Together Or Not At All

by RogueHunter06

"What in the Maker's name were you supposed to do when you liked a woman?" It's a question Alistair has asked himself far too many times since unexpectedly meeting her in the Wilds. And though he knows he should be focusing on the Blight, he can't seem to help himself around her - from falling deeper into his attraction for her. *OC, Cousland Warden with Morrigan, M for lemons*

30. To Be King

A/N: On time as promised, here is your new chapter! Hope everybody likes it! There is a tiny bit of smut at the end if you want to skip it, but if you do, make sure you read the last paragraph or so :). That part is important to the plot, believe it or not ;).

As always, thanks to everyone who has favorited and followed the story, I'm glad you like it! I would love it if you also shared your thoughts with me too!

Special thanks to This is Not A Fanfiction for your review of the last chapter, and as always to PheonixTears 589 for continually supporting my story and letting me know what you think!

ATTENTION: I will be awarding a one-shot gift fic to my 100th reviewer! A couple of conditions apply: You must have reviewed at least once before, I don't want someone lurking around until it hits 99 and then reviewing just to get the gift fic. It will also likely have to be a DA one-shot, although if you give me a good idea for another fandom I'm familiar with, I may be able to work with it. And you can't just say, "Write me a Zevran fic" or something, you have to give me a little bit of an idea or prompt, like, "Write me a fic where Zevran runs into Isabela again" or something like that. Anything you like, though, as long as you give me an idea to work with.

Disclaimer: As always, don't own DA or any dialogue/characters from the game. I do own Ayla and the rest of the dialogue though!

Chapter 30: To Be King

The next morning, Alistair followed Aedan to the Arl's study. Teagan had informed them that the Arl wanted to see the two of them to discuss the plans for Loghain and the Blight. Apparently Arl Eamon had stated that only he and Aedan needed to be present, and they could relay any decisions made to the rest of the party later.

Ayla had told him she was perfectly fine with that, after Teagan had left his door and she'd come out of hiding. She'd still been in his room when Teagan had knocked on his door this morning looking for him, and had quickly hid while he'd scrambled to find his leggings and open the door. Fortunately, Teagan hadn't seemed to notice anything was amiss, and after relaying the Arl's summons, had moved on to find Aedan. Ayla had sent him on his way after he'd dressed with a kiss, telling him to find her in the practice yard later when he was done.

Right at the moment, as they entered the study, where Arl Eamon and Teagan stood waiting for them, he wished he was down in the practice yard with her. He didn't really know why he needed to be present for this discussion, since he didn't think he'd be of any help with making the plans and decisions. He decided he would just let Aedan do most of the talking, as they closed the door behind them and faced the Arl. He looked a good deal healthier than he had the night before; his face was much more robust, his longer, greying hair neatly combed, and he was dressed in a formal red silk tunic with belled sleeves, along with matching breeches of a darker red.

"Teagan has told me all that transpired while I was unconscious," the Arl began. "Much of what he said was most troubling. There is much to be done, that is true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much. Aedan, Alistair, the two of you have not only saved my life but kept my family safe as well. I am in your debt. Will you permit me to offer you both a reward for your service?" He looked to each of them in turn.

Aedan shook his head in response. "We need your help against the Blight. That will do. I would not ask for anything else."

Alistair nodded in agreement with Aedan. He hadn't done any of this in order to be rewarded, and he felt a little embarrassed at the praise. "It was no more than I owed you for what you have done for me in the past. I wouldn't ask for any reward either."

The Arl nodded to Aedan, and his face softened a fraction as he met Alistair's eyes, nodding to him as well. "I understand, but regardless of your motivations, I feel you are both worthy of a reward. I would like to honor your efforts, nothing more."

"As you wish, then," Aedan replied formally, offering a small bow.

"If you would like to, Arl Eamon, of course," Alistair added hastily.

Arl Eamon smiled at them before stating, "Then allow me to declare the two of you and those traveling with you champions of Redcliffe. You will always be welcome guests within these halls. And for you, Alistair, a shield of the same make as those that have been given to our finest knights." He picked up a shield from behind his desk and presented it to him before turning to his fellow Warden. "Aedan, if you like, you may have a look in our treasury later with Teagan and see if there is a suitable sword there for you, as I understand you do not use shields."

