p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"The meeting in the War Room continued as the details of the exploration of the Arbor Wilds were deliberated. Once her presence was no longer needed, Caoilainn tiptoed from the room and returned to check on the training of the Grey Wardens./p
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"br /She laid low for the day, and by nightfall, she had retired early to the small room that had been allotted to her in Skyhold. Shed from her armor- the Warden tabard which was a symbol for her, her commitments as Warden Commander and her strength, both physical and mental- she was undressed, wearing only her champagne colored robe, tied loosely to her body. The robe expertly displayed her femininity and nobility. Made of silk, with lace accents and intricate, embroidered flowering vines sewn in, it was probably the most regal thing she wore. It was no surprise that she wore it only in the privacy of her /br /Bed still unmade from the night before, Caoilainn sat, brushing out the long, blonde locks of hair which were usually secured in a loose braid. Breathing, decompressing, processing. The events of the day had been a whirlwind and not only did she need to calm herself, she also needed to strategize her comeback. Alistair's arrival had astonished her and in the worst way possible; she wasn't ready to see him. The guilt she felt for the affair, her inability to give him a child, her choosing of the Wardens over him, time and time again, all weighed on her mind. In every instance, she made a choice and Alistair always came second. Caoilainn's misdeeds were her burden and she knew she brought it on /br /Lost in thought, she did not hear the door click softly when it opened./p
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p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"Alistair knew this was the room. He had been directed here by one of the members of the council, or something. Names were unimportant when compared to his task at hand. In this moment, his priority was to find his wife. Fear lingered that she could have very well run away again, once she left his /br /Alistair opened the door quietly. There she was. Brushing her long hair slowly, day dreaming, worrying about something. emProbably me/em, he /br /He noticed the robe. He had given it to her the night of their coronation, when they became King and Queen. And now, like always, it was draping off the contours of her body perfectly. Clinging to her nearly bare shoulders, her breasts were accentuated, the fabric lightly kissing her skin. The persuasive curve of her hips was /br /And her ass. It sat firmly on the bed, pushing against it with force, practically demanding the mattress to submit. Oh, her ass had a way about it. He was /br /They had been apart for far too long. Alistair knew she had been stressed because of the baby, or lack thereof. That stress had created a rift between them. Or rather, it had created a rift for her between them. Alistair was not concerned about a child the way she was: obsessive, stubborn, /br /Alistair's eyes lingered as he admired the crushing and relentless beauty of the woman before him; the woman with whom he defeated the Archdemon; the woman he /br /"Maker's breath but you're beautiful," he murmured from the /br /A few drops of Caoilainn's ice cold demeanor melted away when she heard him. She turned to see him standing, fully armored with a pleased look on his /br /He continued talking as she stared. "I guess they assume a king and queen would share a bed. Silly, isn't it?" His nose wrinkled /br /"Alistair…" her voice dragged with disappointment and /br /He couldn't help but smile. "You're still cute when you get all irritable, you know that? You still get that little knot right between…" He motioned to his forehead as he explained before he waved it down. "Oh, never mind. We have other things to discuss tonight."br /br /Like someone approaching a rabid animal, Alistair took a few, slow steps forward and as he did, Caoilainn rose. The silk robe fell further down her shoulders; her voice was low and lustful. "Shut up, Alistair…"br /br /With her breasts almost completely exposed, her robe held on only by the grace of the Maker, Caoilainn glared at Alistair intensely. She was a commander walking into battle with the intention of intimidating her enemy into /br /But Alistair knew this move, only because he had been weak to it more times than he could count on his fingers and toes. And her fingers and toes, for that matter. Many times over. Though he would be unopposed to her seduction, she was attempting to evade a serious /br /Still in his armor, save for his helm, the King smiled down at his nearly naked queen. "Eager, are we?" He shook his head. "Not yet, my love. We need to talk first."br /br /Caoilainn's eyes squinted aggressively, displeased with Alistair's newfound willpower. She crossed her arms; her intimidating glare more hostile than before. "Fine," she said spitefully. "What is there to talk about?"br /br /"Well… hmm… let's start with how you