled and sang.
He was still slightly damp, but it was not unpleasant. He smelled like fresh wood, sweat and rust, manly smells that she associated with him. Trying to be covert about it, she stuck her tongue out infinitesimally and tasted his skin.
Salty, but nice. Giving herself another mental shake, she sighed against him.
"I'm sorry, Alistair, I will try not to get so…wound up," she offered. Too bad the poor man didn't know what she was really telling him.
"Good girl," he mumbled into her hair, his arms holding her pleasantly tight to him.
No, she thought to herself, she was a bad, bad girl.
Now give the old girl some love, or even a review!
