RP: Alistair (fereldens_king) (NSFW content down the way)

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen hadn't slept well in years. Demons had tried to play their games, and when they weren't toying with him, nightmares of all the ways he'd failed Alistair all those years ago plagued him.

Figures it would take a botched grab for his own death, spurred by what he'd now been told was a false Calling, and a bizarre side-trip into the Fade to bring him a little peace.

Peace that had everything to do with the warm bulk of this impossible man beside him. Behind him? He wasn't sure as he came awake by bits and pieces. He was sprawled on his stomach, rolled there from his side in the... night? Did it count as night? He thought it might actually be darker now than it had been when they'd climbed into the bed.

And now that he was awake he could think about all the things he'd done yesterday since falling out of the Deep Roads and to this strange place that he shouldn't have.

Probably including climbing into bed with this Alistair, this strange mirror of his own Voice who he'd been aching to follow into death for years and now... He sighed raggedly, burying his face in the pillow under his head and tried to grapple with the sudden twist of loathing he felt for himself.

Comments

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

During Alistair's orgasm, Daylen was glad he was driving into his mouth, because he had to concentrate very hard on not letting whatever questing tendrils of magic that threatened to weave between them settle. There could be no bond, without intent. But it was hard, so hard, when Alistair was giving and open and wonderful.

So letting him fuck his mouth made perfect sense from that perspective. He also just liked it. He swallowed with the fluid that rushed across his tongue, letting the hands in his hair hold him in place until they released him and Alistair fell back.

Daylen stayed kneeling between his legs, panting, forehead pressed against his navel, ignoring the want, the tug that was turning to a prickling spur, that made his eyes sting. Maker, it hurt to have everything he wanted half-naked under him and not be able to reach for it. He pressed slow kisses against Alistair's stomach, taking deep, gulping breaths, trying not to let tears well up, and trying to force his own lust back.

[fereldans_king]

In a surprising show of strength for a boneless heap, Alistair hauled Daylen up from his kneeling position to one sprawled across his chest. Alistair kissed Daylen, slow but insistent, his tongue seeking out the sweet corners of Daylen's mouth unhesitatingly.

After a long (not long enough) moment, Alistair pulled back to look Daylen in the eyes. His smile was broad, his expression still blissed. Alistair's hands stroked across Daylen's exposed skin, following the same pattern Daylen's had across Alistair's - across his collarbones, up his shoulders, down his arms and then across Daylen's chest, where the gentle pad of a thumb rubbed across one nipple.

"That was...wow. I mean....wow." Alistair scattered tiny kisses all across Daylen's cheekbones and lips. He blushed, an eager expression creeping onto his face. "I hope I can reciprocate as...spectacularly."

(OOC: I should probably get some sleep, at some point tonight. But, *whines* I don't want to leave! *sigh, resigned* Continue tomorrow?)

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen let Alistair draw him up to his chest again, though he shifted slightly off to one side, not as much pressure directly on top of him. He kissed him back, languid and tender, and sighed softly when it broke. His smile was sweet and genuine though as he watched Alistair's face. The ache in him worth it to keep that blissful, wonderful smile true.

At the mention of reciprocation, Daylen flushed and looked away, before murmuring, "Alistair, I want too much with you. If you do that... the bond-- you might wind up with a part of me in your mind or heart or whatever for the rest of your life. I need to get back in control." He brushed his lips against Alistair's cheek softly. "

(OOC: Yep, I'm falling asleep and have to be at work in 5 hours. Boooo. Until tomorrow! They can argue about reciprocation then. ;) )

[fereldans_king]

Alistair turned and capture Daylen's lips in another kiss before he could pull away again. He tried to pour the warmth he felt laying here with Daylen, the feeling of suddenly no longer being alone, his desire to give back just as good as he had recieved, all that untutored passion, into the kiss - to tell Daylen without putting words to the giant jumble of emotions in his head and chest.

When Alistair pulled back, he looked thoughtful and serious. "What is it like, being Bonded?" He asked quietly, as his hands continued to roam across Daylen's back and sides - slowly exploring just as Daylen had earlier.