tried to take 500 of my soldiers without telling me, yeah?" His sarcasm was obvious but he did not sound angry. "Then maybe we could follow that with how you've been avoiding me for nearly the last five years," he added. "And why is Morrigan here? Oh… and finally, I know about Nathaniel."br /br /Alistair's list of Caoilainn's grievances- all of her secrets, at least that he knew of- had been laid out in front of her. It caused her eyes to widen in guilt. With a determined silence, she swallowed hard. Defiant. Alistair sat expectantly; a contented grin showing his determined patience for her /br /Eventually, she replied. "I needed to help the Inquisition. I needed a reason to be here."br /br /Alistair's smile softened. "See… that wasn't so hard!" He added jovially. "Go on, I'm all ears."br /br /Caoilainn rolled her eyes at him. "You know why I've been avoiding you. I want a child. Your child. But I need to find a cure for the Calling… and the Blight sickness. It's why I'm here." Bluntly, her words came with an exasperated tone. "I don't know why Morrigan is here. She was working with some emOrlesians/em and then she joined the Inquisition." Caoilainn said the word Orlesian with derogation, as if the word itself were an insult. "I think she can help us find a cure, Alistair."br /br /Alistair's eyebrows lifted with surprise at this last statement. It was a grateful surprise and for the most selfish reasons. Maybe if she could finally find a cure, he could have his partner back. But, Alistair knew if it involved Morrigan it meant the cure would definitely require magic. If it was that powerful, it was even more likely to use blood magic. In the back of his mind, he worried about the status of the child born from the ritual ten years ago. He replied cynically. "Oh, well, then yeah we should definitely get help from her, because Morrigan's never done anything deceitful with us… ever."br /br /Caoilainn shook her head in annoyance and took a deep breath before responding. "I think the cure is in your son."br /br /A jolt of pain instantly sparked between his eyes, forcing Alistair to close them as the words 'your son' rang through his ears. His son. He didn't know the child had been born, and didn't want to know, let alone that it was a boy. Memories of that night with Morrigan flashed in his mind. If only to escape them, he opened his eyes and laughed weakly. "I suppose that would make sense. Please… just tell me it's not going to require blood magic." Desperation and distrust were evident in his words before retiring to defeat. "Wait. Nevermind. Don't tell me. I don't want to know." The women would do what they wished, regardless of his input. Distantly, he hoped for the boy's safety and a chance to see him, at /br /Caoilainn noticed Alistair's loss of centeredness. His mind had wandered and he was off track. With a seductive grin, she softly stepped forward to him. Her body pushed against his armor. Hot skin sticking to metal, dragging against leather and chainmail. Caoilainn's robe was only held on by her forearms, as it brushed against the /br /"I've missed you," she whispered in his /br /Alistair groaned; he was tempted this time. But he laughed. It was the laugh of a man in a dutiful restraint from something he knew would please him greatly. "Oh ho ho, woman…." He took a breath to cool off. "You are so clever. That is why I love you. But… We are not done."br /br /Caoilainn cursed to herself. emWho is this willful, self-controlled king and what has he done with the weak-kneed man I married?/em She pushed away from him with more force than was necessary but he stayed standing like a /br /"What!?" She snarled. "What do you want me to tell you?"br /br /His lips tightened in consternation, debating if he actually wanted the information he /br /Caoilainn looked at him pleadingly, her large silvery-blue eyes begging him to drop it. The act of having this conversation would require her to abandon what little was left of her dignity after the events of the /br /Alistair took another deep breath. "Why are you still fucking your lieutenant?" His question was full of energy, but any hint of anger was /br /Breathlessly, Caoilainn stopped. emWait, /emshe thought, emstill?/em "What?" She asked, genuinely confused by the wording of his /br /"I've known for years, my love. Nearly ten. But why still? If you want a child, why would you keep an affair with another man? Why would you keep risking your integrity as commander? And for a Howe?"br /br /Caoilainn's head was spinning with bewildered thoughts. The news felt like a violation to her, to her secretes, to her life outside of Denerim. "It's not like that," she answered simply, staring hard at he /br /Alistair's eyebrows raised mockingly. "Oh? It looks pretty simple to me."br /br /There was no anger harbored in his tone, which confused Caoilainn even more but her gaze did not lift to meet /br /Alistair knew his wife was complicated, without a doubt. She spent copious amounts of time in her head, dreading, regretting, planning, and strategizing. The escape with Nathaniel had offended him, but it was not shocking. Yes, at first, when he received word of it from a personal scout in Vigil's Keep almost ten years ago. When she came back to the castle, he saw how she was stricken with grief. He did not know how to help her so he played dumb, blocking the reality of her infidelity out of his mind, merely grateful to have her /br /Then she left again and things had changed; he had changed./p