"Thank you, Arl Eamon," Alistair stammered as he took the shield, emblazoned with Redcliffe's symbol, surprised that the Arl would offer him such a thing.

Aedan nodded formally in response to the Arl's offer. "Thank you, your grace. I will gladly take you up on your offer later, if you insist."

Teagan, who had been standing quietly next to the Arl, turned towards him now. "We should speak of Loghain, brother. There is no telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery."

The Arl slowly shook his head, looking as though he still couldn't believe what Loghain had done. Not that Alistair could blame him; after all the stories he'd heard about the hero general from the time he'd been a young boy, he still had a hard time believing what had happened himself. "Loghain instigates a civil war, even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep. Long I have known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power."

Teagan scowled. "I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon. He is mad with ambition, I tell you."

Arl Eamon sighed heavily. "Mad indeed. Mad enough to kill Cailan, to attempt to kill myself and destroy my lands. Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped." He studied Aedan and Alistair for a moment before continuing, "What's more, we can scarce afford to fight this war to its bitter end."

What?! Alistair thought, shocked. Did the Arl mean he wasn't going to do anything about Loghain? He couldn't possibly mean that, could he?

He exchanged a look of disbelief with Aedan, who declared passionately, "We cannot simply let him get away with this. You can unite the nobility against Loghain, can't you?"

"I could unite those opposing Loghain, yes," Arl Eamon replied slowly, shaking his head before continuing, "But not all oppose him. He has some very powerful allies. We have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn."

"No!" Alistair exclaimed. "We can't!" He was sick at the mere mention of surrendering to Loghain. After everything he'd done – after betraying the Wardens, Duncan, Cailan, and leaving them all to die? After repeatedly trying to kill him and Aedan? How could they possibly surrender to the man?!

"We cannot surrender!" Aedan snapped, sounding as furious and disgusted at the notion as Alistair was. "You cannot mean that everything we've done is for nothing?!"

"No, not at all," the Arl replied, holding his hands up in a soothing manner. "Loghain is responsible for heinous crimes and I intend to see him pay. But, our armies must be reserved for the darkspawn, not for each other. I will spread word of Loghain's treachery, both here and against the king. But it will be but a claim made without proof. Those claims will give Loghain's allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain's daughter, the queen."

Alistair felt his heart stop, panic threatening to overwhelm him, feeling struck dumb as Arl Eamon turned to look at him; as he realized with sudden clarity just what the Arl wanted from him. No, he didn't want this! He had never wanted this!

"Are you referring to Alistair, brother?" Teagan asked incredulously, turning to look at Alistair as well. "Are you certain?"

"I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative," the Arl replied, looking back at his brother. "But the unthinkable has occurred."

Aedan looked between Alistair and the Arl, face expressionless, asking slowly, "You intend to put Alistair forward as king?"

Arl Eamon nodded. "Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem opportunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."

"And what about me?" Alistair demanded angrily, now that he'd managed to swallow down the panic and find his voice. He was furious that they were all discussing him as though he wasn't even there, as though his opinion about his own future didn't even matter. "Does anyone care what I want?!"

The Arl froze him with a stern look, one he remembered and had dreaded receiving in his childhood, disapproval etched on his face. "You have a responsibility, Alistair. Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?"

"I – but I –" I don't want it! I don't want to be king, I want to be a Grey Warden! I can't be responsible for the whole of Ferelden, I just can't! The thoughts whirled through his brain, panicking him all over again, but at the same time, the thought of Arl Eamon backing Loghain, of Loghain getting away with everything he'd done, was so abhorrent that he didn't know what else he could possibly do. "No, my lord," he finished at last, quietly, bitterly, knowing that he was trapped by the circumstances of his birth, as he had always been.

Aedan glanced at him, frowning, eyebrows raised, but he didn't say anything as the Arl nodded, as though he had expected Alistair's answer all along. And he probably had, Alistair thought bitterly. What other answer could he give, with that ultimatum?