((OOC: And I had an interview six hours from then. Yay for crazy devoted muns, boo for work!))

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen made a surprised noise at Alistair took another kiss, but he wasn't proud enough to pretend it wasn't melting him in amazing ways. He hummed in his throat as Alistair broke away and then sighed, arching a little against the roaming hands

"Like being complete," he answered after a moment. "There are more colors in the world. Contentment. Rest and strength and knowing without doubt you are loved absolutely. Feeling more than just yourself." His voice dropped, husky and thick with emotion, eyes closed because there were definitely tears there.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair hummed thoughtfully as Daylen described what being Bonded was like. He leaned in and pressed gentle kisses to each of Daylen's eyes, before commenting softly, "Who could ever want to refuse a gift like that?"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

(OOC: Home from work finally. Apologies in advance for Daylen being sort of prickly and jerkish. ;) )

The kisses over his eyes made Daylen sigh, then again, more heavily at Alistair's words. He tried to roll off of him. "Lots of people. People who believe the chantry is right. People who've seen a bonded Voice waste away to nothing when their mage was executed as a maleficar. Anyone who's ever heard anything about Tevinter is usually pretty fucking hesitant."

Daylen never wanted to stop touching Alistair, wanted to seek that comfort, the press of hands and warm skin. Instead he tried to put distance between them. "It isn't... what did you call it? A romantic fantasy. It's hard, and it hurts. When my Voice died I begged for death. For days. Zevran and Leliana were kind. Wynne couldn't even look at me. For years I couldn't taste food, nothing felt like anything. I went through the motions, but there was nothing inside me. I'm pretty sure none of the wardens who were in Amaranthine ever learned my first name because I wouldn't talk to them. Here, with you, it's like some shade has been lifted and there's light again, and I'm terrified of losing it... but if it goes further, if we bonded, and I'm still not sure it's possible, and then for some reason in all the mess here we got separated, or... one of us was killed..." He broke off, choking back a sob, and pressing thumbs into his eyes to stifle the tears. "I can't risk it, and I cannot risk you."

[fereldans_king]

((OOC: Conflict, my favorite spice! *grin*))

Alistair's grip on Daylen tightened for a moment, before he reluctantly let the mage move away from him. The frustration and pain in Daylen's voice cut through the mellow, drowsy feeling suffusing Alistair, and he pulled himself up, leaning back on his arms so that he could give Daylen the space he seemed to need. The warm, humming sensation of Daylen's magic moving against his senses turned sharp and cold, a jarring vibration instead of a gentle hum, as Daylen worked himself up.

"Daylen..." Alistair hesitated, and then shook his head. With a determined set to his expression, he spoke. "The Chantry is not the supreme voice of authority on magic, in your time or mine. You may have been too busy in the Deep Roads to have heard, but the Chantry tried to help solve the Mage-Templar War with their dogma and rhetoric, and only succeed in getting most of themselves killed. They tried to denounce the Herald of Andraste, a mage like yourself, as heretical and the source of the problems with the Breach - and Lady Trevelyan has done an admirable job at proving them wrong." Alistair held up a single finger - point number one.

A second finger joined the first - point number two. "There are any number of stories about true lovers wasting away to nothing after they've lost their soulmate; there are just as many lascivious tales about a rakish gentleman sweeping in and saving the lady from pining away. It is not an unfamiliar concept. And who exactly would try to execute the Hero of Fereldan for blood magic? Especially with the backing of well-liked ruler."

A third finger - point number three. "Everyone is hesitant about anything that comes out of Tevinter. It's rather a moot point, don't you think?"

Alistair sighed, his expression serious again. "I am sorry for your grief and your pain. If I could kick my other self for leaving you in such a state, you can damn well bet I would. No one deserves to be left alone in the world." He reached out, slowly, to take Daylen's hand in his.