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"Caoilainn's shutting down was predictable, and while it was frustrating, it did not make him angry with her. He moved closer, understanding her distance and wanting to close the space between them. As he took a few steps, he removed his gauntlets, dropped them on the floor, and rested his hands on her shoulders. Lovingly, he took her chin in his hand and directed her face to look at him./p
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"br /There was that stubborn, powerful, delicate, gorgeous glare looking back at him. Naturally, he leaned over to kiss her. His large, calloused hand traveled from her chin to weave through her mane. Alistair's kiss was forceful, fervent and /br /Attempting to defy his love, Caoilainn made a noise in resistance. It lasted only a moment before she succumbed. Instantly, their love was ablaze after so much time smoldering in resentment for one another. Alistair's lips parted hers and he slid his tongue against Caoilainn's. She pushed back with equal force. The kiss was long and hungry, like they had been starved of this intimacy and needed to devour it quickly before it vanished in front of /br /Eventually, they broke away for air. Practically naked, save for the robe that still clung to her arms, Caoilainn was pressed against Alistair in his royal armor, emblazoned with the heads of mabari, argent on the pauldrons and breastplate. "Take off your armor," she whispered in his ear, her voice sultry and /br /He smiled down at her. emOh, no, no, no,/em he thought to himself. emWe aren't going to play that game. /emThe master of strategy, Caoilainn had historically directed their intimate routine. She made sure all of her needs were met before his, with complete control over the entire situation. It wasn't that he was against her needs being met first, quite the contrary, but Caoilainn's control issues needed to take a break. "Bossy. Normally, hot… but not tonight, my love."br /br /emThis is not the routine, /emCaoilainn thought in confusion. This was not her careful balance of passion and romance, love and order that she always provided them. Having memorized all of his turn-ons and sweet-spots, Caoialinn knew how to give Alistair exactly what he wanted. No. What he needed, and in the most effective way /br /"Turn around," Alistair ordered through a /Her eyebrows furrowed. emWhat?/em She asked herself, completed taken aback by Alistair's order. Impatiently, his hands found her waist and directed her motion, turning her hips so that she was required to move her feet. Delicately, his soft kisses met her shoulders, as if he could not resist the sight of her well-defined back without brushing his lips against /br /Caoilainn shivered. His affection felt different. As his kisses traveled to the back of her neck, he pulled the robe off and tossed it to the bed. Unable to see him, she felt his head move away from her body as he directed her arms so that each hand touched the elbow of the other arm; It was a familiar position for her arms when she was commanding. Suddenly, she felt smooth fabric slide against her skin. Her curiosity was piqued and she attempted to tilt her head to look behind her to see what he was doing. Alistair smirked and gently put his hand on her head and guided her gaze back to the wall ahead of her. "No peeking," he /br /The creamy soft texture of silk wrapping and weaving around her arms was arousing and she could feel herself becoming moist with anticipation of whatever he was doing to her. The ache between her legs tenderly reminded Caoilainn of her own /br /The sound of silk against silk echoed through the room as she realized the impact of the tightening of the cord. "There," he announced. Caoilainn heard the pride in his voice. "Turn back around."br /br /She obeyed. Fully exposed, she stood with her arms bound behind her back. The poignant contrast of the armored King's size to her tied and toned body was undeniable. Caoilainn looked down, as if she was unsure what to do, then back up to Alistair questioningly, puzzled by his actions. It was not as though being restrained for pleasure was new to Caoialinn but from Alistair, it was /br /"Good. Now kneel," he ordered her, the way he would a squire awaiting knighthood. Perplexed, but aroused, she complied as she knelt down to her knees in one fluid motion. From the ground, Caoilainn stared up at Alistair with stubborn interest, her head level with his waist. These actions were out-of-character, and the ache she felt for him was becoming /br /He was measuring how much she would resist his next order and paused before continuing. Alistair