[The pink on his cheeks somehow managed to travel back to his ears, burning hot as Robyn takes his hand. He squeezes it back, shaking his head ever so slightly as if in disbelief. Did he really have to have feelings like this, the night before what may be the most important battle of his life? The one that might end it? And worse, may end Robyn's, leaving Alistair alone... making the loss of a loved one during battle an unfortunate trend in his life. ]
I know-- I... care about you too. And I am thankful. You won't get rid of me so easily... although I suppose you could soak me in lye with the rest of your linens.
[ That makes her laugh, and she gives his hand a last, affirming squeeze before withdrawing, scratching again at Calen's head. ]
You're - mm. Extraordinary. [ She says, eyes bright, looking...almost disbelieving. Then, something seems to occur to her, and the Warden gets to her feet. ]
Hang on - I've got an idea. I'll be right back. [ She holds out a hand to the mabari to indicate that he should stay behind before disappearing back down the tower's steps.
Within five to ten minutes, Robyn appears again, hands full: one holds a tankard (some of its contents sloshing somewhat as she approaches) and the other clutches a wine skin. ]
From some of our friends. [ She explains, now grinning. ] Oghren provided the ale, of course, saying nothing of what it is, but warned me that it's "a powerful one." He's also filled it...too much. [ It. Does not smell great, either. ] And the wine is a gift from Zevran, who said he'd be happy to "graciously" share with us the best red he's found in Denerim, though he also mentioned that wasn't saying much, "considering the state of Ferelden wine." [ She finishes in her best impression of his accent, laughing a little again. ]
Would you like some of either? [ The Warden offers finally, shrugging. ]
Well that's a first. [As she stands to leave, Alistair pats the Mabari on the back, giving him a caring look.] Right. We'll be right here, swapping war stories... or whatever manly thing is expected of us the night before a battle.
[Of course, Robyn will return to him still talking to the dog, but mostly telling him he's a very good boy and very clever. As she comes closer, he sits up, grinning at her bounty.]
Ah! Well. I suppose I should be the voice of reason, here, but when have I ever been known to do that? Hand one over. [He reaches for the ale, and once it's close enough for him to smell he regrets his choice immediately.]
I hope you've been a good influence on him while I've been away. [ She chuckles, scritching Calen's head again after Alistair accepts the ale. ] Because some of the others have also been talking to him, and I'm worried what sort of influence it will have on his impressionable mind.
[ The dog pants a bit, then rolls over on his side. ]
I think it's reasonable to have a tiny bit of indulgence the night before...something like this, don't you? [ Robyn takes a sip, then, pleased that Zevran had in fact given them a decent wine (or so she assumes, not exactly being a connoisseur of the stuff. ] Mm. You know, I think you've left me with the better stuff, here.
[ Perhaps not as potent as whatever sludge Oghren provided, but it's at least palatable. ]
Of course I have! [Hesitating for a moment, he takes a taste of the ale in front of him, and nearly gags, wincing as he tries to hold it down. It really is awful.]
Yes, of course. Ah-- you know... I've only had Dwarven ale once, and I was certain it was given to me as a joke. Are we sure this isn't an Oghren prank?
[Coughing, he clears his throat and attempts another sip, swallowing it down quickly so that he won't have to taste it, but it burns all the same.]
No, I'm not sure of that at all. But if he is pranking us, then we will find time for appropriate revenge.
[ Meanwhile, the wine is fruity and sweet and it brings blooms of pink to her cheeks before long. ]
You don't have to drink it, you know. [ She points out, giggling at the face he makes when he imbibes. ] I'd happily share the wine with you, if you'd prefer. ...To be honest, now I'm curious about just how "dangerous" that sludge he gave us actually is.
[He replies with a brief coughing laugh, holding the mug to
her.] Oh, try it, please. I don't want to be the only
one with an acid-burned hole in my stomach while I'm trying to sleep
tonight.
