RP: Daylen (NSFW Ahead)

[fereldans_king]

Alistair came awake briefly during the night (day? how was time even told around here, with no sun to mark the hours?) as something in the castle rumbled, his sense of the ambient magic in the fortress vibrating like a plucked harp string. But the bed was warm and his arms were full of a comfortable, sleeping mage. After a moment, Alistair made up his mind - he maneuvered himself and Daylen under the bed's blankets and drifted back off to sleep.

There were plenty of people out and about in Skyhold who could handle whatever problem that was. Right now, he needed to be here more than he needed to be a hero.

Comments

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

"Bedroom eyes are more or less a given." Daylen's hand stroked lightly down Alistair's bare chest, around to his side, up his ribs. "But I'll save hand-feeding for when we really need to scandalize someone. Say... Eamon. Or someone who's trying to get you to marry their daughter."

There was a prickle of uncertainty at that last statement. Would Alistair eventually marry? If not what would the succession of the kingdom look like? Maker's ass, he really was going to wind up the king's secret lover, wasn't he?

(OOC: no worries at all. I hope things are better today!)

[fereldans_king]

Alistair laughed aloud at the thought of scandalizing Eamon by handfeeding Daylen during a banquet, but the laugh was cut off as he felt a note of concern and worry sing out through the otherwise happy music in his head.

Alistair stroked Daylen's hair, gently scritching the mage's scalp. "Talk to me, love - what's made you concerned now?"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The fingers in Daylen's hair brought a slow coil of heat and pleasure into him. He would shook his head absently. "Just thinking about you having a wife some day." He chuckled softly over the slight twist of vague, directionless jealousy the words dredged up. "Heirs, whatnot."

He laughed again, humor rueful and self-deprecating. "Here we've been together less than two days, we're trapped somewhere far from any grasping nobles with buxom daughters, and I'm worried about sharing you for the good of the realm. I'm ridiculous and you can ignore me." He shifted to slip off Alistair's lap, shaking his head again.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair frowned, and tightened his arms around Daylen to prevent him from slipping away. "Here now..." Alistair used a gentle hand to grip Daylen's chin and lift the mage's face to look him in the eye. "Cousland used to say that even ridiculous worries were worth listening to, because you never knew when that feeling in your gut meant there was something more than simple worry."

Alistair pressed a gentle kiss to Daylen's forehead, and then sat back slightly, loosening his grip to allow Daylen to move away if he wished. "I can't promise that there won't come a time when the question of heirs becomes a relevant issue...but if it makes you feel any more comfortable, Anora has been my designated heir since I took the throne. For all that she's a snake....she will do what is necessary for the country if the situation required that she return to the throne."

Alistair could only imagine a handful of situations where that might be required....and none of them were pleasant to think about. The Calling being the most prevalent, and seeing what it had done to Daylen...Alistair shivered slightly.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

It was weird for reassurances to actually feel reassuring. Daylen let Alistair keep him in his lap, the wry quirk of his mouth not quite a smile, but he felt... gratified at the effort to keep him close. When the grip loosened he leaned forward into Alistair, finding the questions of heirs and marriage less irritating when he was draped across that that much bare skin.

"I trust you to do what's right," he murmured, placing his lips over Alistair's pulse, kissing warmly. And that was true. But what was right was often not personally comfortable. "And I'll let you be my compass, because I foresee a great deal of selfishness in my future where it comes to you." He continued to kiss along Alistair's throat.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair could feel a pulse of arousal begin in the pit of his stomach, and he unconsciously tiled his head to give Daylen better access. Having such little experience with physical affection before this, and being as starved for affectionate touch as he was, he very quickly began to feel flushed and warm. He let out a quiet groan. "Oh, I'm the one making it difficult to leave the room, am I? And you are completely innocent in this endeavor."

Alistair's hands, however, told a different story, as they crept across Daylen's back to gently stroke the mage's spine and brush the soft skin as his waist.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

"I never said anything about being innocent." Daylen scraped his teeth lightly over the edge of Alistair's collarbone and then sat back. "See? Selfish." He studied Alistair's face, eyes trying to dip close as his hands stroked his back.

This was a danger. Being so drunk on contact, on the ability to reach and touch and taste that they would never do anything else. Daylen just wasn't sure what else they should be doing right now. If there were people working on an Eluvian with expertise in manipulating the Fade he would mostly be in the way.

"Should I stop?" he asked seriously, even as his hand smoothed over the hard expanse of Alistair's chest, feeling his own desire resonating and refracting against Alistair's arousal. "We can take a walk. Be respectable. I could see how big of a fire I can start in the yard to burn off some of this Maker-damned... heat."

[fereldans_king]

Alistair leaned forward, resting his head on Daylen's shoulder, simply breathing in the presence of the man in front of him. It would be so easy to forget everything else outside of this room - pretend that all he needed to focus on was Daylen and this growing bond between the two of them. And yet...