had been taken aback by her compliance thus far, although he knew it was mostly likely the result of her /br /"Caoilainn Theirin of House Cousland, who do you serve?"br /br /emWhat kind of asinine question is that? /emShe wondered with irritation. The first and most obvious answer came naturally, without a second guess. "Her Beloved Andraste." Vexed, she glared at him before looking back to the ground. Caoilainn did not know what he was getting at and this was /br /Alistair's hand gently found it's way to her head; his fingers laced back through her flowing hair and tightened with enough force to make her to look at him. Without letting go, securing the position of her head, he asked again. "Who do you serve, Caoilainn?"br /br /"The Maker," she answered quickly, /br /He let go of her hair, looked away and removed the bracers protecting his forearms. Caoilainn waited; her patience tested significantly by his silence and her knees beginning to ache from the cold, hard floor. The pauldrons over his shoulders came off next and dropped to the ground along with the /br /He spoke again. "This is the third time I've had to ask… emdear./em Who do you serve?" His voice echoed with humor and sarcasm and a hint of indignation that stimulated Caoilainn's own /br /emAh. Now I get it. /emShe thought as she realized Alistair's motives. She grinned at him sadistically and hissed. "The Grey Wardens."br /br /"Mmm," he made a sound of malicious pleasure as his eyes narrowed and lips spread to a grin. His hand found its place amidst her ashen-blonde locks /br /"emDarling/em…" He pulled with effort, causing her eyes to water. She smiled at the pain, truly enjoying the agonizing sensation. Forgetting for a moment who and where she was, she basked in the sting. When he finally released, she gasped for air. The wetness between her legs began to slide down her inner /br /"Ferelden," her eyes were gently closed as she cooed. Her voice humming the word before he could complete his question. She masochistically provided another incorrect answer in the hopes that he would pull again, /br /Without hesitation, Alistair obliged and she gulped for air. With his grip held tight, he softly growled. "That was closer, my love." His eyes gazed down adoringly at his enchantingly beautiful queen in submission. She looked up. Her large, silvery-blue eyes wide and wet with the pain that was coursing through her nerves. Alistair continued to pull harder as he spoke. His voice was low, dominant and ruling. "But you know that's not the answer. Who… do… you… serve…?" His yanking throbbed with each word as tears of pain streamed down her /br /She moaned in excruciating ecstasy. "I serve my King."/p
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"br /She laid low for the day, and by nightfall, she had retired early to the small room that had been allotted to her in Skyhold. Shed from her armor- the Warden tabard which was a symbol for her, her commitments as Warden Commander and her strength, both physical and mental- she was undressed, wearing only her champagne colored robe, tied loosely to her body. The robe expertly displayed her femininity and nobility. Made of silk, with lace accents and intricate, embroidered flowering vines sewn in, it was probably the most regal thing she wore. It was no surprise that she wore it only in the privacy of her /br /Bed still unmade from the night before, Caoilainn sat, brushing out the long, blonde locks of hair which were usually secured in a loose braid. Breathing, decompressing, processing. The events of the day had been a whirlwind and not only did she need to calm herself, she also needed to strategize her comeback. Alistair's arrival had astonished her and in the worst way possible; she wasn't ready to see him. The guilt she felt for the affair, her inability to give him a child, her choosing of the Wardens over him, time and time again, all weighed on her mind. In every instance, she made a choice and Alistair always came second. Caoilainn's misdeeds were her burden and she knew she brought it on /br /Lost in thought, she did not hear the door click softly when it opened./p
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p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"Alistair knew this was the room. He had been directed here by one of the members of the council, or something. Names were unimportant when compared to his task at hand. In this moment, his priority was to find his wife. Fear lingered that she could have very well run away again, once she left his /br /Alistair opened the door quietly. There she was. Brushing her long hair slowly, day dreaming, worrying about something. emProbably me/em, he /br /He noticed the robe. He had given it to her the night of their coronation, when they became King and Queen. And now, like always, it was draping off the contours of her body perfectly. Clinging to her nearly bare shoulders, her breasts were accentuated, the fabric lightly kissing her skin. The persuasive curve of her hips was /br /And her ass. It sat firmly on the bed, pushing against