[A real laugh this time. Two gulps of it and it's already got him
feeling a bit lightheaded. How Oghren's kind drinks this stuff by the
gallon is beyond him. Stomachs of steel, he assumes.]
Excellent. Let's just let Oghren trick us into a slow and painful death up here rather than face the archdemon tomorrow.
[ With a grim expression she exchanges the mug for the wineskin, bracing herself before taking a gulp...and almost immediately gagging. ]
Maker, how can anyone...drink this? [ Robyn laughs now, full and delighted, though she's wincing. ] It's almost definitely just poison; I'm sure of it.
[Alistair is chuckling before she even takes a drink- he knows it's
coming. Had Robyn drank it without gagging, he might have been too
shocked to respond. As she rejects it, he grins and takes a taste of the
wine. It's quite good, comparatively.]
You're stuck with it now! [He exclaims, joking of course.]
You can't expect me to take that back after tasting this?
I will fight you for it. [ She insists with deadly seriousness (and, with what they both now know of the stuff's potency, she may actually try). ] You're over there with...comparatively, the drink of royalty, and I've got muddy cave water from the depths of the Deep Roads. If anything, we're splitting them both.
[ If they die of some kind of poisoning, then they'll have to do it together. ]
[Either Robyn has selected the most subtle nod to his own lineage or
she missed the opportunity for the perfect joke. Alistair would have been
furious if he was clever enough to catch it. Instead, he's laughing
still, holding the wine out of her reach, but not after taking a
mockingly large gulp of it.]
Oh, but I am scared. If anyone can pin me down, I'm certain it's you.
[ Maybe a little of Column A, a little of Column B? ]
Don't make me prove that I can. [ She laughs again, mischievous expression blooming on her face. Pup, sensing the playful nature of their conversations, wags his tail. ] Give it here!
[ She will not waste any time in trying to reach across him to snatch the wine skin away while also (sort of) trying her best not to get it spilled all over the pair of them. ]
[Alistair is thankful his arms are longer than hers, holding it just out of reach. Her laughter is contagious and he only laughs harder as she attempts to climb over him, but it is not lost on him that they are so very close now, and it's been so very long since he's been drunk... so it really hasn't taken much for the alcohol to start working. He feels... good. Ironic, considering the state of things, but it was a good choice to spend what may be their last evening alive trying to enjoy themselves and in good company.]
[ He's taller and with longer limbs than her by a good amount, and so she gets...nowhere, really, in trying to snatch it away. The task at hand is something she's determinedly focused on, and so the fact that she's half-clambering over him to reach for it is not on her mind (yet). ]
You'll regret this. [ First attempt: is he ticklish? Gonna try! Deft, roguish fingers dart out from the hand not extended to the wine skin to try and tickle him into submission. If that doesn't work, then her pleasant, buzzing brain is already generating other ideas... ]
[If anyone said they weren't ticklish, they were liars, and Alistair
is an exceptional liar when he attempts to bat her off of him. His face is
beet-red and though he yells 'Not Ticklish!' his entire body betrays
him, twisting and turning while the wind is knocked out of him from trying
not to laugh. It's enough of a give to bring the wine skin just
within her reach should she be nimble enough to grab it before he's slid
down the wall and onto his back on the cold ground with a gasp, pulling her
down with him and nearly knocking over the ale that had been set
beside them.]
[ Ah ha! She's laughing as he is visibly trying to resist, and...the situation is ridiculous, clearly, but such a welcome relief to the earlier gloom. Robyn extends her fingers more, more, and...just manages to snatch it out of his hand, though it's nearly at the expense of the disgusting ale, which is at their side. She manages to right that bottle before it goes over, ending up breathless and in possession of the wine, stretched diagonally across Alistair, who has shrunken down prone. ]
Ha. [ The Warden gasps triumphantly, holding it high above the both of them, peering down into his face with a gleeful expression. ] I told you so.
[ ...Oh. It's at this point that she remembers herself, becoming quite aware that she is lying across his torso, hair spilling over her shoulders, face...close.
