[ Oswyn Sighard knew how to entertain, but apparently not how to read a room. The son of the former Bann, who had inherited his father's position after his death, had been gracious enough to host some of the Wardens who had played a key role in the Fifth Blight when he caught wind they would be in the area. More significant to Oswyn had been these particular Wardens' involvement in his rescue prior to the Landsmeet, freeing him from imprisonment and torture, and earning his father's vote when the time came.
Yes, the man's enthused stories and gracious hosting were impressive, and well-earned by his guests, but the guests in question had other things on their minds.
Don't speak for your fellow Warden! Just because you're as impulsive as ever... Robyn Cousland, Hero of the Fifth Blight, glanced sideways at the other figure at the table. It had been a very happy accident that she and Alistair had been in the same relative part of Ferelden, considering how long it had been since they'd last been able to see each other. When the local Bann had somehow caught wind of this news, he'd cheerfully strong-armed the pair into an evening at his home, more than happy to repay some of the people who had saved his life.
It had seemed impolite to refuse him then, but now Robyn quite wishes they'd taken a firmer hand. ]
- Hm? Oh, yes. Very cold this time of year. [ Only semi-confident her answer had been at all related to what Oswyn had asked, she glanced again, covertly, to Alistair. How long had it been since they'd last had any time alone together? Though he, like her, currently wore the heavy armor and sigils of their order, she could see smaller changes in his face, his demeanor. A new scar here, a bit of stubble there. The weariness of searching for a cure for the darkspawn's taint. A comfortable confidence that hadn't been present during their earlier years.
Robyn smiled faintly. She was very much looking forward to liberating him from the armor and exploring at length what else might have changed since their last encounter. Maybe she could seize a gap in the Bann's stories, insist the Grey Wardens needed their beauty rest after a long day, and then... ]
[Bite your tongue. Alistair told himself. The less he interjected with nonsensical quips the quicker the Bann would run out of things to say. At least in theory, that is. Alistair wasn't completely aware of most of the things he'd been saying, busy thinking through his latest plan on his docket, where he'd be traveling tirelessly to next, and what precautions he'd need to take. There had been rumors of a cure since long before his birth, but no documentation he could find, and no one alive willing to discuss it with him.
Then of course, there was Robyn, and every moment he had to steal a glance, he did. Each comment or question the Bann would direct at her had been a gift, another excuse for him to look her way again, the faintest smile on his lips as he took in her beauty. Even in the most dreadful situations (of which they had found themselves in many), she had the ability to light up the room, and the elder warden found himself drawn to her like moth to flame.
She spoke, and truly Alistair hadn’t been listening well enough to know if it was relevant, either.]
Terribly so. Oh, that reminds me. I should go ensure the horses are well before it grows too cold in the night-- [He says this standing urgently, muttering over the Bann before he can object to such a ludicrous idea. As his guests, they had surely already been seen to, but it was the first thing that came to mind as an excuse to leave the room.]
Warden Cousland, if you don't mind assisting me? [His look is nearly pleading despite his tone formal, the hint of a smirk on his lips.]
[ Thank the Maker. Still, she nearly doesn't mask her surprise as Alistair speaks up on their behalf. It's too easy to slip back into the mindset of how things were back when they had first met, where she might have expected the senior Warden to cede taking the initiative to her.
Interesting. The tiniest playful smile quirks at her lips as she imagines if that change has translated elsewhere. ]
Of course. [ She stands with an almost solemn, apologetic air, laying a hand on her chest as she inclines her head to the Bann. ] Bann Sighard, you understand, don't you?
[ The man himself, stunned into a perplexed silence, seemed to remember himself at her words, leaning forward in his seat. ]
"Oh - yes, but, you needn't tend the horses! Maker knows we have people for that, and - "
[ In response, Robyn's eyes widen in faux-remembrance and concern, and she makes a show of turning to Alistair for a moment before returning her gaze to their host. ]
You don't know? Our deepest apologies, my lord - the horses of our order are a special breed, and their care is quite particular. It really would be best if we reviewed their health ourselves. If they catch a chill, they're liable to catch [ uhhhHHHH ] ...Winter's Lampost...Syndrome, and it can be terribly deadly.
[It should be no surprise to Robyn that without her around to default the decisions to, Alistair had to develop some leadership qualities. As the eldest Warden, the others looked up to him and expected him to call the shots, and after a bit of practice, he even found that he was rather good at it (Or at least there were very few complaints).
As Robyn turns to him and catches onto his little charade seamlessly, Alistair almost grins, his lips falling as he catches himself to try to feign a more grim expression. He was no bard, clearly.]
Yes! Terrible! [He nods.] Once the legs begin to lock up, they'll become stiff as a lamppost-- no recovery, I'm afraid. Very serious.