"I see only one way to proceed," Arl Eamon went on calmly, as though he hadn't just ruined all of Alistair's hopes for a future of his own choosing. "I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all of Ferelden's nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another. Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin." He looked over at Aedan. "What say you to that, my friend? I do not wish to proceed without your blessing."

"Well, the Landsmeet is likely our best option," Aedan answered thoughtfully. "We have little choice in the matter, I think. It is the best way of confronting Loghain."

The Arl nodded, looking satisfied. "Very well, I will send out the word." His face darkened as he continued, "But before we proceed, I believe there is the matter of the mage . . . my son's tutor. He still lives, I understand." He turned to look at Teagan as though to confirm this.

"He does," Teagan answered. "He is in the dungeon, brother."

"Have him brought here, Teagan. I wish to see him," the Arl replied. Teagan nodded in response, and returned shortly with the dark-haired mage in tow.

He looked a little better than the last time he'd seen him, Alistair noted, trying to focus on the mage instead of his own anxiety and unhappiness about what had just been decided. Jowan was clean, his robes had been washed and mended, and it looked as though they'd actually been feeding him. But the mage's face was lined with anxiety and terror as he looked at Arl Eamon, who stared fiercely back at him.

"Jowan," the Arl began grimly, "what you have done is not in question. You tried to assassinate me and set into motion a series of events that nearly destroyed everything I cherish. What have you to say in your own defense?"

"Nothing, my lord . . . other than to say I am sorry," the mage replied quietly, his head hanging low. "I expect no mercy for what I have done."

"I see. Aedan, Alistair, do the two of you have anything to say on Jowan's behalf?" Arl Eamon asked, turning to look at them.

Alistair sighed, looking at the mage, who was still studying the floor. The man was a blood mage, but he had been useful in saving Connor's life, and oddly, he didn't seem all that dangerous. "I don't condone what he did, but he was the one to suggest the plan that ultimately saved Connor," he answered the Arl quietly, who raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Aedan nodded, adding, "He seems earnest in his desire to repent. He did help us, and he was the one that performed the ritual to free Connor."

"Oh? That is . . . unexpected," the Arl replied, frowning, as though he were disappointed with their answers. "And what would you have me do? As the injured party, my ability to see the merciful path is . . . strained."

"Why not give him to the Circle of Magi, my lord?" Alistair offered. It might be the former Templar in him coming out, but that seemed the only logical choice.

"They are the ones who govern mages," Aedan agreed. "It would make sense to leave the decision with them."

Arl Eamon considered it for a moment before nodding. "True enough, and wisely said. Jowan, I hereby turn you over to the tower of the Circle of Magi. May the Maker have mercy on your soul."

"Thank you, my lord," Jowan answered, looking almost relieved at the judgment. Teagan led him back out of the study, presumably to find some guards to take him back to the Circle.

The Arl turned back to Aedan and Alistair, declaring, "Now back to the matter of the Landsmeet. It will take some time to recall my forces and organize our allies. I would prefer to wait until that is done before calling the Landsmeet. In the meantime, I suggest you pursue the remainder of the Grey Warden treaties. We will need all the allies we can get if we are to defeat the darkspawn horde."

"Agreed, my lord," Aedan replied. "We have but one more treaty to pursue, that of the dwarves in Orzammar. Once we have gone there and gained their support, we will return here to report to you, and allow you to call the Landsmeet."

Arl Eamon nodded, and smiled. "Excellent. I have one more reward to offer you and your companions before you leave. We will hold a feast and a dance this night in celebration of the restoration of Redcliffe, and invite all those in the village. You are also, of course, welcome to take a few days' rest before setting off."

"Thank you," Aedan said. "A chance to celebrate and relax would be much appreciated. I think we will stay for one more day after the feast to relax, and set out at dawn the following morning, with your leave."

"Of course," the Arl answered, taking a seat at his desk. "You may spend the rest of your day doing as you wish until the feast. We would be happy to provide you and your companions with appropriate clothing for the feast, as well. I will send some of the maids to fetch you all later for some fittings."

Aedan bowed low. "We are honoured by your generosity. We will take our leave now, to report the news to our companions."

"Yes, of course," the Arl waved his hand, indicating they were dismissed. "I will look forward to meeting the rest of your companions tonight."

