My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

His dick in full salute, Alistair stood upon his knees staring down at her. Rain beaded up in her tuft of blonde pubic hair, each drop seeming to whisper a quick hello before rolling down towards where he ached for. Too lost in the view, Alistair didn't realize Reiss hooked her legs back around his ass, until she sat up to kiss him.

  "Fuck me," Alistair gasped in shock as he tumbled back to land on his butt, Reiss taking the high ground.

  Groaning, she rolled her eyes, "That's what I'm trying to do."

  As his hands slid up to cover her breasts, she straddled his dick and slowly dropped down onto it. "Sweet merciful Andraste!" Alistair gasped, lost in every delectable twist and turn inside of her. Her very warm, so damn intoxicating inside bits.

  Reiss smiled, her tongue lapping along her lips to lick up a raindrop as her eyes caught his. She was being daring, about to drive him wild, when Alistair softly pinched into her nipples. That threw his love off, her straining thighs shaking a moment as she almost tumbled forward. Her hot breath buffeted into his ear, gasping to come back, when she whispered, "Do it again."

  Happy to oblige, Alistair gave into her wild whims as she rose up higher and began to thrust onto him. Maker's balls. Shit, his balls. It was slow at first, taking the time to enjoy every minute moment sliding deeper and shallower through this woman. His lips wandered, first to hers, then down her chest. When he kissed her nipple, she moaned.

  Reiss gripped onto the nape of his neck and began to lean backwards. With her throat buzzing, her tempo increased dramatically, all that gorgeous flesh enveloping his. Alistair gripped onto her back with one hand and reached in between them with the other. Gently at first, he rubbed invigorating circles over the top of her clit.

  "Dear Maker," Reiss moaned, her legs beginning to tremble on top of his. He dug his fingers into her spine, afraid she might suddenly slip while Alistair kept teasing her with his fingers. A breath caught in her throat, her eyelids fluttering as she rocked her hips back and forth over him. Gasping, her fingernails dug tight as he watched her face twist up into a joyous release. Her vagina pulsed around his dick, hugging it tighter as the orgasm walloped her body. When she began to pitch backwards, Alistair grabbed on with both arms.

  Her eyes slid open and she had the goofiest smile on as if he told her the worst joke imaginable. Slowly, he tipped downward with her, making certain to not break anything. As her body touched down on the blanket, Alistair kissed the tip of her nose. Reiss wiggled it a bit, and with an envious dexterity tugged her leg up to her chest. The breath was about to pass out of his body from the visual, when she slid it in between his legs.

  What was...? Oh shit.

  When her other leg joined the first, Alistair braced himself and thrusted his hips to delve deep inside. It was so tight, her wet warmth suckered against his dick and he swore it was tightening with every thrust. He screwed his eyes up, struggling to keep going even as white spots burned at the edges. Reiss' wandering hands gripped onto his shoulders, her voice crying for something as she tried to yank him deeper inside.

  With one final push, Alistair thrusted as far as he could when the cascade began. "Dear ss...nakes!" his brain was incoherent, words tumbling from his mouth while he was lost in the tremors ransacking his body, his cum pumping up through his dick into her.

  Reiss' eyes popped open and she smiled, "Snakes?"

  "Can't think, too...thing," he waved a hand through the air, but had to replace it fast for fear he'd fall on top of her.

  "Ridden hard and put away wet?" she snickered, an eyebrow quirked up.

  "Maker's breath," he unhitched himself from the deadly Snow Dragon trap and then cuddled above her, "more than you can imagine." Her bright eyes stared up at him, Reiss' hair scattered across the blanket like a ball of golden thread the cat got into. Chuckling to himself at the idea, Alistair leaned down to kiss her when a shaft of sunlight illuminated the side of her face.

  Sure enough, he twisted his head up to find the rain had not only stopped but those wicked clouds already blew on to ruin someone else's picnic. He was about to laugh, point out his terrible luck, when he stopped and sighed to himself. Maybe the rain was trying to do him a favor instead. Curling a hand along the beautiful and very naked woman's waist, Alistair smiled. It was a good favor.