it with force, practically demanding the mattress to submit. Oh, her ass had a way about it. He was /br /They had been apart for far too long. Alistair knew she had been stressed because of the baby, or lack thereof. That stress had created a rift between them. Or rather, it had created a rift for her between them. Alistair was not concerned about a child the way she was: obsessive, stubborn, /br /Alistair's eyes lingered as he admired the crushing and relentless beauty of the woman before him; the woman with whom he defeated the Archdemon; the woman he /br /"Maker's breath but you're beautiful," he murmured from the /br /A few drops of Caoilainn's ice cold demeanor melted away when she heard him. She turned to see him standing, fully armored with a pleased look on his /br /He continued talking as she stared. "I guess they assume a king and queen would share a bed. Silly, isn't it?" His nose wrinkled /br /"Alistair…" her voice dragged with disappointment and /br /He couldn't help but smile. "You're still cute when you get all irritable, you know that? You still get that little knot right between…" He motioned to his forehead as he explained before he waved it down. "Oh, never mind. We have other things to discuss tonight."br /br /Like someone approaching a rabid animal, Alistair took a few, slow steps forward and as he did, Caoilainn rose. The silk robe fell further down her shoulders; her voice was low and lustful. "Shut up, Alistair…"br /br /With her breasts almost completely exposed, her robe held on only by the grace of the Maker, Caoilainn glared at Alistair intensely. She was a commander walking into battle with the intention of intimidating her enemy into /br /But Alistair knew this move, only because he had been weak to it more times than he could count on his fingers and toes. And her fingers and toes, for that matter. Many times over. Though he would be unopposed to her seduction, she was attempting to evade a serious /br /Still in his armor, save for his helm, the King smiled down at his nearly naked queen. "Eager, are we?" He shook his head. "Not yet, my love. We need to talk first."br /br /Caoilainn's eyes squinted aggressively, displeased with Alistair's newfound willpower. She crossed her arms; her intimidating glare more hostile than before. "Fine," she said spitefully. "What is there to talk about?"br /br /"Well… hmm… let's start with how you tried to take 500 of my soldiers without telling me, yeah?" His sarcasm was obvious but he did not sound angry. "Then maybe we could follow that with how you've been avoiding me for nearly the last five years," he added. "And why is Morrigan here? Oh… and finally, I know about Nathaniel."br /br /Alistair's list of Caoilainn's grievances- all of her secrets, at least that he knew of- had been laid out in front of her. It caused her eyes to widen in guilt. With a determined silence, she swallowed hard. Defiant. Alistair sat expectantly; a contented grin showing his determined patience for her /br /Eventually, she replied. "I needed to help the Inquisition. I needed a reason to be here."br /br /Alistair's smile softened. "See… that wasn't so hard!" He added jovially. "Go on, I'm all ears."br /br /Caoilainn rolled her eyes at him. "You know why I've been avoiding you. I want a child. Your child. But I need to find a cure for the Calling… and the Blight sickness. It's why I'm here." Bluntly, her words came with an exasperated tone. "I don't know why Morrigan is here. She was working with some emOrlesians/em and then she joined the Inquisition." Caoilainn said the word Orlesian with derogation, as if the word itself were an insult. "I think she can help us find a cure, Alistair."br /br /Alistair's eyebrows lifted with surprise at this last statement. It was a grateful surprise and for the most selfish reasons. Maybe if she could finally find a cure, he could have his partner back. But, Alistair knew if it involved Morrigan it meant the cure would definitely require magic. If it was that powerful, it was even more likely to use blood magic. In the back of his mind, he worried about the status of the child born from the ritual ten years ago. He replied cynically. "Oh, well, then yeah we should definitely get help from her, because Morrigan's never done anything deceitful with us… ever."br /br /Caoilainn shook her head in annoyance and took a deep breath before responding. "I think the cure is in your son."br /br /A jolt of pain instantly sparked between his eyes, forcing Alistair to close them as the words 'your son' rang through his ears. His son. He didn't know the child had been born, and didn't want to know, let alone that it was a boy. Memories of that night with Morrigan flashed in his mind. If only to escape them, he opened his eyes and laughed weakly. "I suppose that would make sense. Please… just tell me it's not going to require blood magic." Desperation and distrust were evident in his words before retiring to defeat. "Wait. Nevermind. Don't tell me. I don't want to know." The women would do what they wished, regardless of his input. Distantly, he