[This is said, of course, while he slowly inches to the doorway, beginning to make his exit.]
But don't worry, we have the proper insulation-- and we can find our way back to our rooms without issue. Thank you for being such an accomodating host.
[ If the Bann had been about to concede that his guests attend their horses and then return for further camaraderie, he would be sorely mistaken. Their host opens and closes his mouth a few times, gears moving as he processes the turn of events. Robyn can see another invitation coming, and - ]
Yes, the whole thing can be very tiring. Once we've seen to the mounts, I do think it'll be time for us to turn in, so... Thank you again for your hospitality, and very much looking forward to picking up where we left off in the morning.
[ The Bann, who seemingly hasn't caught a whiff of their true intentions, finally sighs and closes his mouth, conceding. As they move to the door, he regains a bit more of his composure, also rising to his feet. ]
"You know, an earlier night might do me some good as well. Until tomorrow, then, and thank you for the pleasure of your company."
[ Robyn, back to the door even as she grasps the handle behind her, smiles graciously. ]
A very pleasurable night, yes. Thank you. [ There's a last moment where she steps out into the hall, leaving the door open for her fellow Warden to pass through, before walking briskly toward the stables in question, not looking back. There's a chill in the air, as there almost always is within Ferelden, but she feels a deep-set heat brewing from within as she goes. ]
[There is a moment where Alistair almost panics, worried that the Bann had seen through their charade (Oh, if Duncan were alive he'd probably receive an earfull in the morning), but then the man concedes and Alistair lets out an exhale of relief.]
Yes, thank you again. Have a good night, until tomorrow... [He's quick then to turn and race out the door behind Robyn, the expression on his face one that reads he can't believe they had just gotten away with that; wide-eyed and smirking. An amused huff leaves his lips and shows on the chilled air, and he waits until he's certain that they're out of the line of sight from the doorway to lean against a wall and take a deep breath of relief.]
Winter's Lampost Syndrome... really? [He snorts, giving Robyn an incredulous look.] I can't believe that worked.
An expression I once learned from a wise man on the road. [ She replies airily, half-turning with a cool smirk before it collapses into a more Robyn-like, mischievous grin. ] Well, adapted from that expression, anyway.
[ As if anyone could forget Alistair's unique little quips, she thinks. Least of all the two of them, given the context of the original lamppost discussion. ]
And - excuse you! Warden of little faith! [ She reaches out to punch him soundly on the arm, brows lifting with the insult. ] I am obviously an accomplished liar [ says one of the worst liars in Thedas ] and may well have been a bard in another life. I hope you'll remember my fearsome and persuasive reputation next time, before you besmirch it.
[ There's a breathy sort of exhale as she chuckles, savoring the moment of levity between them. After everything...especially nowadays, with the grim nature of their work, and how little time they're able to spend in each other's company...the humor is badly needed. A gulp of water for a man in the desert, overcome with thirst.
...She remembers herself, remembers the intent. All at once takes in the closeness of him, and swallows hard as a little thrill of opportunity shoots from her toes into the crown of her head, and back down. Robyn closes the gap, gaze warm and hungry as it searches his face, drinks in his eyes, finds his lips. ]
...I missed you. [ The Hero murmurs, before cupping the side of his face in a hand and tilting her head upward to kiss him. ]
There is your first mistake, [He scoffs,] Ever thinking me wise.
[At least his quips come with a healthy dose of self-awareness, anyhow. There wouldn't be anything charming about him if they didn't.
He almost cackles as she punches his arm, playfully wincing and swatting her away.]
Ow! Obviously! Are you sure you weren't a sister in the chantry? I remember them threatening me with beatings as well.
[It's much needer humor, but moreso that seeing Robyn again is cause enough for celebration. The Bann is lucky that Alistair hadn’t begun smothering her in his affections the moment she'd entered the room.
Her sudden shift in energy doesn't go unnoticed, and Alistair's shoulders fall, relaxing as she presses closer, his hands seeking out her waist. Her hand is warm on his cheek despite the cold, but even if it weren't, there is a wamrth blooming within him now, and there is not a worry in all of Thedas on his mind as he's pulled in, reunited with his love.]
And I you, [He manages to reply just before their lips meet, voice soft in a way that's almost in reverence of her. His kiss is soft and slow also, like he's trying to make sure to savor every taste of her and remember every detail. They may very well be pulled from one another again tomorrow, this memory having to last him until their paths cross again.]
Mn, not a sister, then. [He mutters against her lips with a smirk, his arms wrapping around her tight so that she can't begin hitting him again in retaliation.] Clearly not chaste.
I obviously have never made a mistake in my life. [ Robyn replies softly, her lip twitching upward further into an amused smile. ] But you'll find the definition of "wisdom" is...diverse.
