RP: Alistair (fereldans_king) (NSFW content down the thread)

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The day had dragged on, colder and bleaker and emptier, and every instinct Daylen had told him to find Alistair again. Stubbornness kept him from doing so.

It wasn't until after he'd awoken from a nap with a strangled shout in an armchair in the library window that he'd returned to the room they'd spent the night.

He opened the door too hard, sweat wet on his forehead, panting from having run halfway there. He stepped in, noticed the tub was emptied, things were tidied, the bed was made, all of those things but the man himself? Not.

Idiot. Daylen knuckled his forehead, closing his eyes and listening to the pull, the tug inside him. He was nearby at least and he could follow it if he could settle himself down enough. Which was hard with the images of the demons toying with Alistair flashing behind his eyelids.

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[fereldans_king]

Alistair had let Daylen leave with a heavy heart and an aching head. For a long while, he simply sat on the edge of the bed, head cradled in his hands, massaging his temples (even though he knew that it wouldn't help).

The sensation of Daylen's magic was unlike any other mage Alistair had ever encountered. Ever since he had completed his Templar training under Knight-Commander Greagoir, Alistair had been more aware of the flow of magic and mana through the world. Before, he'd only ever been able to see and feel a spell as it was cast, as any other mortal. After, he'd been able to feel mana, like some great ocean, rising and falling like the tides, as the mages around him channeled their will.

Once he'd been able to understand what he was feeling, Alistair had learned to distinguish what the feelings meant. A mage's latent magical ability had specific feeling, unique to each mage. It rose and fell with the amount of mana and willpower a mage retained, and it wove and twisted to reflect the mage's emotions. But it was always distinct from any other mage, and Alistair had used that to great affect on the battlefield - rushing to the aid of Morrigan or Wynne as their mana ran dry, or Silencing an enemy mage just as they gathered their magic around themselves for some devastating attack.

Daylen's presence in Alistair's head was more nuanced, more clear - as Daylen walked further and further away, Alistair had expected his ability to sense him to disappear, like a battle map marker falling off the edge of the table. Instead, it simply grew fainter. Alistair, if he reached out, could pinpoint where he was in the castle - like a lodestone pointed unerringly towards the mage.

Eventually, the scrabbling, scrapping sensation of fear and anger and sorrow faded enough that Alistair longer winced and trembled. He felt raw, like every exposed nerve had been sandpapered. The only time he'd ever felt even close to this had been after the fight with Flemeth - her dying cry has carried so much anger and pain that Alistair had fallen to his knees, hands clapped against his ears in a desperate, futile attempt to block out the magical sensation of being flayed.

Alistair forced himself up off the bed. He set to work righting the room - emptying the copper bath of the scummy, stagnant bath water; making the bed and straightening the table and chairs. He contemplated lighting a fire in the fireplace to warm the room up, and got as far as laying the wood out before he changed his mind.

Over the course of the next several hours, Alistair accomplished a number of things. He bathed, he found clean clothes that mostly fit him (the shirt was just slightly too tight across his chest), he borrowed a shaving kit from another room (as well as cleaned and returned it afterwards), and he spent a lot of time thinking.

He came to a couple of conclusions in the course of that time. One, whether or not he was 'Bonded' to Daylen, his own Templar abilities certainly seemed to think so. He had heard of Templar and mage pairings which had become so attuned to each other that they were nearly inseparable - able to work together with amazing efficiency and to great effect, but no longer able to work smoothly or well with others. That was Alistair's only explanation for why he could, with the tiniest amount of effort and focus, pinpoint how far away Daylen was and get a general sense of his emotional state.

Two, (after Alistair had spent some time reading through the magical notes of Neria, Aria, and Dagna) if this strange Skyhold was a magical construction caused by the shattering of the Inquisitor's eluvian, then there was some hope that a reconstructed eluvian might allow them to traverse back to their own times and places. It was unlikely that some sudden upheaval would throw them back into their own timelines without warning.

Three, Cullen and Daylen did not deserve the fates that awaited them if they returned to their own reality. A world where the Inquisitor had not turned out to be a kind, self-sacrificing woman, but a demon-possessed tyrant, and a guaranteed death at the hands of darkspawn in the Deep Roads? If Alistair could do anything to prevent that from happening to either man, he would gladly do so.

Alistair awoke from his musing and found himself in the plant-filled courtyard, standing next to the large waystone. He sighed, and leaned against it for a moment, contemplating the ugly sky and his predicament.