She swallows, blush creeping across her cheeks. ]
...And no casualties, I see. [ Robyn adds lightly, gesturing somewhat to the ale, though not looking at it. ]
[Alistair is still trying to catch his breath, the red on his cheeks very apparent as he stares back at her, lips cracking into a smile.]
Oh, what a shame that'd have been.
[His eyes follow her hair over her shoulders and onto his chest, and he can feel a pounding in his chest from how close they are now. His arm had been stretched above him but now moves back down, pushing her hair out of her face carefully, his eyes catching hers and seemingly making him blush even darker.]
[ Had Oghren and Zevran known what they were doing, when they'd offered ale and wine to the two Wardens? Oghren - not likely, but it's possible Zevran had seen an opportunity that would not be pursued under...normal circumstances.
She's thinking about that, a little, but it's hard to not be mostly focused on Alistair, beneath her. Robyn swallows. ]
I - [ His fingers brush by her face and she feels like she's been struck by something, stunned into a silence that stretches out, on and on. Time seems to have slowed to a crawl, and her hazy mind produces another thought: before, she'd tried to chase down and impose a kiss upon one of their household guards that she'd had a crush on, but he'd insisted (perhaps rightfully) that Lady Cousland would throw him from the highest tower.
She's come very, very far from that time. ]
I... [ Tomorrow, one or both of them could be dead. She remembers her own unpleasant rush of strange emotions when Morrigan had made her request.
Her heart lodges in her throat, blocking her muddled thoughts from escaping. Slowly - can I? - she lowers her face to press her lips to his.
[Alistair himself is dumbstruck. It's not often that he's speechless (and normally he'd have plenty of one-liners to say), but considering the circumstances, he finds himself lost in the way she looks at him. He starts to reply, but it's merely a noise before he notices her learning in and sucks in a sharp inhale of breath to gather his nerve.
His head tilts up, meeting her lips halfway with his own, his eyes fluttering shut. At first he's tense, his nervousness showing through, but after just a moment he relaxes into it, his lips going soft while the hand that swept her hair back cradles her cheek.]
[ The moment seems to swim, floating along in a blissful haze. It's a helpful combination of the drink and the kiss, and Robyn is nearly surprised that her body hasn't started to drift into the air above him. As it is, the Warden meets his lips as he offers them and smiles against them, tilting her head slightly and savoring the moment, drinking him in in long, slow movements.
Maybe - maybe! - she's had this dream before. The real thing is still so surprising, though. He's warm, and solid, and Alistair, and she wonders if he can sense her heart in her throat as she kisses him.
It could have been just a minute, or maybe an hour, but her mind snaps sharply back into itself all at once, and she withdraws just a bit to catch her breath, cheeks flushed and rosy, eyes wide. ]
Alistair... [ It's soft, nearly a whine, and the need behind it surprises even her. Robyn shifts her weight, swallowing hard, but is unable to shake the feeling that's taken hold. If this isn't what he wants, she knows she'll abide. But...otherwise, she can nearly see her own desire to explore this moment in its entirety coming at her, massive and overwhelming, like a wave approaching to crash over her head. ]
[Meanwhile Alistair's own pulse feels so loud in his own ears the thinks he might have really been poisoned by Oghren's ale. He doesn't back down once their lips have met, slotting himself against her gently so that they don't bump heads. Alistair may have never been with a woman so intimately, but he at least knows where his limbs go while otherwise letting himself get lost in the kiss.
He gasps softly as she pulls back, worried he's overstepped his boundaries. His own cheeks are flush, only aided by how much he's had to drink, and he bites at his own lower lip for a moment before wincing, as if bracing himself for a slap. What he wasn't prepared for was the need in her voice, which he doesn't quite understand as such under the present conditions.]
I'm sorry-- I- [He clears his throat, looking at her hopefully.] Was that... okay?
Yes! [ Too quick! ] Er - yes, no, it...absolutely was. [ Quickly, she replaces an errant braid behind her ear, looking down at him, chest rising and falling as she works to catch her breath. ] I was just-... Oh, to the void with it.