  "What's running through your mind, now?" Reiss asked, her eyebrows meeting in the middle.

  "That I owe the rain my gratitude," he breathed before sliding onto his side. The blanket was soaked, as was the ground, and no doubt their clothes. He could, probably should hang them up to dry, but instead he cupped his body against Reiss'. She remained upon her back, her fingers flitting through his hair while Alistair wrapped one arm under her head and the other across her chest. It was tempting to bury his head in her chest but he settled for the shoulder instead.

  They lay like that, silently breathing each other in, Reiss fingers tugging apart his hair, Alistair pressing his lips to the goosebumps rising up her skin. With the rains passed, the birds resumed their happy singing -- each one doing his best to find some lovely lady bird to settle down with and make a few cute eggs. Just as they had, just as they would.

  "We're going to have a baby," Alistair whispered. He hated to admit it, but he kept pinching himself for fear this was all a trick of the fade. That it could vanish in the night if he wasn't careful. They hadn't told anyone, well, he hadn't. Which meant a lot of people in the castle would catch their King grinning stupidly while staring out the window and wonder if he'd finally lost what few marbles he began with.

  His fingers skirted down past Reiss' cleavage to cup against her stomach that wasn't showing any signs save that she ate a good pile of cheese with him. A smile lifted up her cheeks and she cuddled her hand behind his. "Yup," she sighed, "it's in there doing whatever babies do at this stage."

  "Eat, grow, eat some more," Alistair shrugged. "That's pretty much all they do for the first three months or so once they're out too." He felt her eye rolling towards him, and he smiled, "But they're cute while doing it."

  Reiss settled back, her free hand cushioning her mess of hair, but the other clung to him holding her. "Are you at all worried about people stumbling across their King naked in the meadow with an elf?"

  "Not really," he admitted. Maybe in his younger days he'd have scrabbled for pants, but as long as no swarm of angry hornets came for him, he didn't care. Alistair didn't want to leave this beautiful picture of his body wrapped around the woman he loved, fresh from rutting around in the wildflower strewn meadow, with skin dewey from rain.

  Reiss snuggled closer, her cheek brushing up against his nose as she whispered, "Good. I suppose we should begin doing typical baby things. Weigh names and such?"

  "Mordock the destroyer."

  "Mordock...?"

  "The destroyer, got to have the last bit otherwise what's the point?" Alistair said with dead certainty in his voice.

  He could feel her eyes trying to peel away the sarcasm, but she merely shrugged, "Is this for a boy or...?"

  "Doesn't matter. Boy or girl, destroying's rather universal."

  "I guess I should start a list then," Reiss kept on playing with him, as if she considered his ramblings serious.

  Sliding up to an elbow, Alistair stared down at her face. It took a moment before she opened her eyes, braving the sun to smile up at him. When Reiss drew her fingers against his cheek, a hint of a blush bloomed to turn his white whiskers rose colored. Alistair turned to try and hide the burst of emotion as he placed his lips against her palm.

  "I love you," he murmured, feeling like a foolish twenty year old confessing things he barely understood.

  Reiss lifted her head until their noses bounced into each other. Those vast green fields that never faded due to winter's touch danced across his face. Curling him to her, she whispered, "I love you too, Mordock the destroyer senior." Before he could laugh, she kissed him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Made in Love

  15 weeks...

  Lana steadied h
er steps, instantly drawing the attention of the woman beside her. It was a simple matter, her cane sliding into a divot in the floor, but... "Leliana," she breathed, rearranging the tie in her curls and casting an eye to the side, "you look as if you're about to catch me in a swan dive."

  "That would be impressive," her old friend breathed in a chuckle before shaking it off. She'd abandoned the costume of the Divine, but the office never fully left her. While her visit was under the delusion that the chantry cared greatly about the backwater ministrations for their old templars, most saw through it. Leliana's trips into the wilds of the Hinterlands grew less and less over the years, leaving Lana to come to her. But, given her current state, traveling was out of the question.