"Four," he said aloud, "I am a stubborn idiot, and that means I get to be bullheaded about things that are important."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

It was amazing what could turn a battle mage, a Warden Commander, a man nearing thirty into an anxious adolescent again. Part of that had to be from the fact that Daylen had experienced such horrific loss when he was barely more than a boy, and after that he just hadn't felt anything except for pain for years.

As Daylen paced slowly to where the pull inside him led he realized how ridiculous it would sound when he told Alistair I had a nightmare and I needed to make sure you were okay. That you were real.

He ran his hands through his thick hair twice as he dithered outside the door to the garden collonade. There was every chance that Alistair, now that the moment had passed, would have realized the madness of seeking this connection with Daylen. That without Daylen's magic apparently nagging at him like a toothache he would be able to think clearly enough to know that he didn't want to be plagued by sensations that were beyond his control.

It was cold, Daylen had been unbearably chilled as he wandered Skyhold and the thought of curling into Alistair's broad warm body was all he wanted and he knew it was the bleak leaching of his magic that had increased in intensity since he'd wandered away. But why would Alistair want him anywhere close if his touch caused so much discomfort when he was upset?.

And Daylen couldn't lie. He was not really a calm, even tempered man.

"Stop being an ass," he muttered to himself.

He pushed open the door and strode in, keeping his shoulders loose and a wry smirk on his lips as he approached Alistair, but there was a bleak knot of worry that he would be facing rejection from the man he was pretty much fatally in love with. Again.

(OOC: sorry it took me so long. Phone reply at work on my break. :D)

[fereldans_king]

Alistair's back was towards the door, but he knew Daylen was there before the mage pushed open the door and stepped out into the garden. Even through his distracted reverie, he'd felt the sharp stab of panic as Daylen awoke from what must have been a nightmare, and had been able to feel Daylen once again moving closer. The mage must have stopped at the room they had been in earlier, for the panic had eventually transmuted somewhat to concern and curiousity.

Now, the mage's magic was a bleak, tolling bell of worry, buffered somewhat by the space between them. Alistair closed his eyes, and unconsciously tried to exude comfort & calm - tried to push the feeling of "It will be alright/It is not as bad as it seems" towards Daylen.

Finally, he opened his eyes and spoke. "Daylen. I'm glad you came back."

((OOC: No problem! No rush necessary.))

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen watched Alistair silently as he moved toward him, the line of his shoulders, the way his hair curled at his nape. The sight of him made something tight and anxious in his chest loosen, but the sudden sensation of comfort made him stumble as he missed a step.

He stalked forward more quickly, frowning in confusion and circled around until he could crowd Alistair's space, peering at him. "How in the void are you doing that?" What he felt, Alistair's attempts at soothing him, even if it was felt like a conversation heard through the thin wall of a cheap inn, shouldn't have been possible without a bond.

And they weren't. At least not... not from his perspective. He couldn't feel Alistair, beyond the subtle tug, the draw of him, an awareness of a presence like sunlight he wanted to turn toward. It was maddening. Frustrating and confusing and made his tantrum earlier seem all the more childish if something had slipped and they were already this aligned and that sort of made him want to have another tantrum, honestly.

Being wrong was terrible.

His frown softened a little, more sulky than angry and he relaxed back a step. "Sorry. I..." He grimaced, all the possible explanations or segues that started with Sorry, I clogging his throat. He took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly, looking down at his feet as he tried to order the churn inside him.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair stood steady as Daylen crowded into his space, the mage's confusion and frustration adding a metallic note to his earlier worry. Well, Daylen's reaction certainly helped to support his own theories about the sensations he was experiencing.

"No, it's alright. What does it feel like I'm doing, Daylen?" Alistair's thoughtful expression was calm and focused. He watched Daylen's face, trying to read the emotions he saw there and matching them up to the noise in his head. A deep, bleak bell for worry; the metallic shink of moving chain mail for frustration; a mournful gong for sorrow.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The steadiness of Alistair's response eased Daylen's worry that Alistair was going to flinch away from him in discomfort again. He took a steadier breath, and thought about it, carefully, wanting to get the words right. "You're pushing at me. It's faint, like I can hear a voice, but can't make out the words."

He cocked his head, closing his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he listened. "It's like a hand..." He reached up and brushed his own hand over the back of his neck. "Gentle, cool, easing the flush of fever." He opened his eyes again, and they were clearer, the expression more open, even as he pulled a face. "Well, shit."

