My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  It wasn't the stablehand that stood there but the King. He took a knee and had both arms locked around the mabari slobbering in his face. They weren't wrestling or fighting for dominance, the man clearly losing that battle as he hugged tight to the dog before snatching onto the royal collar and trying to tug him back into the kennel.

  "Ser, I..." the blush amplified as she glanced over at her armor cast off without any care. Karelle would probably succumb to the vapors if she saw how ill Reiss treated it.

  Not noticing, or caring, Alistair shooed the dog back inside the kennel proper and shut the door. "Now, get back inside, you know how it goes," he chuckled at the face begging for his master's love and affection. Maker's sake, Reiss felt her cheeks burning at the thought that she looked the same.

  After closing the dog's pen proper, he grabbed a bundle of wire and wound it between the door and the wall. "This one's learned how to get out and has apparently sired quite a few litters on the side. Not just with mabari either. We're going to have some dangerously smart lap dogs in a few months." He chuckled at the dog plopping onto his hindquarters with that 'it wasn't me' look upon his drooling face.

  "You, uh, are you here for the dogs?" Reiss froze in her steps as the golden light pinging through the slots in the kennel laced upon his brow. It highlighted the rare streak of red mixed in with all that gold as he smiled upon her.

  "No, not exactly I...came to find you," he glanced up at her with the end of the sentence, a strange guilt hanging in the words.

  "Oh, of course, do you require me back in uniform?" she tried to be professional even while her heart hoped he'd tell her no. But then what? What would she say to him? What would her answer be? Maker's breath, would there even be a question?

  "It's uh," his eyes danced down her body swaddled in cheap fabric before a blush rampaged up those pale cheeks. "It's nice to see you out of uniform."

  "Ah," now it was her turn to melt into a puddle, her hand digging into her shoulder as she found the sunspots on the ceiling fascinating. After steadying herself a moment she glanced over at him. While he wasn't going to make any Orlesian's jealous, the King usually dressed respectably with vests and the occasional elbow knot to fluff up shoulders. But while on the mend he seemed to prefer the comfort of simple tunics, this one a striking cobalt blue that somehow drew out the playful umber in his eyes. It was far finer than Reiss' with no doubt real sliver buttons, but the lack of frippery made her feel more at ease.

  "I came here to check on my cat," she stated the fact while pointing at Sylaise who hadn't moved an inch during the commotion.

  Alistair followed her gesture and smiled, "Seems she's doing well. Got that cat 'I'm above you all' image down pat."

  "Perhaps, but..." Reiss shifted on her bare toes feeling idiotic even as she finished her thought, "I would like to check on her. Maker certain her fur is in shape and she's eating properly."

  He smiled warmly at that instead of pointing out how Sylaise was a blighted alley cat that was surviving just fine until she came along. "Don't let me stop you."

  Reiss nodded and shaking off her blush, climbed up the ladder into the loft. He followed behind, a hand gripping onto the end as if to steady it, while she felt his eyes wandering across her flat backside. Struggling to not apologize for it, Reiss had to drop to a knee against the low ceiling. "Come here, kitty," she cooed to Sylaise who gave her one look but that was it.

  "I have treats," Reiss said, thrusting out a handful of the shredded roast she borrowed from Renata.

  For a brief second Sylaise lifted her head at that before flopping it back down. "I get it, you're mad at me for vanishing for so long. It's..." Reiss tried to not glance down at her boss who'd been the reason for her disappearance, "it's my fault. But I promise I can make up for it." Slowly, Reiss scooted a few steps forward upon her knees.

  That got the cat's attention as she lifted to her own nimble feet and watched the curious elf coming for her. "Sylaise, you stay put," Reiss threatened. "Here, food, you like that," she tried again, thrusting her hand out for the tiny fangs to bite down on. But Sylaise was in the mood to punish her. Spinning around, the cat began to scamper a few steps away from the advancing elf, but paused from truly leaving to glare at her with an ultimatum: What will you do now?

  "Ser, could you?" she tried to gesture to the lone ladder but it rested behind her. What use could he be?

  "Want me to flank the cat?" he laughed, sliding under the overhang. Sounds of rummaging and rearranging furniture burst from below and Reiss tried to peer over, but she caught Sylaise watching her.