[ The combative humor between them aside, she would defend Alistair and his worth with every fiery ounce of herself, should the need arise. He'd done more for Ferelden and their order than most people would ever know, and she often finds herself fiercely proud, whether hearing about his work in letters, or from the mouths of their friends (Leliana in particular, with her many informants). That deep admiration and love blooms in her chest now, warmed by the presence of him, and she smiles into the kiss.
- Until the taunt, that is. Sagely, he's already secured her arms, but that doesn't stop her from immediately squirming defiantly to try and exact her revenge.
...Right, I've also got legs that work just as well. She aims a little kick to the side of his calf, puffing out a dissatisfied breath. ]
You're a monster. [ She informs him curtly, but can't help the impish grin from returning, in spite of her best efforts to be cross. ] ...And that's very presumptuous of you to say, Alistair. With just a kiss? [ Her expression shifts again as the grin mellows into a simple parting of her lips as she draws back, raising her mouth to his ear. ] Let me show you how devotional I can be.
Clearly. [There's no point in arguing this, he knows. He also knows that even if he did bother to argue, Robyn would only win in the end. If Alistair ever did find himself the instigator in the past, he's certainly met his match with the hero of Ferelden.] In that case, you'll have to humor me at some point.
[Not now, of course. It would distract him from the much more important business he needs to tend to, of course... even if it has resorted to kicking him now. Alistair cackles, but this only gives him more resolve, and while he'd certainly never hit back, he has other tricks up his sleeve to fight with.]
Oh, my mistake, I didn't anticipate you expecting me to forget all the times our tongues have been frozen to those lamposts, afterall. [He squirms under her kicks until she delivers such a tempting line that nearly puts any narrative he was following to rest, and Alistair shivers in response.]
Hmm, if you insist. [The reply is partnered with what surely will put an end to all of this abuse, his grip on her sliding down so that he can lift her up, hands secure under her bottom so that they're eye-to-eye where he stands, a devious grin on his lips.]
Perhaps you could show me inside then. You know, now that the horses have been tended to.
How un-Fereldan of you to shy away from the bitter cold in favor of warmer comforts. [ Hm. He's taken away her ability to attack. She sighs, the air visible between them. ] I'll have you know I would have had you in the stables, if that were our only option. But, yes, fine, have it your way.
[ Though hardly an exhibitionist, the Warden has very little patience at the moment for meticulous modesty, considering the bubbling urgency she feels, and the frequency (or lack thereof) of their being together. After all, the earliest days of their intimate explorations had been at camp, with the thin fabric of the tent between them and the others.
Back then, she'd blushed appropriately, but had continued anyway. Now, the idea gives her a little shock of thrill. Besides, who could deny two heroes of the Fifth Blight their pleasures in the few remaining years of their lives? ]
If I'm to be held captive like this, you'll have to find your own way inside, my lord. [ She adds lightly, with one hand wrapped around his neck, and the other slipping down to rest between his legs. ] But I have faith you can manage it.
Will you report me for treason? [He teases, but his voice is heated, the vision alone of a tumble in the hay with Robyn causing Alistair to flush with desire. His eyebrows raise up until his forehead is creased, and he looks at her with intrigue.] And deny you your fantasy? Please. Besides, with the facilities our gracious host has provided, I suspect you'll later indulge me in washing the stench of hay out of your hair?
[Somehow, despite the fact that he is literally soeaking of bathing, the husky tone of his voice has managed to make the act seem utterly filthy.]
I'd hardly call this captive, my lady. [His breath hitches as he feels her hand on him like that, and there's little he can do with his own hands at this point other than keep her steady, so instead he rolls them over, putting Robyn's back against the wall to help him support her as he leans in to press their lips together once more.]
No, [ She replies, in a light tone that doesn't quite mask the weight of her words. ] I'll see to your punishment myself.
[ Had an open-air tryst been a fantasy of hers, exactly? Maybe she wouldn't have claimed as much, but if he's willing to indulge a slightly more "risky" reunion, she isn't going to go back on her word. If the Bann catches wind of it and sees fit to never invite them back as a result, well. Perhaps all the better. ]
I'm inclined to not deny you anything today, love. [ Robyn purrs against his ear. He captures her again for a kiss, and this time is more insistent than the last. Her own heat has already spread through her like wildfire, alighting the nerves in her limbs and quickening the pulse at her throat. There's already (perhaps unsurprisingly) a needy ache between her own legs, but she's content enough to see to him at the moment. To first tease from the outside of the fabric as much as is possible, and then to quickly slip beneath his trousers.
It isn't the best angle in the world, but it's better than none at all. Besides, at least neither of them had been dining in full plate. ]
Alistair. [ Heady, ragged, she drinks him in as though this night will be their last. ]
Is that a promise? [He can't imagine what a punishment might entail at this point... particularly not after that little purr before their kiss, something tells him he'd enjoy whatever she chose to do, anyway.