"A bath might not be amiss," Alistair admitted reluctantly. The two of them did still have the remnants of their last adventure painted across their torsos...which was dry and flaking in a somewhat itchy manner.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen combed his fingers through Alistair's hair in several long, soothing strokes, and then kissed the crown of his head, before gently untangling himself and sliding out of his lap.

"Right. Bath. I can help with that this time." He moved over to the tub, clenched and then shook out his fingers, and held his hands over the rim. There was the sharp, cold chime of his magic, and a thick layer of ice formed in the tub. He gave it a knock with his knuckles and cast again, easing a hair more mana into it, and just like that the tub was half full.

He turned his head to quirk his eyebrow at Alistiar, full of bemused pleasure and a small amount of pride, mostly gratitude. He brushed his fingers over the rune and set it melting, then heating. "There, aren't you impressed?" he asked with a smirk.

[fereldans_king]

Daylen's magic rolled through the room, smooth and deep and smothering like the sensation of a humid, warm summer day. As soon as the spell broke and the ice formed in the bath, the humid sensation lessen...and with the second spell, the humidity broke entirely. Alistair found himself almost out of breath...it was a heady experience, and very pleasurable.

Alistair smiled back at Daylen, delighted to see Daylen happy with the results of his own spells. "Well, look at you, a regular Master of the Bath." Alistair stood from the bed, and began collecting the towels and soap that had ended up piled slightly haphazardly on the table and one of the chairs. He looked over his shoulder at Daylen, and asked "Did you want to go first?"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen shook his head, gesturing toward the tub that was slowly starting to steam. "You first this time, seems only fair." He went over to take the towels from Alistair, the soap. "I'll even wash your hair."

He gave the larger man a nudge toward the tub. "It's too bad there isn't one big enough for both of us," he mused quietly, lips pursing briefly. There was a fleeting tinge of nostalgia in him, vaguely sad, mostly bittersweet, as he thought about the giant stone tubs in Orzammar, being there with his... former Voice? How was he even supposed to think about them now?

[fereldans_king]

Alistair let Daylen push him towards the bath without any protest, stepping in and settling into it with a hiss of pleasure. The water was the perfect temperature, and Alistair soon found himself relaxing into the water, like a puppet with his strings cut - all loose-limbed and sprawled.

Alistair reaches out a hand towards Daylen, and tries to soothe the bittersweet sadness he could hear in the melody of Daylen's emotions. "I can imagine that we might accidentally drown ourselves in our enthusiasm, if we had access to such things all the time."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen pulled the chair around so that he could sit nearby and with a lopsided grin, lifted a foot and stuck it into the warm water, running it over Alistair's thigh. "It would be a beautiful way to go, don't deny it." He twitched his eyebrows upward suggestively.

He shifted, pulling his foot away, letting it drip on the floor so that he could lean forward and scoop a handful of the hot water and carefully dampening Alistair's hair without letting it run into his eyes. "Please tell me there's something suitable in your palace."

[fereldans_king]

Alistair closed his eyes and sighed happily as Daylen's handful of water ran across his scalp and down his back, damp curls beginning to stick to his temples and the back of his neck.

"I don't know if there is anything like those ginormous stone hot spring baths from Orzammar....but I'm pretty sure there is a suitably expansive claw foot rub somewhere on the premise. I think I asked one of my housekeeps if they intended to make Grey Warden soup with it.." Alistair look faintly embarrassed, though he was grinning. "I didn't mean to upset the poor thing."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Several more handfuls of water followed the first, and Daylen started massaging his fingers into Alistair's scalp, letting warmth rise to his fingertips as he kneaded the muscles at the base of his skull and down his neck. "You don't even know what kind of bathtubs your palace has to offer? Are you washing in a basin like a peasant?"

He tsked softly, gently amused, and finding the motion of his fingers, the feel of Alistair's skin and hair distracting.

[fereldans_king]

"I..." Alistair shook his head very softly, to avoid dislodging Daylen's hands. The mage's touch was warm and gentle and slowly turning him into a relaxed puddle of mush. "I try not to bother anyone more than I must. I know we have several generously appointed tubs but...I'd gotten used to stream. Or a bucket. Or if I was lucky, a hip bath in one of the less skeevy inns. It seemed like a waste, to ask everyone to stop what they were doing just to fill a bathtub that could have drown a man."

Alistair stole the soap from where Daylen had placed it, and the wash cloth, before starting the process of soaping himself, beginning with his feet.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

"Hm." There was a swell of tender affection in Daylen, even at the vaguely disapproving grunt. "Well, if I fill it and happen to be in it, I hope you won't consider that a waste." He kept trailing small flickers of heat and healing magic into Alistair's shoulders even as he sat forward to wash, running his hands over the developed muscles of his back.

"I promise I won't go demanding outrageous things from your servants just to spoil you."

[fereldans_king]

"No!" Alistair looked up at Daylen, a slightly self-concious look on his face. "No, of course you'd be welcome to...You deserve the chance to enjoy such luxuries, I just..." Alistair made a face, and breathed in to calm the torrent of babble threatening to spill forth. He rinsed his feet and lower legs, and began soaping his thighs.