[fereldans_king]

Alistair nodded, a wry smile creeping onto his lips. "I thought that might be the case." He held out a hand, an open invitation for Daylen to step closer if he wished, but not pushing. "Have you ever heard of a mage-Templar pairing? Or seen one? I know that Kinloch didn't have among their garrison - it's generally been more common in Orlais or Tevinter."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The step Daylen took was unconscious; of course he wanted to be closer, and Alistair's gesture just drew him in. He folded his arms though, because he wasn't a puppy, just waiting to jump back into the other man's lap.

He shook his head, frowning thoughtfully. "No. Where I'm from any mage that forms a particular bond in a Circle is suspect. Voices are anathema, so can't go letting anyone think you've formed a connection with someone. It's a good way to wind up sent to an entirely different Circle. Or made Tranquil."

[fereldans_king]

Alistair tried not to look disappointed as Daylen stopped short and closed himself off. And Daylen's explanation, he winced slightly. "Ah, right. I can imagine it would be looked down on upon then..."

Alistair raised the outstretched hand and scratched his head absentmindedly, before speaking. "I think it was first noticed in Orlais - they're more open about mages wandering, and even living outside the Circles, after all. But those mages often have a...guardian" Alistair privately thought that most of those mages thought of their Templar shadow as a jailer instead. "A Templar, assigned to assist them as they go about their duties to the Circle. A mage skilled in healing might have to go to a village that had been raided by bandits, and no one wanted to see something...untoward happen to that healer, after all."

Alistair gazed up at the sky, trying to maintain his calm expression. Perhaps if he could explain it calmly and clearly, Daylen would be...less upset when he realized what Alistair was actually saying. "In some cases, the Templar and the mage would become so comfortable, so trusting of the other, that they would be able to predict and augment each other's abilities. It's actually encouraged, in a lot of cases - the mage has a guardian against exterior threats that might hurt them, skilled in preventing the mage from becoming a threat, and the Templar is reminded that his charges are human, just like he or she is."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen chewed on the corner of his thumbnail as he listened, eyes tracing the line of Alistair's neck and jaw as he looked up at the sky. Maker, he was handsome. He rolled his eyes at himself, running his thumb across the grain of his stubble before asking, "So, what, that's what's happening here? It doesn't have anything to do with Voices or soulmates?" He didn't like that idea, at all, he found. "You're just attuning to me as a bloody Templar? Oh, like an Ash Warrior and a mabari?"

He paced several steps, not away but laterally and then back, shaking his head. "No, that... that can't be all of it. You're reading me, even if it's my magic that's causing the resonance, and you're pushing back. Were these Templars able to control their mages emotions or something like that?" He's far less agitated than his words indicate, more than that his curiosity is piqued.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair stopped watching the sky and made a face at Daylen at the comment about the Ash Warriors and their mabari. "Only if you want to be insulting, and you consider the Templars like the Mabari. It's not as simple as that."

He watched Daylen pace, quietly admiring the lines of the man's figure (even if the clothes were too big for him, he was still very pleasant to watch). With a serious expression, he continued, "Templar-mage pairs don't work with just anyone, Daylen. It takes trust and understanding, personal compatibility as well. It's a form of companionship - a form of freedom." Alistair remembered hearing rumors of a mage and Templar who were working for the Inquisition, far from any Circle or garrison which might restrict them - Evangeline and some name starting with R.... "The pairs frequently don't work well with others if they are separated for long periods of time. And they don't control each other, either. More like they temper each other when they are together. Most of the time it's just familiarity with the person - like siblings or spouses can help calm or cheer each other."

Alistar paused, reflecting on his own abilities and how they were likely influencing (interfering, more likely) the situation. "Greagoir said that very few Templars gain the ability to feel magic as clearly as I do. Most often, I can feel when a mage is around me - their mana, when they are about to cast, that sort of thing. If I've spent enough time with a mage, I can tell what they are going to cast based on the...'sound'" Alisatir tapped his temple to indicate that it wasn't a true sound, "that their magic is making."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The pacing stopped when Alistair spoke about himself, Daylen turning to look up at him, one eyebrow lifted. "You can do that without lyrium?" Daylen knew that Templars didn't require lyrium in order to use most of their abilities, but it did make certain ones more potent, and what Alistair was describing was definitely in the family of skills that lyrium helped with.

Unless he was taking it? But Daylen would have smelled it, tasted it on him when they kissed, when he... he ducked his head, a flush of embarrassment, a twinge of desire distracted him. "You've only just met me, and you're already pretty attuned to my magic? That's what you're saying?"