With her back to the wall, one hand can slide up her hip while the other stays put firmly beneath her. The traveling hand slides beneath the hem of her tunic, chilled fingertips seeking heat. They spread over her stomach until he finds the curve of her waist and cradles her there.
He groans into the kiss as she touches him bare, hips twitching against her hand. His cock is already half-hard from the touch, the heat of their kiss, and the promise of what's to come. Alistair's mouth trails along her jawline, his breathing harsh between sucking kisses that if he isn't careful, might leave a mark. At least she'd have a little souvenir of their time together.
There's a tingling at his spine as he hears her breathe his name, and he sighs breathlessly against her flesh.]
A vow. [ They've had time over the years to explore, intimately, their likes and dislikes. A far cry from the two inexperienced Wardens who pawed clumsily at each other at camp, trying to direct the other to the right position, the more sensitive areas. Even with that time, though, the requisite travel apart necessitates...quite a bit of imagining. Robyn has pictured the pair of them in dozens of compromising situations, but even the most lewd of visions falls short of the real thing.
Besides, they could make time to try out some of those fantasies. She would see to it.
She shivers faintly as his hand finds bare skin, between the chill of the air and the thought of where it might go next. Her mind is torn in a dozen directions, one of which is on her fingers at his cock, wrapped around him and swiping briefly at his head, encouraging.
The wine served with their meal has nothing on the potency of this intoxication. Her head swims with lust, hips bucking inadvertently against him as the desire builds. There's a shaky breath, a faint, needy whine, and she allows him to travel the length of her jaw for a while before claiming his mouth with hers yet again, insistent.
The moment is reminiscent of the past, of younger lovers desperate to seek comfort in one another as much as possible, chasing a novel, powerful feeling. The difference is in the depth of it: the living being that is their relationship has grown, been nurtured, and she wants nothing more than for it to thoroughly consume her. ]
[Alistair's heart lurches forward at her words, the heat rising from
the base of his spine and throughout his chest, his face feeling flush and
warm. Robyn is as beautiful as he'd remembered her, and the passion between
them hasn't abated in the least.
The way her hand teases at him brings a sense of urgency to the warden, and
he steadies his grip on her with a soft, pleased sound. In a moment, he's
moving with her again, trying to find the balance between overwhelming her
with his own affections and taking caution not to send them both toppling
over into a pile of messy hay. Somehow, he manages to move them further
inside and out of the chill. What's more beneficial is that there are
surfaces there to rest Robyn upon and free his hands again, even if they're
less ideal for lovemaking.
Alistair's breath is heavy when they part, his hand sliding up from her
waist to cup firmly at a breast. The other hand that had been beneath her
to carry her in his arms slides around to her front to find it's way
beneath clothing as well, seeking the heat between her legs.]
A vow seems unnecessary-- [He teases between kisses, his fingers
slowly following the crease where thigh meets abdomen inward, his fingers
then beginning to push soft folds open.] You could do anything
you'd like with me right now and I'd let you--thank you for it.
[ The bite of the air is largely forgotten, at least for Robyn, as the heat between them continues to build. There's a pleased little exhale as he moves a hand to her breast, and then it hitches upward, nearly shuddering, when his fingers find their way beneath her own trousers. The core of her thrums against him, already aching for his attentions, and she nearly bucks against him as her desire swells yet again.
She's torn immensely between wanting to tear off all their clothes and straddle him, and continuing to pleasure each other as they are in this moment, and the immediacy of the reward of his touch wins out...for now. ]
Anything? [ It's a little teasing, and a little warning, too. With so much time to dream up new ideas and positions for the pair of them, she'd certainly be able to make good on his words. ] Maybe I'll - mm, tell you about some of the things I've imagined for us. Or - show you.
[ For now, though, she's wholly focused on his cock in her hand, encouraging, enticing. Spurring him on with the promise of more, and - eventually - the promise of overdue release. ]
[His thumb brushes over her nipple as the fingers of his hand cup beneath her breast and along her side, holding her close. His other hand continues to busy itself in her trousers, fingers sliding back along her opening, one of them pressing up to gather slick along her center and draw it back forward to circle teasingly at her clit.
From her reply, he could back down, tell her not anything exactly, but that wouldn't quite be true. He would give her anything, he trusts her wholly and implicitly. If there's anything that would make her happy, he'd do whatever it took to give it to her. So instead, he just hums happily and nods, a smirk on his lips as he presses his cheek to her own.]
Oh? There's an idea...[He shivers as her hand strokes at him again, his body arching forward into her touch.]