Alistair followed Aedan out the door, clutching the shield in his hand, still feeling numb from the decision to make him king. The feast, the dance, and the days they had to rest before they left Redcliffe made things a little better, at least. He would have a few good opportunities for spending time with Ayla, if nothing else. He tried to focus on that, instead of the future that he was now dreading.

As soon as they were a little ways down the hall, Aedan stepped in front of him, piercing him with an intense stare. "I need to talk to you before we see the others. Follow me."

Without waiting for a response, Aedan turned and began to head back in the direction of their rooms. Alistair followed, puzzled as to what exactly his fellow Warden was up to. What could he possibly want to discuss now? Aedan went into his own room and as soon as Alistair had stepped inside, he closed the door.

Alistair stared at him, confused, as Aedan stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, regarding him with raised brows. "I thought you said you didn't want to be king?"

"I don't!" Alistair exclaimed, wondering what Aedan was on about. "But you heard the Arl! If I said no, he'd back Loghain instead. What was I supposed to say?!"

Aedan scowled, his fists clenching. "Yes, don't remind me. That was an extremely manipulative trick he pulled to get the answer that he wanted. But, Alistair, if you become king –"

"What, I'll be terrible at it?" Alistair interrupted, feeling strangely hurt. He knew he would be bad at it, but for some reason, he'd been hoping that Aedan, at least, might have a little faith in him. "You think I don't know that?"

"Actually, that's not what I was going to say," Aedan replied, rolling his eyes. "If you'd shut up and listen to me for a minute – I actually think you'd make a fine king, once you got the hang of it, and with the right people backing you up. But –" he sighed, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "you want to marry Ayla, don't you?"

Alistair blinked. He was surprised and pleased that Aedan actually thought he'd be a good king, but he failed to see why he'd asked that question. What relevance did his feelings for Ayla have to any of this? "Of course I want to marry Ayla, once we defeat the Blight. Why do you ask?"

Aedan ran his hands through his hair before fixing Alistair with a sombre gaze. "Alistair – if you become king . . . they won't let you marry Ayla."

"What?!" Alistair cried, feeling as though he'd been struck a blow to the gut, his heart wrenching in his chest at the same time. The only thing that might have made being a king even remotely tolerable would have been having Ayla at his side. What could Aedan possibly mean?! Why wouldn't he be able to marry Ayla?! "Why – why not? She would make a great queen, she'd be much better at it than me! Why wouldn't they let me?"

Aedan sighed heavily, the look in his grey eyes sympathetic. "I agree with you on that one. The Landsmeet, however, is not going to care about what kind of person she is. The only thing that they are going to care about is whether she is the daughter of a Teyrn, or of an Arl. Since she is not – and they have no idea who she is, or where she's from – they will view her as a commoner, and entirely inappropriate for you to marry. A Grey Warden can marry for love, but a King can't."

When Alistair opened his mouth to object, Aedan continued on, interrupting him, "Not to mention, what if they find out about her abilities? And they will, eventually, no matter how hard we try to keep it a secret. When they do – well, I think Morrigan was right about that. She'll end up being locked up in the Circle, if she's lucky. So even if somehow, you could convince them to overlook the fact that she's a commoner in their eyes, you'll be putting her in danger by having her in the court, where all eyes would be on her, all the time."

Alistair gaped at Aedan wordlessly, his heart sinking and breaking as the truth of his friend's words hit home. Just when he thought he might be able to keep her, for good, he was going to lose her? Even if they made it through the Blight alive, he wouldn't be able to marry her or have her by his side? He was going to lose the best thing in his life, for something he had never wanted? To be somebody he didn't even want to be? How could this have happened?

"What – what am I supposed to do, Aedan?" he asked desperately. "I – I can't lose her. I can't. If I could be with her, I might be able to survive being king. But if it means I can't have her – I –"

"Okay, calm down," Aedan ordered him, pacing back and forth. "We'll think of something. If you don't want to be king, then we'll come up with another plan."

"But what?" Alistair demanded, as he took deep breaths to try to calm himself down. "We can't let Loghain be king, either!"