hoped for the boy's safety and a chance to see him, at /br /Caoilainn noticed Alistair's loss of centeredness. His mind had wandered and he was off track. With a seductive grin, she softly stepped forward to him. Her body pushed against his armor. Hot skin sticking to metal, dragging against leather and chainmail. Caoilainn's robe was only held on by her forearms, as it brushed against the /br /"I've missed you," she whispered in his /br /Alistair groaned; he was tempted this time. But he laughed. It was the laugh of a man in a dutiful restraint from something he knew would please him greatly. "Oh ho ho, woman…." He took a breath to cool off. "You are so clever. That is why I love you. But… We are not done."br /br /Caoilainn cursed to herself. emWho is this willful, self-controlled king and what has he done with the weak-kneed man I married?/em She pushed away from him with more force than was necessary but he stayed standing like a /br /"What!?" She snarled. "What do you want me to tell you?"br /br /His lips tightened in consternation, debating if he actually wanted the information he /br /Caoilainn looked at him pleadingly, her large silvery-blue eyes begging him to drop it. The act of having this conversation would require her to abandon what little was left of her dignity after the events of the /br /Alistair took another deep breath. "Why are you still fucking your lieutenant?" His question was full of energy, but any hint of anger was /br /Breathlessly, Caoilainn stopped. emWait, /emshe thought, emstill?/em "What?" She asked, genuinely confused by the wording of his /br /"I've known for years, my love. Nearly ten. But why still? If you want a child, why would you keep an affair with another man? Why would you keep risking your integrity as commander? And for a Howe?"br /br /Caoilainn's head was spinning with bewildered thoughts. The news felt like a violation to her, to her secretes, to her life outside of Denerim. "It's not like that," she answered simply, staring hard at he /br /Alistair's eyebrows raised mockingly. "Oh? It looks pretty simple to me."br /br /There was no anger harbored in his tone, which confused Caoilainn even more but her gaze did not lift to meet /br /Alistair knew his wife was complicated, without a doubt. She spent copious amounts of time in her head, dreading, regretting, planning, and strategizing. The escape with Nathaniel had offended him, but it was not shocking. Yes, at first, when he received word of it from a personal scout in Vigil's Keep almost ten years ago. When she came back to the castle, he saw how she was stricken with grief. He did not know how to help her so he played dumb, blocking the reality of her infidelity out of his mind, merely grateful to have her /br /Then she left again and things had changed; he had changed./p
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"Caoilainn's shutting down was predictable, and while it was frustrating, it did not make him angry with her. He moved closer, understanding her distance and wanting to close the space between them. As he took a few steps, he removed his gauntlets, dropped them on the floor, and rested his hands on her shoulders. Lovingly, he took her chin in his hand and directed her face to look at him./p
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"br /There was that stubborn, powerful, delicate, gorgeous glare looking back at him. Naturally, he leaned over to kiss her. His large, calloused hand traveled from her chin to weave through her mane. Alistair's kiss was forceful, fervent and /br /Attempting to defy his love, Caoilainn made a noise in resistance. It lasted only a moment before she succumbed. Instantly, their love was ablaze after so much time smoldering in resentment for one another. Alistair's lips parted hers and he slid his tongue against Caoilainn's. She pushed back with equal force. The kiss was long and hungry, like they had been starved of this intimacy and needed to devour it quickly before it vanished in front of /br /Eventually, they broke away for air. Practically naked, save for the robe that still clung to her arms, Caoilainn was pressed against Alistair in his royal armor, emblazoned with the heads of mabari, argent on the pauldrons and breastplate. "Take off your armor," she whispered in his ear, her voice sultry and /br /He smiled down at her. emOh, no, no, no,/em he thought to himself. emWe aren't going to play that game. /emThe master of strategy, Caoilainn had historically directed their intimate routine. She made sure all of her needs were met before his, with complete control over the entire situation. It wasn't that he was against her needs being met first, quite the contrary, but Caoilainn's control issues needed to take a break. "Bossy. Normally, hot… but not tonight, my love."br /br /emThis is not the routine, /emCaoilainn thought in confusion. This was not her careful balance of passion and romance, love and order that she always provided them. Having memorized all of his turn-ons and sweet-spots, Caoialinn knew how to give Alistair exactly what he wanted. No. What he needed, and in the most effective way /br /"Turn around," Alistair ordered through a /Her eyebrows furrowed. emWhat?