[ Maker. She's deeply torn between the primal desire she feels at reuniting physically with Alistair, and the notion of leading him off somewhere a touch more private to act on some of the ideas she has for the pair of them. His fingers at her clit are insistent, though, and she isn't sure she could will her body away from his touch for even a moment at this point. Not with the core of her burning, pulsing against him, begging without words for more. ]
I can barely - mm, manage to speak at all, damn you. [ She grins, wild and bright, as her breath comes hot at his cheek. ] It really...has been far too long.
[ Ah, well. She'll have to wait to share some of the fantasies with him until they're...between rounds, perhaps. For however long those lapses may be.
The feeling is like sparks of lightning between her legs, and she utters another, deeply pleased sound, stroking him in a steady motion. Robyn leans up to nip, kiss along his earlobe briefly before withdrawing, meeting his gaze with a look of intensity. ]
These. [ The Warden says, unoccupied hand grasping the waist of his trousers. ] Are in the way. Don't you agree?
[Her answer humors him slightly, as much as it can while his mind is already so distracted, anyway. The heat of her body, her touch--the way she moves against him. He coughs out a small sound that might count as laughter, but it's swallowed up by the soft groans and near-purrs in his pleasure.
Luckily for Robyn, Grey Wardens are known for their stamina. The promise to experiment with at least one or two of those fantasies of hers isn't out of the question, and given how long the two of them tend to spend apart, Alistair is rather committed to spending every moment he has with her over the course of the evening savoring that time.
Alistair shudders out a breath as she strokes him and nips at his skin. His eyes meet hers as she pulls back, a smirk on his lips as she tugs at his trousers.]
Without question, my love.
[As much as it pains him to take his hand off of her, it seems necessary in the moment. He wouldn't deny her the pleasure of his hand between her legs, so instead his hand falls from her chest to assist her in the removal of that pesky fabric, at least in pushing it down enough to free his cock. Once that's taken care of, his hand creeps to her own waist.]
And what of...what? [ She replies innocently, already in the process of tugging down the fabric from her hips to provide easier access. There's a little breath of satisfaction as they're both freed, and she only hesitates a moment to stare into his eyes, her warm, cinnamon gaze alight with insistence. ]
I want you. [ Robyn murmurs, cupping his face with a hand, using the other now to guide him between her legs where he'd been attending to her a moment before. ] I missed you.
[ Sometimes your own company isn't quite enough out there, in the busy, dangerous, lonely world of the Wardens.
She leans in, breaths hot against his ear, pressing the tip of his cock to her entrance, asking. ]
Well, Alistair? [ Show me. To what point has this time apart driven you? ]
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Yes, the man's enthused stories and gracious hosting were impressive, and well-earned by his guests, but the guests in question had other things on their minds.
Don't speak for your fellow Warden! Just because you're as impulsive as ever... Robyn Cousland, Hero of the Fifth Blight, glanced sideways at the other figure at the table. It had been a very happy accident that she and Alistair had been in the same relative part of Ferelden, considering how long it had been since they'd last been able to see each other. When the local Bann had somehow caught wind of this news, he'd cheerfully strong-armed the pair into an evening at his home, more than happy to repay some of the people who had saved his life.
It had seemed impolite to refuse him then, but now Robyn quite wishes they'd taken a firmer hand. ]
- Hm? Oh, yes. Very cold this time of year. [ Only semi-confident her answer had been at all related to what Oswyn had asked, she glanced again, covertly, to Alistair. How long had it been since they'd last had any time alone together? Though he, like her, currently wore the heavy armor and sigils of their order, she could see smaller changes in his face, his demeanor. A new scar here, a bit of stubble there. The weariness of searching for a cure for the darkspawn's taint. A comfortable confidence that hadn't been present during their earlier years.
Robyn smiled faintly. She was very much looking forward to liberating him from the armor and exploring at length what else might have changed since their last encounter. Maybe she could seize a gap in the Bann's stories, insist the Grey Wardens needed their beauty rest after a long day, and then... ]
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Then of course, there was Robyn, and every moment he had to steal a glance, he did. Each comment or question the Bann would direct at her had been a gift, another excuse for him to look her way again, the faintest smile on his lips as he took in her beauty. Even in the most dreadful situations (of which they had found themselves in many), she had the ability to light up the room, and the elder warden found himself drawn to her like moth to flame.
She spoke, and truly Alistair hadn’t been listening well enough to know if it was relevant, either.]
Terribly so. Oh, that reminds me. I should go ensure the horses are well before it grows too cold in the night-- [He says this standing urgently, muttering over the Bann before he can object to such a ludicrous idea. As his guests, they had surely already been seen to, but it was the first thing that came to mind as an excuse to leave the room.]
Warden Cousland, if you don't mind assisting me? [His look is nearly pleading despite his tone formal, the hint of a smirk on his lips.]