[ He seems fine, and she's...definitely fine, and so she moves in for another kiss, trying not to come off as quite as hungry as she feels for more of this new physicality. A heat has more than begun to overtake her body, though, warming her skin from the inside out as she straddles him. It's in the graze of her cheek and the grasp of her fingers, and certainly between her legs as she continues to straddle him.
She hadn't really imagined what her last night alive might look like, but this is far from the worst things she could imagine... ]
[Ah, but the slap doesn't come, does it? His eyes peek open as she fumbles with her words, just in time for her lips to be on his again, shocking him a second time.]
Just finding a way to shut me--Mm! [It's not a sound of him protesting, just surprise that she's kissed him again (and maybe, just a little bit, wondering if his assessment was right and she was trying to keep him from speaking). Alistair relaxes quicker this time, relieved by it, his hands reaching for her sides as she straddles him to hold her close. Whatever heat it is she's feeling, he feels it too. He'd thought it maybe the drink, but it's too deep in his belly to be anything but desire for whatever this is to keep happening.]
[ She nearly laughs against his lips at the comment. True, she'd cut him off in a very literal sense, and she usually is happy to chat with her fellow Warden and to hear what he might have to say. At the moment, though, in a way perhaps uncharacteristic of them both, she's not feeling quite so talkative.
It doesn't take long in this position before she has to withdraw again, though this time with a more concrete reason: ]
Er...the battlements are a bit... [ Uncomfortable? She's not even pressed against the stone, but he must be getting a little sore, right? And their outside, besides. Surely, they can do better.
As if sensing his master's intent, Calen starts pacing, tongue lolling from his mouth. ]
Could we continue this...inside? [ Their, ah. Discussion? ]
[Alistair gasps for air as their lips part, clearly too dazed by all of this to be bothered by whatever stone he's resting against. He's also slept on the ground for so long now that this hardly is the most uncomfortable he's been.
He nods, his words catching up with the rest of him eventually.]
Yes. [He's not partial to where as long as they can continue. His hands do ease off of her to allow her to get up, however.]
Mn, are there any rooms that ah... don't come with a peanut gallery?
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I know-- I... care about you too. And I am thankful. You won't get rid of me so easily... although I suppose you could soak me in lye with the rest of your linens.
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You're - mm. Extraordinary. [ She says, eyes bright, looking...almost disbelieving. Then, something seems to occur to her, and the Warden gets to her feet. ]
Hang on - I've got an idea. I'll be right back. [ She holds out a hand to the mabari to indicate that he should stay behind before disappearing back down the tower's steps.
Within five to ten minutes, Robyn appears again, hands full: one holds a tankard (some of its contents sloshing somewhat as she approaches) and the other clutches a wine skin. ]
From some of our friends. [ She explains, now grinning. ] Oghren provided the ale, of course, saying nothing of what it is, but warned me that it's "a powerful one." He's also filled it...too much. [ It. Does not smell great, either. ] And the wine is a gift from Zevran, who said he'd be happy to "graciously" share with us the best red he's found in Denerim, though he also mentioned that wasn't saying much, "considering the state of Ferelden wine." [ She finishes in her best impression of his accent, laughing a little again. ]
Would you like some of either? [ The Warden offers finally, shrugging. ]
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Well that's a first. [As she stands to leave, Alistair pats the Mabari on the back, giving him a caring look.] Right. We'll be right here, swapping war stories... or whatever manly thing is expected of us the night before a battle.
[Of course, Robyn will return to him still talking to the dog, but mostly telling him he's a very good boy and very clever. As she comes closer, he sits up, grinning at her bounty.]
Ah! Well. I suppose I should be the voice of reason, here, but when have I ever been known to do that? Hand one over.
[He reaches for the ale, and once it's close enough for him to smell he regrets his choice immediately.]