  "Don't even think of jumping down," she ordered.

  "Got it," Alistair called as he unearthed a ladder that hooked upon the other edge of the loft. It dangled precariously but he gave it no mind, quickly scurrying up to plop upon the loft. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty..." he called while sliding nearer to the very curious Sylaise.

  Reiss renewed her efforts, waving her food offering hand out and trying, "Pus, here pus pus, tasty tasty meat. The best."

  With her tail lifted, Sylaise glanced first at the elf to her left, then the human on her right. Reiss was close enough she could almost reach out and fluff up the fur. Just a little bit further to grab her and... Not caring about her concern, the cat hopped off the ledge so suddenly Reiss' heart dropped to her stomach. Gripping onto the edge, her meat rained upon the dogs below as she peered down at the unimpressed yellow eyes perched upon the narrow sill of the kennel wall.

  Maker's sake, it's a cat, Reiss. They can handle a jump that short. She hung her head off the edge, trying to suck in common sense when a warm hand smoothed over her back. It drew forth such a cocoon of comfort, Reiss didn't respond, only lay there wishing it would never stop.

  "You okay?"

  "Yes," she pinched the bridge of her nose and sat up, Alistair's fingers falling away from her. "I...I am being foolish. Which is not anything new."

  "I bet I can out fool you," he said, sitting back upon his haunches. The ceiling was so close, his head skimmed dangerously near the beams but his eyes were only upon her.

  "That may be an unwise bet to take," Reiss said. "I once adopted a small turtle in the harbor when I was supposed to be gutting fish. Kept it with me in a box on the docks, fed it slips of greens I found, and one day it fell into the water. Which I then leaped into, to save a turtle, that can swim."

  "There was this fancy pants, I mean we're talking gilded knickers kind of fancy pants gala up in the north somewhere. Maybe Cumberland. Not important," he waved his hands through the air as the story grew more animated. "I'm greeting, smiling, nodding, waving, all that kingly stuff, and the Grand Cleric approaches me. Not a huge deal, I've dealt with the one back at home plenty of times but this woman... You ever wonder what it'd look like if you gave a horse a lemon? That'd be her face, so gaunt and pinched it was as if someone literally sucked all the joy from her. I bend down to bow and be a good benedicting Andrastian when the most obnoxious gas parts through my back half."

  "Maker's sake!" she giggled, her hand trying to hide away the smile at his misfortune.

  "That's what I shouted, as well as a few quick ramblings about how the bean and bean dinners for the past few days may have been overkill on my digestion bits. But the best part, the coup de tart as it were, standing directly behind me the whole time was the Lord Chancellor of Tantervale. Who, turns out, is an even stricter Andrastian than the damn Grand Cleric."

  "Oh no," Reiss mused, her fingers reaching out in empathy to curl over his arm.

  "They had me reciting the chant of light while balancing a book on my head for days."

  She couldn't stop squeezing against the taut muscle seeming to flex below her hand while sighing, "Truly? They forced a King to do it?"

  "I dared to demean the Maker's Bride with my bodily functions. I'm lucky they didn't make me strip naked and crawl through a fire ant nest or something." He laughed at the very idea, fingers that looked as if they ached to troll his hair flexing at the side. Ma
ker's breath, she shouldn't be touching him, thinking of holding him, wanting to... Reiss felt the blush beginning up her gut as it always did when she'd stumble across a bawdy joke or dirty book. With any heavily involved and descriptive romantic type scene in a book, she'd lay it upon the bed at arm's lengthy, prepared to drop a pillow over it if it grew too overwhelming. Lunet, of course, found the image hilarious and kept waiting to see if Reiss could finish reading the blighted thing.

  And now her bare toes curled up as her eyes traveled down Alistair's sunny and handsome face, across the broad shoulders she feared would be her undoing, until noticing that either due to the stance or the lack of a longer tunic, his trousers appeared to be tighter than usual. The tug highlighted the bulge she should not be staring intently at. Oh Maker.

  Blushing as if she was under her own fever, Reiss glanced down at Sylaise, who'd swished her tail a few times and moved deeper to curl on top of one of the pooches. Calm down. Deep breaths. Don't pass out. You'd probably tumble off the edge and break your nose for a second time. At the rate she was going her face would be unrecognizable by the age of forty.