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Interesting. The tiniest playful smile quirks at her lips as she imagines if that change has translated elsewhere. ]
Of course. [ She stands with an almost solemn, apologetic air, laying a hand on her chest as she inclines her head to the Bann. ] Bann Sighard, you understand, don't you?
[ The man himself, stunned into a perplexed silence, seemed to remember himself at her words, leaning forward in his seat. ]
"Oh - yes, but, you needn't tend the horses! Maker knows we have people for that, and - "
[ In response, Robyn's eyes widen in faux-remembrance and concern, and she makes a show of turning to Alistair for a moment before returning her gaze to their host. ]
You don't know? Our deepest apologies, my lord - the horses of our order are a special breed, and their care is quite particular. It really would be best if we reviewed their health ourselves. If they catch a chill, they're liable to catch [ uhhhHHHH ] ...Winter's Lampost...Syndrome, and it can be terribly deadly.
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As Robyn turns to him and catches onto his little charade seamlessly, Alistair almost grins, his lips falling as he catches himself to try to feign a more grim expression. He was no bard, clearly.]
Yes! Terrible! [He nods.] Once the legs begin to lock up, they'll become stiff as a lamppost-- no recovery, I'm afraid. Very serious.
[This is said, of course, while he slowly inches to the doorway, beginning to make his exit.]
But don't worry, we have the proper insulation-- and we can find our way back to our rooms without issue. Thank you for being such an accomodating host.
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Yes, the whole thing can be very tiring. Once we've seen to the mounts, I do think it'll be time for us to turn in, so... Thank you again for your hospitality, and very much looking forward to picking up where we left off in the morning.
[ The Bann, who seemingly hasn't caught a whiff of their true intentions, finally sighs and closes his mouth, conceding. As they move to the door, he regains a bit more of his composure, also rising to his feet. ]
"You know, an earlier night might do me some good as well. Until tomorrow, then, and thank you for the pleasure of your company."
[ Robyn, back to the door even as she grasps the handle behind her, smiles graciously. ]
A very pleasurable night, yes. Thank you. [ There's a last moment where she steps out into the hall, leaving the door open for her fellow Warden to pass through, before walking briskly toward the stables in question, not looking back. There's a chill in the air, as there almost always is within Ferelden, but she feels a deep-set heat brewing from within as she goes. ]
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Yes, thank you again. Have a good night, until tomorrow... [He's quick then to turn and race out the door behind Robyn, the expression on his face one that reads he can't believe they had just gotten away with that; wide-eyed and smirking. An amused huff leaves his lips and shows on the chilled air, and he waits until he's certain that they're out of the line of sight from the doorway to lean against a wall and take a deep breath of relief.]
Winter's Lampost Syndrome... really? [He snorts, giving Robyn an incredulous look.] I can't believe that worked.
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[ As if anyone could forget Alistair's unique little quips, she thinks. Least of all the two of them, given the context of the original lamppost discussion. ]
And - excuse you! Warden of little faith! [ She reaches out to punch him soundly on the arm, brows lifting with the insult. ] I am obviously an accomplished liar [ says one of the worst liars in Thedas ] and may well have been a bard in another life. I hope you'll remember my fearsome and persuasive reputation next time, before you besmirch it.
[ There's a breathy sort of exhale as she chuckles, savoring the moment of levity between them. After everything...especially nowadays, with the grim nature of their work, and how little time they're able to spend in each other's company...the humor is badly needed. A gulp of water for a man in the desert, overcome with thirst.
...She remembers herself, remembers the intent. All at once takes in the closeness of him, and swallows hard as a little thrill of opportunity shoots from her toes into the crown of her head, and back down. Robyn closes the gap, gaze warm and hungry as it searches his face, drinks in his eyes, finds his lips. ]
...I missed you. [ The Hero murmurs, before cupping the side of his face in a hand and tilting her head upward to kiss him. ]
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[At least his quips come with a healthy dose of self-awareness, anyhow. There wouldn't be anything charming about him if they didn't.
He almost cackles as she punches his arm, playfully wincing and swatting her away.]
Ow! Obviously! Are you sure you weren't a sister in the chantry? I remember them threatening me with beatings as well.
[It's much needer humor, but moreso that seeing Robyn again is cause enough for celebration. The Bann is lucky that Alistair hadn’t begun smothering her in his affections the moment she'd entered the room.
Her sudden shift in energy doesn't go unnoticed, and Alistair's shoulders fall, relaxing as she presses closer, his hands seeking out her waist. Her hand is warm on his cheek despite the cold, but even if it weren't, there is a wamrth blooming within him now, and there is not a worry in all of Thedas on his mind as he's pulled in, reunited with his love.]