[fereldans_king]

Alistair wondered what Daylen had thought about to cause the muted, warm rumble of horn to roll through his head. He thought back over all the sounds he'd come to associate with Daylen, and blushed when he realized what that had likely been: desire.

"I've never needed a lot of lyrium to make use of my Templar abilities." Alistair smiled, a bit of pride suffusing face. "Greagoir was astounded what I could accomplish without it, and Cousland I think appreciated my decision not to burden our coffers with yet another lyrium drinker."

He nodded in response to Daylen's second question. "Incredibly attuned. I think I could pinpoint you anywhere in the castle, if I tried hard enough."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The way Alistair blushed had always been one of Daylen's favorite things and he watched him with a faint smirk, letting it go unremarked even as it sparked a sudden upwelling of feelings when it combined with a confidence, a pride, that had only begun to develop in his lover during the Blight. He felt the twinge of desire strengthen and twist, as it combined with the sudden grip around his heart of... it was a tangled nest of tenderness and want and worry and guilt but the strongest thread was fierce and protective.

The answer though, that made Daylen's brow furrow. "And it isn't just my magic that you're feeling, is it? Even when my mana was quiet, well, as quiet as it ever is, you were in pain..."

[fereldans_king]

Alistair's head was filled with a complex melody of sounds, and he paused to try and pick them apart and identify them. Desire, worry, something like sadness but with more bite, and a warm wash of brightness that was...possessiveness? No, protectiveness. He smiled, and gave Daylen a look filled with fondness, before his brain caught up with his ears.

"Ah...well, no. Not just your magic." Alistair looked a bit sheepish, as if he has been caught at something slightly embarrassing. Eavesdropping on someone's emotions was exactly a virtuous act. "My attunement isn't necessary to your magic - it's to you. I can feel your emotions just like I can feel your magic - it 'sounds' very similar in my head. There's some mention of that in the records about Templar-mage partnerships, I'm sure - it's certainly was a part of the stories the Templar recruits told. The stories always included some romantically inspired line like, 'and they worked in tandem, moving smoothly through the battlefield as if they could read each others thoughts.'"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen took a step closer to Alistair, chewing on the corner of his thumb again as he considered all of this. It was absent, both the step and the gesture, seeking comfort as he tried to puzzle through some of this information.

"It sounds a lot like a Voice bond. But... we haven't-- it hasn't--" He frowned, shaking his head sharply. "I can't hear you like that." He dropped his hand from his mouth and ran it through his hair, tugging at a fistful before letting it fall back into his eyes. "I'm sorry I let that happen without realizing it." There was the guilt again, blue eyes glancing away, but he also had to swallow his dread that all that was between them was a Templar thing... that Alistair wasn't his Voice, that there wasn't some fated love set to blossom between them in order to save him. And guilt that he'd even feel bad about that.

[fereldans_king]

"Daylen...it isn't your fault. Stop thinking about it like that." Alistair's voice was fond, but exasperated. He too stepped forwards, into Daylen's space, though he hesitated to touch the man without his explicit permission. His arms, which had raised to wrap Daylen in a hug, dropped again to his sides.

He tried another tactic. "Could you feel your Alistair's" and wasn't that a strange thing to hear himself say, stirring feelings of desire and jealousy in the pit of his stomach, "emotions before you Bonded? Or did that come afterwards? What usually happens when a Mage and their Voice meet?"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

One thing that was really wearying about having someone able to feel his emotions, Daylen had found, was that he had a lot of them and sometimes they were just responses he couldn't control. The exasperation in Alistair's voice made his eyes flash with just a little bit of temper, but when he saw his arms drop from where they were about to hug him, it dampened, and at the question it fled.

"Well, usually you meet them first in the Fade, I told you that. Then you spend a long time pining after someone that is probably on the other side of the country. Or in my case not in the Tower. Then if you're really lucky you know enough about them from their dreams, like their name or where they live, that if you aren't locked up in a Circle you can find them." He gave a slight, sad smile. "Do you know that darkspawn nightmares are the most terrifying thing in the world when you don't know your Voice has taken the Joining?"

With a head shake, he continued. "You want to touch. You can't feel them, but there's an awareness, like they're warm and you want to be nearer and nearer. Touching is good. Skin contact is better. Kissing...kissing is really good" He had a blush high up on his cheeks again. "You don't know where they are, or what they're feeling until after the bond forms, and then you can push your emotions forward to comfort or sooth or..." He cleared his throat. "Arouse. Tease. It's like... you can touch them here." He rested a hand over his own heart. "And then sex with declarations of love and trust and devotion, and then you're all bonded up."