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[ The dog pants a bit, then rolls over on his side. ]
I think it's reasonable to have a tiny bit of indulgence the night before...something like this, don't you? [ Robyn takes a sip, then, pleased that Zevran had in fact given them a decent wine (or so she assumes, not exactly being a connoisseur of the stuff. ] Mm. You know, I think you've left me with the better stuff, here.
[ Perhaps not as potent as whatever sludge Oghren provided, but it's at least palatable. ]
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Yes, of course. Ah-- you know... I've only had Dwarven ale once, and I was certain it was given to me as a joke. Are we sure this isn't an Oghren prank?
[Coughing, he clears his throat and attempts another sip, swallowing it down quickly so that he won't have to taste it, but it burns all the same.]
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[ Meanwhile, the wine is fruity and sweet and it brings blooms of pink to her cheeks before long. ]
You don't have to drink it, you know. [ She points out, giggling at the face he makes when he imbibes. ] I'd happily share the wine with you, if you'd prefer. ...To be honest, now I'm curious about just how "dangerous" that sludge he gave us actually is.
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[He replies with a brief coughing laugh, holding the mug to her.] Oh, try it, please. I don't want to be the only one with an acid-burned hole in my stomach while I'm trying to sleep tonight.
[A real laugh this time. Two gulps of it and it's already got him feeling a bit lightheaded. How Oghren's kind drinks this stuff by the gallon is beyond him. Stomachs of steel, he assumes.]
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[ With a grim expression she exchanges the mug for the wineskin, bracing herself before taking a gulp...and almost immediately gagging. ]
Maker, how can anyone...drink this? [ Robyn laughs now, full and delighted, though she's wincing. ] It's almost definitely just poison; I'm sure of it.
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[Alistair is chuckling before she even takes a drink- he knows it's coming. Had Robyn drank it without gagging, he might have been too shocked to respond. As she rejects it, he grins and takes a taste of the wine. It's quite good, comparatively.]
You're stuck with it now! [He exclaims, joking of course.] You can't expect me to take that back after tasting this?
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[ If they die of some kind of poisoning, then they'll have to do it together. ]
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[Either Robyn has selected the most subtle nod to his own lineage or she missed the opportunity for the perfect joke. Alistair would have been furious if he was clever enough to catch it. Instead, he's laughing still, holding the wine out of her reach, but not after taking a mockingly large gulp of it.]
Oh, but I am scared. If anyone can pin me down, I'm certain it's you.
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Don't make me prove that I can. [ She laughs again, mischievous expression blooming on her face. Pup, sensing the playful nature of their conversations, wags his tail. ] Give it here!
[ She will not waste any time in trying to reach across him to snatch the wine skin away while also (sort of) trying her best not to get it spilled all over the pair of them. ]
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Make me.
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You'll regret this. [ First attempt: is he ticklish? Gonna try! Deft, roguish fingers dart out from the hand not extended to the wine skin to try and tickle him into submission. If that doesn't work, then her pleasant, buzzing brain is already generating other ideas... ]
Surrender and you will be shown mercy!
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[If anyone said they weren't ticklish, they were liars, and Alistair is an exceptional liar when he attempts to bat her off of him. His face is beet-red and though he yells 'Not Ticklish!' his entire body betrays him, twisting and turning while the wind is knocked out of him from trying not to laugh. It's enough of a give to bring the wine skin just within her reach should she be nimble enough to grab it before he's slid down the wall and onto his back on the cold ground with a gasp, pulling her down with him and nearly knocking over the ale that had been set beside them.]
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Ha. [ The Warden gasps triumphantly, holding it high above the both of them, peering down into his face with a gleeful expression. ] I told you so.
[ ...Oh. It's at this point that she remembers herself, becoming quite aware that she is lying across his torso, hair spilling over her shoulders, face...close.
She swallows, blush creeping across her cheeks. ]
...And no casualties, I see. [ Robyn adds lightly, gesturing somewhat to the ale, though not looking at it. ]
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Oh, what a shame that'd have been.