And I you, [He manages to reply just before their lips meet, voice soft in a way that's almost in reverence of her. His kiss is soft and slow also, like he's trying to make sure to savor every taste of her and remember every detail. They may very well be pulled from one another again tomorrow, this memory having to last him until their paths cross again.]
Mn, not a sister, then. [He mutters against her lips with a smirk, his arms wrapping around her tight so that she can't begin hitting him again in retaliation.] Clearly not chaste.
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[ The combative humor between them aside, she would defend Alistair and his worth with every fiery ounce of herself, should the need arise. He'd done more for Ferelden and their order than most people would ever know, and she often finds herself fiercely proud, whether hearing about his work in letters, or from the mouths of their friends (Leliana in particular, with her many informants). That deep admiration and love blooms in her chest now, warmed by the presence of him, and she smiles into the kiss.
- Until the taunt, that is. Sagely, he's already secured her arms, but that doesn't stop her from immediately squirming defiantly to try and exact her revenge.
...Right, I've also got legs that work just as well. She aims a little kick to the side of his calf, puffing out a dissatisfied breath. ]
You're a monster. [ She informs him curtly, but can't help the impish grin from returning, in spite of her best efforts to be cross. ] ...And that's very presumptuous of you to say, Alistair. With just a kiss? [ Her expression shifts again as the grin mellows into a simple parting of her lips as she draws back, raising her mouth to his ear. ] Let me show you how devotional I can be.
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[Not now, of course. It would distract him from the much more important business he needs to tend to, of course... even if it has resorted to kicking him now. Alistair cackles, but this only gives him more resolve, and while he'd certainly never hit back, he has other tricks up his sleeve to fight with.]
Oh, my mistake, I didn't anticipate you expecting me to forget all the times our tongues have been frozen to those lamposts, afterall. [He squirms under her kicks until she delivers such a tempting line that nearly puts any narrative he was following to rest, and Alistair shivers in response.]
Hmm, if you insist. [The reply is partnered with what surely will put an end to all of this abuse, his grip on her sliding down so that he can lift her up, hands secure under her bottom so that they're eye-to-eye where he stands, a devious grin on his lips.]
Perhaps you could show me inside then. You know, now that the horses have been tended to.
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[ Though hardly an exhibitionist, the Warden has very little patience at the moment for meticulous modesty, considering the bubbling urgency she feels, and the frequency (or lack thereof) of their being together. After all, the earliest days of their intimate explorations had been at camp, with the thin fabric of the tent between them and the others.
Back then, she'd blushed appropriately, but had continued anyway. Now, the idea gives her a little shock of thrill. Besides, who could deny two heroes of the Fifth Blight their pleasures in the few remaining years of their lives? ]
If I'm to be held captive like this, you'll have to find your own way inside, my lord. [ She adds lightly, with one hand wrapped around his neck, and the other slipping down to rest between his legs. ] But I have faith you can manage it.
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[Somehow, despite the fact that he is literally soeaking of bathing, the husky tone of his voice has managed to make the act seem utterly filthy.]
I'd hardly call this captive, my lady. [His breath hitches as he feels her hand on him like that, and there's little he can do with his own hands at this point other than keep her steady, so instead he rolls them over, putting Robyn's back against the wall to help him support her as he leans in to press their lips together once more.]
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[ Had an open-air tryst been a fantasy of hers, exactly? Maybe she wouldn't have claimed as much, but if he's willing to indulge a slightly more "risky" reunion, she isn't going to go back on her word. If the Bann catches wind of it and sees fit to never invite them back as a result, well. Perhaps all the better. ]
I'm inclined to not deny you anything today, love. [ Robyn purrs against his ear. He captures her again for a kiss, and this time is more insistent than the last. Her own heat has already spread through her like wildfire, alighting the nerves in her limbs and quickening the pulse at her throat. There's already (perhaps unsurprisingly) a needy ache between her own legs, but she's content enough to see to him at the moment. To first tease from the outside of the fabric as much as is possible, and then to quickly slip beneath his trousers.
It isn't the best angle in the world, but it's better than none at all. Besides, at least neither of them had been dining in full plate. ]
Alistair. [ Heady, ragged, she drinks him in as though this night will be their last. ]
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With her back to the wall, one hand can slide up her hip while the other stays put firmly beneath her. The traveling hand slides beneath the hem of her tunic, chilled fingertips seeking heat. They spread over her stomach until he finds the curve of her waist and cradles her there.
He groans into the kiss as she touches him bare, hips twitching against her hand. His cock is already half-hard from the touch, the heat of their kiss, and the promise of what's to come. Alistair's mouth trails along her jawline, his breathing harsh between sucking kisses that if he isn't careful, might leave a mark. At least she'd have a little souvenir of their time together.
There's a tingling at his spine as he hears her breathe his name, and he sighs breathlessly against her flesh.]