  "Am I, uh, keeping you from your duties?"

  "I'm keeping me far far from them," he snickered.

  Reiss didn't glance back, but she kept clinging to that arm, savoring the swell of the muscle as he rolled his fingers back and forth over the floor. "I mean whatever you came here to do. Tend to the dogs or...play with them."

  "Ah," from the side of her eyes, she watched his head hang down as he struggled for a thought, "actually, I came to find you. To talk, which I should have done days, no -- weeks ago."

  "I've also been needing to talk to you," she fumbled into her pocket searching for the scrap of paper to prove that he'd been poisoned. Whether on accident or not, it was a disgrace upon her either way. Reiss scurried away from the edge, her hand falling off him, as she sat upon her knees and unfolded it.

  "What's, uh? Is this one of those pirate black spot things?" he half laughed while staring at the water stains trembling in her fingers.

  "I have reason to believe that one or more of the alchemists assigned to you, people that passed me, may have been trying to poison you," she swallowed down a guilty lump and tried to hand the paper over. It thudded into Alistair's suddenly crossed arms, crumpling up at the edge. "Ser, it's..."

  "Not important," he said, "well, okay, give your findings to Harding and she'll get on it, but..." reaching forward, his palm cupped against her cheek. How easily it wrapped around her, warmth enticing her to lean into it, "I...Maker's breath, you'd think this would get easier with time. Everyone else is so blasted good at it but me? I'm nothing but all thumbs and left feet. Sorry. Uh. Ahem, I have a passing, more than a passing interest in you. I find myself caring about you, a lot. And, I've been wondering, stewing about, jotting your name down a few hundred times while pretending to listen to Eamon's droning if... Well, uh, do you like me too?"

  Her eyes darted down to the parchment crumpled in her fist holding the proof she could have gotten him killed if not for the Lady Amell, and he didn't care. No, he was asking in an endearing way if she could feel anything for him as if it wasn't obvious to any and all. Reiss stuttered, struggling to think of something poetic and romantic, or at least coherent, but as she lost herself in his pleading eyes all she could manage was an, "Uh huh," her head nodding his hand up and down.

  A smile broke across that handsome jawline, his dimple indenting deep to the core from the force and Reiss felt all common sense in her brain vanish into smoke. Dashing forward, she wrapped both hands back through his soft strawberry hair and tugged those sunny lips to hers. Alistair was quick to follow her lead, his hand planted firmly on her cheek as she plied him with every burning kiss that'd been floating through her imagination. Moaning at her incessant lips, needing and begging for him, he opened his mouth to let her tongue find his. While their mouths attempted their own idea of sparring, his hand lifted up from her cheek to gently cup her ear. Slowly, his fingers scaled the heights, almost tickling the tender flesh. When he was about to reach the tip, still covered in scar tissue, he paused.

  Reiss froze, a million fears running through her mind. Did he just realize she was an elf? That this would be unheard of? Unseemly? Unwarranted? Or was it the realization that she was a bundle of scar tissue molded and healed into what managed to be a person before him.

  Unaware of her mental torment, even as his lips slipped to her cheek, both of Alistair's hands reached behind her head to tousle through the bun. With a quick yank, he dislodged the dagger she kept pinned tight in there. It was enough to destroy the scaffolding and her hair collapsed across her shoulders, the waves easily blending in with the straw scattered beside them. His eyes shut, he softly combed his fingers through her hair, following it from the roots all the way to the tip, before returning again.

  Reiss felt she should say something, maybe explain her choice in hair styles, but her tongue fell slack and the entirety of her body hummed just from the gentle tug of a man's fingers combing her hair. Blessed Andraste! Diving towards him, Reiss kissed with a ferocity building up through her loins. The force caught Alistair off guard and he tumbled backwards, landing with a pained chuckle at the woman attempting to devour him. She paused a moment, her hands spread out upon the ground from taking the fall, before quickly shifting her weight to splay out on top of him and returning for a kiss.