[His eyes follow her hair over her shoulders and onto his chest, and he can feel a pounding in his chest from how close they are now. His arm had been stretched above him but now moves back down, pushing her hair out of her face carefully, his eyes catching hers and seemingly making him blush even darker.]
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She's thinking about that, a little, but it's hard to not be mostly focused on Alistair, beneath her. Robyn swallows. ]
I - [ His fingers brush by her face and she feels like she's been struck by something, stunned into a silence that stretches out, on and on. Time seems to have slowed to a crawl, and her hazy mind produces another thought: before, she'd tried to chase down and impose a kiss upon one of their household guards that she'd had a crush on, but he'd insisted (perhaps rightfully) that Lady Cousland would throw him from the highest tower.
She's come very, very far from that time. ]
I... [ Tomorrow, one or both of them could be dead. She remembers her own unpleasant rush of strange emotions when Morrigan had made her request.
Her heart lodges in her throat, blocking her muddled thoughts from escaping. Slowly - can I? - she lowers her face to press her lips to his.
Off to the side, Calen whines softly. ]
A triumphant return.
His head tilts up, meeting her lips halfway with his own, his eyes fluttering shut. At first he's tense, his nervousness showing through, but after just a moment he relaxes into it, his lips going soft while the hand that swept her hair back cradles her cheek.]
/o
Maybe - maybe! - she's had this dream before. The real thing is still so surprising, though. He's warm, and solid, and Alistair, and she wonders if he can sense her heart in her throat as she kisses him.
It could have been just a minute, or maybe an hour, but her mind snaps sharply back into itself all at once, and she withdraws just a bit to catch her breath, cheeks flushed and rosy, eyes wide. ]
Alistair... [ It's soft, nearly a whine, and the need behind it surprises even her. Robyn shifts her weight, swallowing hard, but is unable to shake the feeling that's taken hold. If this isn't what he wants, she knows she'll abide. But...otherwise, she can nearly see her own desire to explore this moment in its entirety coming at her, massive and overwhelming, like a wave approaching to crash over her head. ]
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He gasps softly as she pulls back, worried he's overstepped his boundaries. His own cheeks are flush, only aided by how much he's had to drink, and he bites at his own lower lip for a moment before wincing, as if bracing himself for a slap. What he wasn't prepared for was the need in her voice, which he doesn't quite understand as such under the present conditions.]
I'm sorry-- I- [He clears his throat, looking at her hopefully.] Was that... okay?
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[ He seems fine, and she's...definitely fine, and so she moves in for another kiss, trying not to come off as quite as hungry as she feels for more of this new physicality. A heat has more than begun to overtake her body, though, warming her skin from the inside out as she straddles him. It's in the graze of her cheek and the grasp of her fingers, and certainly between her legs as she continues to straddle him.
She hadn't really imagined what her last night alive might look like, but this is far from the worst things she could imagine... ]
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Just finding a way to shut me--Mm! [It's not a sound of him protesting, just surprise that she's kissed him again (and maybe, just a little bit, wondering if his assessment was right and she was trying to keep him from speaking). Alistair relaxes quicker this time, relieved by it, his hands reaching for her sides as she straddles him to hold her close. Whatever heat it is she's feeling, he feels it too. He'd thought it maybe the drink, but it's too deep in his belly to be anything but desire for whatever this is to keep happening.]
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It doesn't take long in this position before she has to withdraw again, though this time with a more concrete reason: ]
Er...the battlements are a bit... [ Uncomfortable? She's not even pressed against the stone, but he must be getting a little sore, right? And their outside, besides. Surely, they can do better.
As if sensing his master's intent, Calen starts pacing, tongue lolling from his mouth. ]
Could we continue this...inside? [ Their, ah. Discussion? ]
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He nods, his words catching up with the rest of him eventually.]
Yes. [He's not partial to where as long as they can continue. His hands do ease off of her to allow her to get up, however.]
Mn, are there any rooms that ah... don't come with a peanut gallery?
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