"Please. I....I don't want to upset you any further." Alistair shifted uncomfortably - both due to the desire to comfort the upset man in front of him, and because of the jagged feeling of Daylen's disquieted magic.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen raked his hands through his hair and then threw them up into the air, sitting up suddenly. "Sweet baby Andraste's dirty diapers, Alistair! You aren't listening!" He twisted around to look at him, sitting on his feet, on his knees, and crowded him, nose nearly touching. "I am trying to save you. If whatever it takes to get you home, safe and alive, means I can't go with you? If we're bonded I won't be strong enough to let you go. You'll hurt, and you'll pine, and you might become cruel, and you'll die."

He reached out, despite how frantic he'd become thinking about this future in which he lost Alistair again, with the tenderest fingers to cup his jaw. "I won't do that to you. And you said, before you said you have to return to them. So, what if this is all a spell, and it's broken, and we all just go back to where we came from? Do you want to feel me burn to death in the Deep Roads and then live with that pain here--" he moved his hand to Alistair's bare chest, fingers almost snapping with heat above his heart. "--until it ate you alive and you died? And you'd hate me. Oh, you would hate me for doing that to you, to your country."

He folded forward, slowly, slowly, unable to resist now that his hands were on Alistair again, and pressed his forehead to his chest, shoulders shaking. He was afraid. This close, with skin contact, and as close to bonding as they'd been, his fear was like a flavor in the air, cold and sharp, strangling. Encompassing.

[fereldans_king]

Daylen's fear was like the bitter tang of chalk, the harsh vibration of his magic like broken glass and metal in Alistair's head and chest. He visibly flinched as Daylen's ranting got louder and more distressed, one hand coming up to shield an ear in a futile gesture - Daylen's magic was definitely responding to his agitated emotions. The heat from Daylen's hand above his heart drew a pained grunt.

But the stinging, scraping sensation only made Alistair determined, angry. "I am listening, Daylen. You are frightened and angry and had given up hope, and now you're trying to save me because you feel guilty for not having saved him." Some part of Alistair's brain screeched at him to stop, that he was being cruel, that he had no right to say something like that. He ignored in, and pushed onwards.

"It was never your job to save everyone, Warden Amell - it was your job, and his, to end the Blight and give Thedas another opportunity to find peace for a time. He did his job, not just for his country, or for Thedas. He did it for you. Because he loved you enough to want peace for you."

Alistair, forcing himself to be calm, to ignore the sandpaper ache causing tremors in his shoulders, and to wrap his arms around Daylen in a gentle hug. He sighed, and murmured, "I am not him, and you cannot save me from something that may already be too late."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Alistair's words and strong arms and the fact that Daylen knew he had to be hurting him, made him damp it back. His control was not what it used to be, over his emotions, newly awakened, or his magic, but he tried, shoving it all down and away, and breathing, a slow shudder.

"He was the only one who mattered to me," he whispered, breathless and hollow against Alistair's collar bone. "I did things that made him so angry to try to give us a chance, but he still died."

He was still afraid, desperately so, but his franticness had subsided. "It isn't too late. It's there, like a window waiting to be opened, but we haven't bonded. But you are my Voice, Alistair. I'm pretty damn sure about that now, and lucky me, you're as much of a stubborn arse as he was."

[fereldans_king]

Alistair gently ran his fingers through Daylen's hair, and sighed. The choking, bitter tang subsided as Daylen worked to control himself, though the scraping, stinging vibration remained. Alistair winced, minute trembling still shaking his body. "People make their own choices. We Wardens make our choice with our eyes open - 'In death, sacrifice.'"

He tried to aim for a jesting tone, the humor poorly disguising the pain in his voice. "And somethings never change, Daylen. The sun rises in the East, the darkspawn are awful, and I am a stubborn idiot, to whom unfortunate things occur. We may not be Bonded, but..." He winced again, raising a hand to rub at his forehead. "I have never had a reaction this strong to anyone's magic before."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The soothing touch gentled Daylen down a little further, but the pain in Alistair's voice was too much. "Shit. I'm sorry, let me..." He wormed off of the poor man again, hoping that if they weren't touching it would make it less painful. Then he rubbed a hand on the leg of his pant over his thigh, looking a little nervous, before summoning a tiny healing spell and brushing it against Alistair's temple.