  Not just any kiss, her lips darted down his chiseled jawline, savoring the scratch of the stubble against them as she worked her way up to his round ears. Nibbling the lobe gently against her teeth, Alistair moaned when her hot breath shot out through her nose -- amplifying the bulge she felt against her stomach, begging to be loosed from his trousers.

  "Maker's sake, don't stop," his voice rumbled from deep in his chest, dropping like a rock down a well. While Reiss worked upward, nipping and cresting her teeth upon the outer ear, his hands climbed up to circle her waist. At first over her baggy tunic, he found the edge of the hem and let those smoldering fingers rake across her bare skin.

  "Sweet Andraste," she groaned, lifting her head away so she didn't scream in his ear. Below her thighs pinning tight to his abdomen, she felt Alistair laugh at her reaction. One hand rose up from under her shirt to lay against her cheek and guide her lips back to his.

  Invigorated by the invitation, Reiss yearned to tug off the shirt clinging to his body, to dart her nails across the skin, fluff up that knot of chest hair and see if it was as soft as it looked. And, most important of all, to grip onto his naked shoulders, savoring every tug of muscle and tendon below while he... A low humming began in the back of her throat at the idea, at the thought of any and all of it.

  It must have thrown him off, as Alistair opened an eye to watch her trying to not collapse and explode at the same time. "Are you okay?"

  "Mhm," she nodded vigorously, trying to bite down on the humming. "It's, that noise is something I do when I'm...uh, enjoying myself," she was terrified that he'd laugh at her or find it disturbing enough to kick her off.

  "That's good to know," an ecstatic smile filled his gorgeous face, "a goal to strive for."

  Reiss couldn't shake the blush at him finding out, him knowing her weird quirk, and him...liking it? Wanting it? It was both embarrassing beyond measure and exhilarating. Would it kill her emotions to make sense just for once?

  "Do you..." placing her weight onto one hand, she carefully trailed her fingers down his shirt fallen flat enough she could spot the taut silhouette of his body below, "do you wish to continue?"

  "Here?" he started, lifting his head off the ground no doubt to check for any bystanders, but all that hounded them for once were sleeping mabari. Reiss' regret returned immediately, tendrils snapping around her body like the linens for the undead. How dare she try to bed the King of Ferelden in a creaking and straw encrusted kennel. She began to slide away when Alistair grabbed both his hands around her cheeks and declared, "Maker's sake, yes!"

  Having shoute
d his ecstatic consent loud enough a few dogs stirred in their sleep, he tugged Reiss down to resume the kissing. A pain knotted in her wrist from pushing against the wooden slats of the rickety floor while Alistair's hands embarked upon their climb up her midsection. He circled tantalizingly around her ribs, growing ever closer to her breasts but never quite reaching high enough. Suddenly, he reined in his kisses to focus his vision upon her chest -- in particular the top as his fingers worked to unknot the first button.

  This was really happening. Right here, right now and not part of a dream. Probably. Hopefully. Maker, Reiss groaned to herself as those strong fingers worked apart one button and moved to the next, if this is a dream let it last to the end. By the third, Alistair stumbled, the edges of the shirt slipping away from his cautious grip when Reiss adjusted her knees.

  "Forget it, I'm terrible at buttons anyway," he mused to himself while grabbing onto the collar of her tunic and tugging it upward. As Reiss slid out of the the shirt, she felt a warm summer breeze drift across her exposed shoulders and upper back, while Alistair's heady gaze darted across all her skin.

  Welp, time for the moment of truth as it were. Rising up away from him, Reiss balanced upon her knees, straddling even closer to his hips. With both hands she grabbed onto the tighter undershirt and, closing her eyes, yanked it off in one quick go. Fully shirtless before the King of Ferelden, she feared to take a peek for what she'd find. It was impossible for her to not know that in the game of voluptuousness Reiss had at best half an apple to bring to the party. When they first sprouted the boys in the village would call them Forgets because they were so small as to be forgettable. In general, children aren't all that creative with their cruelty.

  Trying to not tremble while so exposed, she opened one eye as a warm hand caressed the skin on her stomach. His eyes widened almost beyond the face, the knot in his throat bobbing as he glanced up and down her nakedness. "They're, uh..." she wanted to explain as if she had any control over it, or apologize as if she should, but he cut her off.