It was incredibly intimate to talk about, and he looked nervous as he shifted his weight and glanced up at Alistair. And he felt nervous, but also yearning that got stronger when he looked up at him. He still managed to keep from reaching though. If he touched him this rational conversation would all be over.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair listened, both to Daylen's words and to his emotions as he spoke. He smiled wryly. "I am going to be that it was not as easy or as simple as you just suggested, considering my stubborn head was involved."

He closed his eyes, and pushed his blooming fondness for the mage, his attraction to the handsome man in front of him, his own selfish desires for companionship and comfort, and, foremost, his acceptance of the connection that had already formed between the two of them.

"Daylen, I told you about the partnership that can form between mages and Templars to help you understand...I am not daunted by the possibility of being Bonded to you." Alistair's voice took on a soft, joking tone. "In a way, I already am."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

"Oh Maker, he was absurd." Daylen broke off as the emotions were pushed forward at him, blinking against the sting in his eyes at the wash of emotions, the strength of them, the way they felt like... well like kissing the man had. Heat and light returned to the darkness. He stepped further forward as if tugged on a string, chest coming very near to Alistair's.

"And if the worst happens? If I can't follow you home?" He knows exactly the black despair that comes from a Voice's death. He doesn't know if the way that Alistair is attuned to him is the same, if there would be agony and then bleak nothing, but if so Daylen suspected all of Ferelden would suffer.

[fereldans_king]

"We will handle that when we come to it, Daylen. Based on some of the theories that have come about from the Inquisition's Arcanist, and the Inquistor herself, I'm certain there will be time to discuss and make decisions." Alistair's voice was firm, determined, with a hint of his bullheaded stubbornness to back it up. He raised a hand, and reached out, very slowly and gently, to cup Daylen's cheek in his palm.

The symphony in Alistair's head roared to full volume, and he resisted the urge to close his eyes and examine every nuance of the sounds reverberating through his head. "I have been too alone to be frightened of loneliness....and to be anything but desirous of your love and companionship."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The hand on his cheek made Daylen dizzy in the best way, the relief of touch, of touching his Voice, of Alistair reaching for him, all swirling in a giddy tingle. His eyes dipped closed for a moment, hoping that Alistair could feel all his hope above the worry. Certainly he would still worry, and probably grouse, but in the face of the other man's stubbornness, the determination and the confidence, well it was also possible to hope.

He looked up from under his brows as Alistair spoke, the corner of his mouth quirking wryly. "Love, huh?" His casual tone was a poor mask for the sudden, blistering heat in him, the want, the completely unfamiliar sensation of joy.

He reached up and rested his hand against Alistair's chest, fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his shirt. "There isn't any world in which I wouldn't love you, you know?"

[fereldans_king]

Hope, it seemed, was the high clarion call of a Chantry bell, and joy the firey, victorious sound of a war horn. Alistair's head was filled with glorious noise, and he leaned into the touch of Daylen's hand. If this was the price he would pay having this stubborn, handsome, passionate man by his side, he would gladly pay it ten times over.

"Is there ever a world where I deserve such a gift?" Alistair smiled, and settled his other hand on top of Daylen's, giving it a soft squeeze. After a moment, he grinned, and raised an eyebrow, "Have we had enough announcements of trust and devotion yet?"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The roll of Daylen's eyes was expressive as he snorted his amusement at that last comment. "You ass," he said sweetly, shaking his head. "I see how this is: you've talked me round, romance is over, now off to ravish each other, hmm?"

He reached up his free hand to brush his fingers through the hair at Alistair's temple, pushing the curls back over his ear. He wasn't hesitant to close the distance between them, to take a kiss, he was enjoying the tension, the suspension of desire, letting it stretch and pull.

His thumb brushed below Alistair's ear and he added, "And you deserve so much more than you've been given."

[fereldans_king]

"More honestly, I was wondering if I would have to divine further reasons to talk you round." Alistair's grin, if anything, got wider - he nuzzled the hand that brushed through his hair, shivering slightly at the gentle touches. There was a faint blush to his face as he said, "Though I wouldn't object..."

Alistair moved the hand that had cupped Daylen's face to the back of Daylen's neck, carding fingers through his hair. "And you deserve better than what you were dealt. I guess that we will have to make it up to each other."

(OOC: so, I need to head to bed - obnoxiously early morning. I should be home again around 2pm your time, but hopefully I'll catch some time to respond. *grin* yay for stubborn idiots!)