Aedan shook his head. "No, we can't, and we won't. But . . ." he paused, appearing to be considering something. "If we can get Anora to side against her father, we could leave the throne to her. She did all the ruling the last five years, anyway, and she was good at it. Cailan was just a figurehead, really."

Alistair stared at him in shock, wondering if his fellow Warden had lost his mind. "What in the Maker's name makes you think she'll do that? He's her father!"

"Yes, I know that," Aedan snapped impatiently. "But I knew her, and Cailan. I believe she truly loved him, and I do not believe she was involved in her father's plan to get rid of him. When we get to Denerim, and the Landsmeet, if I can talk to her, I think I can convince her of the monster her father's become. And if she sides against him in the Landsmeet, that would be a huge blow to him and his supporters. If Loghain's out of the picture, I do not think there's any reason we can't leave Anora on the throne."

"Do you really think that would work?" Alistair asked, hope rising in him. If there really was some way they could keep Loghain away from the throne without Alistair himself having to become king, it would be exactly what he wanted – what he needed – to happen.

Aedan nodded, slowly. "I think it would. Right now, anyway, it's your best option. But we have some time; it will be at least two months to get to Orzammar and back, if not longer, not to mention the time it will take to call the Landsmeet and get to Denerim. We have plenty of time to think this through and make our plans."

Alistair sighed in relief. Aedan was right; none of this was going to happen right away, anyway. They had time to think about what was going to be done; nothing was going to be decided right now, and he might still have a chance to get the future he wanted. "Thank you, Aedan," he said sincerely. "If this works, I will owe you more than I can ever repay."

Aedan shook his head dismissively. "Don't worry about it. You're my brother Warden, after all. I want you to be happy, and I want Ayla to be happy. But in the meantime, until we can talk to Anora, you have to let Eamon think that you're still going to be king. And that means doing whatever he asks of you to make him believe that you're still on board with that plan."

"What do you mean?" Alistair demanded, puzzled. "Surely if we explain to him that there's another way, and that this is what I want, he will understand and support us."

Aedan sighed, squeezing Alistair's shoulder as he fixed him with a firm stare. "No, he won't. Even without Loghain, he won't want Anora alone on the throne. He's old-fashioned, and he will be determined to have Theirin blood on the throne if there's any way for that to happen. Trust me on this one, my friend."

Alistair frowned, studying Aedan. "Are you sure? If I explain that I love Ayla and want to be with her, and don't want to be king, he'll understand. He married for love, against the king's wishes, after all."

Aedan released his shoulder and stepped back. "You're right, he did, but Alistair . . ." He shook his head. "He's not a fan of Anora's, and I think he's quite determined that you be king, no matter what. I hope I'm wrong about this, really, I do. Tell you what – tonight, at the feast, introduce Ayla to him and tell him that you want to marry her. Don't say anything about putting someone else on the throne; just . . . see what he says about Ayla being your queen, and if he really cares that it's what you want. Because, well . . . do you ever remember him actually caring what you wanted, or just doing what he thought would be best without caring how it affected you?"

Alistair stared at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond. He remembered how furious he'd been at being sent away, how he'd raged and cried, and how the Arl had not bent in the slightest. And what had happened just now, in the study, how quickly Arl Eamon had overridden his objections, and manipulated the outcome so he could only answer one way. He hoped Aedan was wrong, too, because surely the Arl cared about him, didn't he? He'd raised him as a child, he'd fixed the amulet, but . . .

When he thought back on it, though, Duncan had been the first person ever to ask him what he wanted to do, instead of telling him what he should want to do. Ayla and Aedan had been the only people to ever tell him they cared about him, or that they thought he should do what he wanted, what made him happy. He would trust his friend, and do it his way, for now, he decided. He would tell the Arl about Ayla, and see if he would prove Aedan wrong. If not, then he would have to go behind the Arl's back along with Aedan to get someone else on the throne, because there was nothing else that he could do and still remain sane.

"All right," he said at last, nodding. "I'll follow your plan, Aedan, and see what the Arl says. I hope that he will understand."

"I hope so, too," Aedan replied softly, though he looked relieved that Alistair had agreed with him. "Let's go talk to the others and let them know what's been decided."