"You're not an idiot, by the way. I mean, maybe for wanting to hitch your wagon to this old broken down mule, but... no I take it back. Total idiot." His attempt at an amused smile was tremulous at best.

[fereldans_king]

Daylen pulled away and the intensity of the sensations dimmed. They were still unpleasant, but it was as if they were reaching out through a thick, woolen blanket. Much of the tension caused by the pain left Alistair - an unwitting sigh escaped his lips.

The healing spell in Daylen's hand sang like a chiming bell, and felt like warm sunshine at his temple. He closed his eyes as the spell worked its way across his face....and completely failed to further diminish the background ache. He opened his eyes, and gave Daylen amshake of his head and a soft, sad smile.

"Broken down mule? Where? All I see is a worried, handsome mage. I'm sorry, Daylen - I can still feel you."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

"I should go." Daylen's voice was abrupt and certain. "If I'm hurting you, I should give you some space until I've stopped freaking out." He scrubbed his hands through his hair. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "I thought maybe the healing spell would give the energy some direction, but... apparently I need to go be a demon magnet someplace else for a few hours."

He looked like he wanted to grip Alistair's arm, but hesitated, drew the hand back to his side with a grimace. If touch made the hurt worse he didn't know how to help. A man who was impossibly his Voice was hurting and he was making it more painful with his presence.

[fereldans_king]

((OOC: So I think this is an excellent opportunity for Daylen to be able to go an talk with Neria, if this is where you'd like to end this thread. Ialistair would love to keep going, to keep trying to convince Daylen that this is not the end of the world...but Daylen seems like he needs some space.))

Alistair looked like he wanted to argue, looked ready to insist that Daylen stay and rest, relax. He didn't want the conversation to end with the two of them upset and hurting - him metaphysically, Daylen emotionally.

"...Maybe some time for both of us to clear our heads. Maybe all this aching is my body telling me that I'm dehydrated and hungry. But Daylen..." Alistair reached a hand out to Daylen, mentally willing the mage to take, to allow him one last hug before they both ran off to lick their wounds and think things through. "Don't wander to far?"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

(OOC: That sounds perfect!)

Alistair's agreement made Daylen frown suspiciously at him for just a moment, unsure if he felt relieved or... disappointed. Because now he was going to have to leave him, put on clothes, wander off and try to figure his own head out. Which was something he'd been failing to do for years now.

The offered hand made the corner of his mouth lift in a sad half-smile, and he took it, leaning down to rest his forehead against Alistair's for a brief touch. "I have no idea how far I can wander, but it sounded like from the book, there aren't that many places I could go." He gave him a kiss on the brow, breathed in the scent of his hair, and then slid over his legs and off the bed.

He didn't look over his shoulder as he hunted up the shirt and and belt Alistair had brought him, boots that weren't covered in filth and blight. "Maker, I need to burn all of that in case it's tainted," he muttered. He grabbed his staff's sling and hooked it over his back. Just in case.

"So... see you soon?" he asked quietly as he walked toward the door. He looked smaller, felt smaller, even this much distance bringing a sucking sensation of defeat, melancholy. But Alistair was being hurt by him, and he couldn't abide that.

[fereldans_king]

The farther Daylen was from him, the quieter the aching noise became. But in it's place came a wave of sadness, of longing, of loneliness. It took all of Alistair's will not to grab Daylen in his arms and try hide the two of them away from all of this frustrating mess.

"Whenever you wish, Daylen. I'm sure I'll be right as rain soon. This..." Alistair made a vague gesture at his head. "Has never lasted long before." His own expression spoke of forced calm, a poorly fitted mask for his aching head and his own melancholy.

(OOC: So, either you or I can start a "after they've had some time to think" thread, if you like. No, I'm not really invested in seeing these two suffer and eventually have a happy, lusty ending, why do you ask? *grin*)

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen could really pull a guilty pair of puppy eyes, couldn't he? He nodded to Alistair, took a measured breath, telling himself that he'd be fine, they'd see each other again very soon, and that he wasn't going to disappear just because they were parted.

He forced himself out the door, letting it fall shut with a soft thump behind him.

(OOC: K. Thread closed. Gonna PM about next scene.)