/em She asked herself, completed taken aback by Alistair's order. Impatiently, his hands found her waist and directed her motion, turning her hips so that she was required to move her feet. Delicately, his soft kisses met her shoulders, as if he could not resist the sight of her well-defined back without brushing his lips against /br /Caoilainn shivered. His affection felt different. As his kisses traveled to the back of her neck, he pulled the robe off and tossed it to the bed. Unable to see him, she felt his head move away from her body as he directed her arms so that each hand touched the elbow of the other arm; It was a familiar position for her arms when she was commanding. Suddenly, she felt smooth fabric slide against her skin. Her curiosity was piqued and she attempted to tilt her head to look behind her to see what he was doing. Alistair smirked and gently put his hand on her head and guided her gaze back to the wall ahead of her. "No peeking," he /br /The creamy soft texture of silk wrapping and weaving around her arms was arousing and she could feel herself becoming moist with anticipation of whatever he was doing to her. The ache between her legs tenderly reminded Caoilainn of her own /br /The sound of silk against silk echoed through the room as she realized the impact of the tightening of the cord. "There," he announced. Caoilainn heard the pride in his voice. "Turn back around."br /br /She obeyed. Fully exposed, she stood with her arms bound behind her back. The poignant contrast of the armored King's size to her tied and toned body was undeniable. Caoilainn looked down, as if she was unsure what to do, then back up to Alistair questioningly, puzzled by his actions. It was not as though being restrained for pleasure was new to Caoialinn but from Alistair, it was /br /"Good. Now kneel," he ordered her, the way he would a squire awaiting knighthood. Perplexed, but aroused, she complied as she knelt down to her knees in one fluid motion. From the ground, Caoilainn stared up at Alistair with stubborn interest, her head level with his waist. These actions were out-of-character, and the ache she felt for him was becoming /br /He was measuring how much she would resist his next order and paused before continuing. Alistair had been taken aback by her compliance thus far, although he knew it was mostly likely the result of her /br /"Caoilainn Theirin of House Cousland, who do you serve?"br /br /emWhat kind of asinine question is that? /emShe wondered with irritation. The first and most obvious answer came naturally, without a second guess. "Her Beloved Andraste." Vexed, she glared at him before looking back to the ground. Caoilainn did not know what he was getting at and this was /br /Alistair's hand gently found it's way to her head; his fingers laced back through her flowing hair and tightened with enough force to make her to look at him. Without letting go, securing the position of her head, he asked again. "Who do you serve, Caoilainn?"br /br /"The Maker," she answered quickly, /br /He let go of her hair, looked away and removed the bracers protecting his forearms. Caoilainn waited; her patience tested significantly by his silence and her knees beginning to ache from the cold, hard floor. The pauldrons over his shoulders came off next and dropped to the ground along with the /br /He spoke again. "This is the third time I've had to ask… emdear./em Who do you serve?" His voice echoed with humor and sarcasm and a hint of indignation that stimulated Caoilainn's own /br /emAh. Now I get it. /emShe thought as she realized Alistair's motives. She grinned at him sadistically and hissed. "The Grey Wardens."br /br /"Mmm," he made a sound of malicious pleasure as his eyes narrowed and lips spread to a grin. His hand found its place amidst her ashen-blonde locks /br /"emDarling/em…" He pulled with effort, causing her eyes to water. She smiled at the pain, truly enjoying the agonizing sensation. Forgetting for a moment who and where she was, she basked in the sting. When he finally released, she gasped for air. The wetness between her legs began to slide down her inner /br /"Ferelden," her eyes were gently closed as she cooed. Her voice humming the word before he could complete his question. She masochistically provided another incorrect answer in the hopes that he would pull again, /br /Without hesitation, Alistair obliged and she gulped for air. With his grip held tight, he softly growled. "That was closer, my love." His eyes gazed down adoringly at his enchantingly beautiful queen in submission. She looked up. Her large, silvery-blue eyes wide and wet with the pain that was coursing through her nerves. Alistair continued to pull harder as he spoke. His voice was low, dominant and ruling. "But you know that's not the answer. Who… do… you… serve…?" His yanking throbbed with each word as tears of pain streamed down her /br /She moaned in excruciating ecstasy. "I serve my King."/p