"Ayla is in the practice yard, let's see if we can find the others there as well." Alistair headed for the door, feeling a good deal better now that they had some sort of plan. He would talk to the Arl at the feast tonight, and he would find out just what he had to do in order to get the life he wanted for himself.

---

The feast itself was over, and the party had now turned to dancing, as the band of minstrels from the village played various songs. The Arl had invited everyone from the village as well as all the castle workers, and the party was surprisingly merry, considering all that had happened in Redcliffe in recent months. Everybody was likely relieved to have a reason to celebrate and relax.

The introductions to the Arl during the feast had gone well enough; Aedan had introduced each of their companions in turn, explaining where they came from and how they had joined the party. Since they obviously could not explain exactly where Ayla had come from, they had talked it over with Ayla earlier and come up with a cover story should anyone ask. She was now a mercenary from Kirkwall, as Aedan said he knew a fair bit about Kirkwall and could fill her in on anything someone might ask, who had come to Ferelden looking for work and ended up joining them to assist in their fight against the darkspawn.

They had considered calling her a soldier, but had been unable to come up with a satisfactory reason why she would leave her post. Calling her a noblewoman from another country would also not work; the Arl would know all the noble houses and would know that she did not belong to any of them. Getting her to impersonate someone would only make matters worse if it was discovered, so the mercenary story had been the best one they could come up with in order to explain her abilities in battle. Alistair planned on talking to the Arl in private later to explain his intentions towards Ayla; since he hadn't actually talked to her yet about getting married, he didn't want the first time she heard about it to be in front of the Arl.

He had not wanted to ask Ayla to marry him until the Blight was over and their future was a little more certain. And he certainly didn't want to bring it up now when there was a chance it might not happen if he was forced to become king. No, until he knew just who was going to be on the throne, he was not going to bring it up with her; he'd merely discuss it with the Arl later and hope that Aedan had been wrong.

He was waiting for her now at the entrance to the great hall; she'd gone to change into the dress she'd been loaned after the feast, saying that she hadn't wanted to get it dirty while eating, and had wanted it to be a surprise for him. The others were all dancing or chatting with other partygoers in the great hall already. Everyone but Morrigan had taken up the Arl on his offer for clothing and had already changed into it; Morrigan was still wearing her far-too-revealing clothes from the Wilds as she danced with Aedan, who was wearing a red tunic shot with gold and black breeches, looking every inch the nobleman's son dancing with a Witch of the Wilds. It was an odd contrast, and several of the partygoers were staring at them.

"Well, here I am," Ayla's voice came from next to him, as he'd been standing to the side of the door, watching the dancers and the party while he waited. "What do you think?"

He turned around to look at her, and sucked in a breath, his throat going dry. Her hair was loose, spilling over her shoulders and back in flaming waves, with silver ribbons woven in it. The dress she was wearing was designed to be the ruin of men, he thought faintly, especially when she was the one filling it out. It was a dark purple, strapless dress, cut low in the front, with a long, flowing skirt, that was slit up the left side to show flashes of her thigh as she moved. It only had a strap across her upper back to hold the top part of the dress in place – the rest of it left her back completely bare, all the way down to where it met her delectable rear.

"I – you – that dress – you look –" He could feel himself going red in the face as he fumbled for words. He hadn't felt this tongue-tied around her in a long time, but he couldn't find words adequate to describe how devastatingly beautiful she looked right now.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "You haven't been this flustered in a while. Does that mean you like it?"

"You look stunning," he managed at last, clearing his throat. "You're absolutely gorgeous."

Her face softened as she looked up at him. "Thank you. You look quite stunning yourself."

He snorted, glancing down at the dark blue tunic threaded with silver Teagan had loaned him, along with a pair of black breeches similar to Aedan's. "I'm sure."

"You have no idea, do you?" she asked, shaking her head. "How ridiculously handsome you are?"

He couldn't suppress a grin at her words, even as he found them hard to believe. "Ridiculously handsome?" he repeated incredulously. "You don't really think that, do you?"

She grinned as she met his eyes, running her hands up his chest. "Of course I do. Why do you think I find it so hard to keep my hands off of you?"