"I spent how long trying to pretend I wasn't worth all the fuss that people would create over me being Maric's bastard? It's a hard mindset to break."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

Daylen's hands stilled and he gave a soft sigh. "Hey it's fine. You don't have to explain to me. You could wash in the horse trough and I'd still love you." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Alistair's shoulder where the soap hadn't reached yet.

"But I'm going to be around to remind you to take a little for yourself, okay?" He scritched his fingers in the wet curls at Alistair’s neck. "I'm going to fuss and it won't be because you're Maric's bastard." It would be out of love and shared pleasure and a knot of unacknowledged guilt that Daylen was excellent at ignoring.

[fereldans_king]

Alistair, covered in soap suds and a thoughtful expression on his face, leaned his head into Daylen's gentle scritching. His eyes closed in quiet enjoyment of Daylen's closeness, his love. This unending stream of affection was so unfamiliar, so unexpected given the situation they had found themselves in. Alistair felt something fiercely protective rise in his chest, to make sure that Daylen was always around to make good on his promises.

Alistair reached out along the bond, wanting to share that fiery feeling of love and trust and protectiveness with Daylen - he wwasn't sure he'd be able to put it to words without losing something in his tendency to babble. The music of Daylen's emotions resonated with similar emotions...with the exception of a tiny mournful dissonant note that Alistair couldn't quite identify. Not sadness, not frustration...oh.

Alistair looked up at Daylen, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. Of course, Daylen felt guilty about their situation. After all, he had been here before, once.

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

The wash of Alistair's emotions as he pushed a little made Daylen's breath catch, his eyes half-lidding as they unfocused slightly. It made the vague disquiet, or guilt, or the sense that he'd lost this precious gift once and certainly didn't deserve it again, ease a little.

He blinked at the sorrow in Alistair's eyes, and frowned faintly, shaking his head. "Don't mind me. Baggage. Remember, broken down mule and all?" His half-smile was a little sardonic and he stole the soap back, along with the cloth to begin scrubbing Alistair's back.

He was thoughtful, silent, as he hesitated to explain the little threads of worry that Alistair was surely feeling at this point. That would get messy, when all that was important was warmth and affection and the physical indulgence of letting his fingers trace the strong lines of Alistair's shoulders as he washed him.

So, Daylen changed the subject. "What was Cousland's mabari named?" To something stupid. He flushed, shaking his head at himself. Idiot. He rinsed the cloth and started using it, sopping full of hot water to wash the soap from Alistair's back.

[fereldans_king]

"You're not broken.." Alistair protested softly, but he didn't push. He enjoyed the scrub of the soap and the wash cloth, and sighed in pleasure as hot water washed over his back.

Alistair chuckled at Daylen's question. "Lyon, of all things. He insisted that he looked like one of those gaudy Orlesian lion statues, though I certainly never saw it." He looked up at Daylen, curisoity naked on his face. "What did you name yours? You did have one, right? Can't have a Hero of Fereldan without their faithful mabari, it seems."

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

"An Orlesian name for a Fereldan dog? Seems kind of heretical." Daylen shook his head, tutting softly. "Of course, my family was from the Free Marches and until Duncan came to the Tower the only thing I remember seeing of Ferelden was the lake from the windows."

He started working soap into Alistair's hair. "Here, tip back." He was careful with the drips so nothing ran forward into Alistair's face. "My mabari's name was Elric. After some warrior prince of the Avvar that I'd read about." There was a deep ripple of sadness that eased to something faded and familiar. "He was a good dog."

[fereldans_king]

"Cousland is a vocal supporter of Orlesian things. Fighting styles, paintings, Orlesian Wardens...He was..is noble man with big dreams, far beyond our home's borders." Alistair barely caught the slip in tense, but forged onward. When Alistair had left Denerim for his visit to Skyhold, he hadn't heard from his friend in over half a year - even the last missive he'd received had been little more than 'Still alive, to dangerous, don't come looking for me.' He hoped, with a tiny, sinking feeling in his gut, that Cousland was even still alive.

"I'm sure he was every bit as wonderful and slobbery as Lyon was. Did he dig up strange things for you too?"

[daylen_amell_fadewalk]

"Oh yes. Old bones, old boots, Oghren's underwear once. I preferred the genlock hand I found on my pillow, honestly." Daylen finished rinsing the soap from Alistair's hair and leaned in to give him a hug around the neck.

"Cousland sounds like a right ass, by the way. His love of ponce and circumstance just adds to that image. I mean, I'm sure he's a wonderful man." He nuzzled up against Alistair's ear and then leaned back again. "I bet he'll hate me. It'll be grand."

Daylen grinned, ducking his head, concern underneath the fond teasing he felt. He didn't want Alistair to worry about Cousland, he didn't want him to ever worry about anything if Daylen could help it.