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Besides, they could make time to try out some of those fantasies. She would see to it.
She shivers faintly as his hand finds bare skin, between the chill of the air and the thought of where it might go next. Her mind is torn in a dozen directions, one of which is on her fingers at his cock, wrapped around him and swiping briefly at his head, encouraging.
The wine served with their meal has nothing on the potency of this intoxication. Her head swims with lust, hips bucking inadvertently against him as the desire builds. There's a shaky breath, a faint, needy whine, and she allows him to travel the length of her jaw for a while before claiming his mouth with hers yet again, insistent.
The moment is reminiscent of the past, of younger lovers desperate to seek comfort in one another as much as possible, chasing a novel, powerful feeling. The difference is in the depth of it: the living being that is their relationship has grown, been nurtured, and she wants nothing more than for it to thoroughly consume her. ]
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[Alistair's heart lurches forward at her words, the heat rising from the base of his spine and throughout his chest, his face feeling flush and warm. Robyn is as beautiful as he'd remembered her, and the passion between them hasn't abated in the least.
The way her hand teases at him brings a sense of urgency to the warden, and he steadies his grip on her with a soft, pleased sound. In a moment, he's moving with her again, trying to find the balance between overwhelming her with his own affections and taking caution not to send them both toppling over into a pile of messy hay. Somehow, he manages to move them further inside and out of the chill. What's more beneficial is that there are surfaces there to rest Robyn upon and free his hands again, even if they're less ideal for lovemaking.
Alistair's breath is heavy when they part, his hand sliding up from her waist to cup firmly at a breast. The other hand that had been beneath her to carry her in his arms slides around to her front to find it's way beneath clothing as well, seeking the heat between her legs.]
A vow seems unnecessary-- [He teases between kisses, his fingers slowly following the crease where thigh meets abdomen inward, his fingers then beginning to push soft folds open.] You could do anything you'd like with me right now and I'd let you--thank you for it.
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She's torn immensely between wanting to tear off all their clothes and straddle him, and continuing to pleasure each other as they are in this moment, and the immediacy of the reward of his touch wins out...for now. ]
Anything? [ It's a little teasing, and a little warning, too. With so much time to dream up new ideas and positions for the pair of them, she'd certainly be able to make good on his words. ] Maybe I'll - mm, tell you about some of the things I've imagined for us. Or - show you.
[ For now, though, she's wholly focused on his cock in her hand, encouraging, enticing. Spurring him on with the promise of more, and - eventually - the promise of overdue release. ]
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From her reply, he could back down, tell her not anything exactly, but that wouldn't quite be true. He would give her anything, he trusts her wholly and implicitly. If there's anything that would make her happy, he'd do whatever it took to give it to her. So instead, he just hums happily and nods, a smirk on his lips as he presses his cheek to her own.]
Oh? There's an idea...[He shivers as her hand strokes at him again, his body arching forward into her touch.]
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I can barely - mm, manage to speak at all, damn you. [ She grins, wild and bright, as her breath comes hot at his cheek. ] It really...has been far too long.
[ Ah, well. She'll have to wait to share some of the fantasies with him until they're...between rounds, perhaps. For however long those lapses may be.
The feeling is like sparks of lightning between her legs, and she utters another, deeply pleased sound, stroking him in a steady motion. Robyn leans up to nip, kiss along his earlobe briefly before withdrawing, meeting his gaze with a look of intensity. ]
These. [ The Warden says, unoccupied hand grasping the waist of his trousers. ] Are in the way. Don't you agree?
SLAMS IN HERE A MONTH LATER
Luckily for Robyn, Grey Wardens are known for their stamina. The promise to experiment with at least one or two of those fantasies of hers isn't out of the question, and given how long the two of them tend to spend apart, Alistair is rather committed to spending every moment he has with her over the course of the evening savoring that time.
Alistair shudders out a breath as she strokes him and nips at his skin. His eyes meet hers as she pulls back, a smirk on his lips as she tugs at his trousers.]
Without question, my love.
[As much as it pains him to take his hand off of her, it seems necessary in the moment. He wouldn't deny her the pleasure of his hand between her legs, so instead his hand falls from her chest to assist her in the removal of that pesky fabric, at least in pushing it down enough to free his cock. Once that's taken care of, his hand creeps to her own waist.]
And what of these?
SAME SAME
I want you. [ Robyn murmurs, cupping his face with a hand, using the other now to guide him between her legs where he'd been attending to her a moment before. ] I missed you.
[ Sometimes your own company isn't quite enough out there, in the busy, dangerous, lonely world of the Wardens.
She leans in, breaths hot against his ear, pressing the tip of his cock to her entrance, asking. ]
Well, Alistair? [ Show me. To what point has this time apart driven you? ]