He quickly grabbed her wrists to stop her movement. He didn't need any extra temptations when she looked like that. "Well – uh, anyway, would you like to dance, my lady?"

"But of course, good ser," she replied mockingly, curtseying before she took the arm he held out for her.

He led her out among the dancers, taking her left hand in his right, and placing his other hand on the small of her back. He suppressed a groan at the feel of her bare skin under his hand, trying not to slide his hand under the edge of the fabric just below it, as she put her other hand on his shoulder, and they began to move to the music. He tried his best to observe what the other couples were doing and imitate it; fortunately it was a slow song so it didn't require a lot of movement.

A thought suddenly occurred to him as they danced. "I've never seen you go anywhere without some kind of weapon on you," he murmured in a low voice. "I'm surprised you agreed to wear a dress like that where you couldn't hide a weapon or two."

She looked up at him, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "What makes you think I'm not hiding any weapons?" She took her hand off his shoulder, pulling forward the front of her dress ever so slightly to allow him to glimpse the small dagger tucked into her cleavage. Then, she pulled up the slit on her skirt just a little bit more, showing a garter belt strapped to her bare thigh with a dagger tucked in it.

"Oh, Maker," he groaned, as she let the skirt drop and all his blood flowed straight south. There was something unbelievably arousing about that garter belt, and now it was all he could think about. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She chuckled softly as she suddenly moved closer, her skirts brushing against his legs as she whispered into his ear, "No, if I was trying to kill you, I'd tell you I'm not wearing any smallclothes underneath this dress."

He nearly tripped over his own feet as he stared down at her, eyes wide. "You – are you serious?" he hissed.

She nodded slowly, her green eyes flaring with heat as she looked up at him. And suddenly, he couldn't take it any longer. He looked around quickly to make sure nobody was watching them, before he dragged her out of the great hall. He pulled her through a few of the stone hallways before he found one that was deserted; he stopped and pushed her up against a wall, bracing one hand on the wall by her head while he slid the other one inside the opening of her skirt.

He kissed her hard, demanding a response that she willingly gave as he slid his hand higher up her leg, past the garter. Her hands ran all over his chest and slid down his abdomen. Just as he reached the juncture of her thighs, groaning in her mouth when he found that she was indeed bare to his touch, she gripped him through the fabric of his breeches, stroking hard.

He gasped, pulling back from her mouth as his whole body jerked; with his other hand, he grabbed one of her wrists, than the other, pulling them over her head and pinning them to the wall. "You're not going to let me touch you?" she asked softly, smiling and tugging experimentally against his hold. He didn't let go, watching her eyes darken as he kept her hands trapped. She'd admitted to liking it when he was rough with her, and he was finding he was only too happy to oblige.

He shook his head. "It's my turn to drive you crazy," he told her, sliding a finger inside her waiting warmth, swallowing her cry inside his mouth as he kissed her again. This time, he kissed her slowly, savouring the feel of her lips beneath his as he slid another finger inside her, moving them in and out in a torturously slow rhythm.

As her breathing became more ragged, he slid his mouth down to her neck, nibbling and sucking his way along, never letting go of her hands no matter how hard she pulled against him. "Oh, Alistair," she moaned, writhing as he began to pick up speed with his fingers.

She was close to her release, he knew, and he was going to bury himself inside her as soon as it happened. He wanted her so badly at this moment that he didn't care where they were or if someone found them, at least, that's what he thought, until a shocked voice echoed down the hallway. "Alistair?!"

He jerked his head up from her neck, letting go of her hands and getting his other hand out from underneath her skirt as he quickly stepped between her and the source of the voice, trying to block her from view as he turned towards it. His heated senses cooled rapidly as he saw Arl Eamon standing only a few feet down the hallway, staring at him with a look of shocked surprise rapidly morphing into stern disapproval.

"Arl Eamon – I –" he didn't know what to say. He hadn't even stopped to consider that someone might come looking for them. And while part of him felt ashamed of his actions and wanted to apologize to the Arl, the other part of him was just frustrated with the interruption.

"I need to speak to you, Alistair," the Arl replied sternly. He cast a scornful glance over Alistair's shoulder at Ayla, who had not moved away from the wall. "Alone. Now."