  "How are you feeling?" Leliana asked, switching tactics.

  "Exhausted," they paced back and forth through the second floor overlooking the courtyard, Lana needing to walk and her friend following her. It was harder for ears to overhear if they kept moving. "I thought I was tired before, but now..." she gestured towards her midsection where an obvious bulge rounded out her robes. All of her dresses were far too tight now, a fact that seemed to occur overnight. One day she was normal, and the next her waist vanished and a balloon set up shop under her ribcage.

  "Should I tell you you're beautiful to calm your nerves?" Leliana said, her bright blue eyes always sparkling with a whisper of mischief.

  "No," Lana admitted, "I feel bloated like a ten day old corpse with feet that have already swollen beyond my slippers, but my ego remains more or less in tact. I've been consulting with a few others on what to expect but none could prepare me for how alien my body would feel to myself. Three decades in this skin and I had no concept it was capable of this!"

  Leliana chuckled at her whining, the 'virginal' Divine shaking her bright red hair by afternoon light.

  "Do not laugh at this, or you'll find yourself in the same boat. The Maker's cruel like that."

  "That would be a true miracle," the Divine mused. "Though I wonder how the Grand Clerics would react to the voice of Andraste requiring her robes to be let out."

  She mimicked her stomach expanding, but that wasn't Lana's current problem. A rounded gut she anticipated, but this... "That's far from my greater concern." Holding up her hands, she cupped those nourishing breasts that went from politely straining against her collar to all but ripping it off. "I had no Maker given idea that these things could grow so large. As if my back weren't killing me before."

  Leliana's eyes darted down to the breasts that were now inside a door a good foot before Lana was. She coughed a moment, then said, "It must be a delight for Cullen, at least." Lana merely rolled her eyes. "How is he dealing with this?"

  "He's being cautious, as he always acts when uncertain about things. Which means he won't let me in on how he really feels out of fear of disappointing me. I don't know, I think he fears the same as I do. There's a great chance that the taint's already passed to this child and...and even if it survives to the birthing process, it could," Lana sagged against the banister wall, the cold of the stone biting into her hip.

  "Lanny," Leliana rubbed her arm up and down, concern marring that still porcelain visage.

  Screwing her eyes up, she confessed, "I'm afraid of it dying in my arms. Of growing so attached that my heart breaks from so much hope dashed in an instant." Lana shook her head, trying to wick away the tears before the Spymaster noticed. "I have no idea what will come of this and it's...unnerving."

  "It's a baby, your baby, made in love," Leliana, the romantic, said.

  Love and also some complicated rope play, if Lana could guess the time of conception right. People tended to get all sentimental and weepy over the idea of a baby while conveniently forgetting the parts that went into making one. Being raised in the tower where sex carried little shame, it was a bit strange for her to try to delve into others experiences with birth. The language was far more flowery than the woman searching for concrete examples hoped for.

  Lana started upon finding her palm swooped over her bulging abdomen. She was doing that often when a thought trailed off from her, as if on instinct. Shaking off her dreamy mind, Lana cut back with, "Love can't cure the taint. If it did Antiva would never have suffered under a blight."

  That caused her friend to chuckle, "Quite. I dare say Zevran could have prevented ten or twelve outbreaks all on his own."

  "How is he?" Lana glanced over, happy to turn the focus back on her friend.

  "Why in Andraste's Grace would I know?" she feigned confusion, but Lana knew her too well.

  "Because word is a certain dashing blonde elf was seen zipping in and out of Val Royeaux far more than seemed necessary. And always at night."

  Leliana gruffed, her calm mask slipping, "There are plenty of things I can do with an assassin."

  "Indeed," Lana agreed, "On top, below, from behind." As a hint of a blush ripened the ice white cheeks of the Divine, Lana nudged into her with her shoulder, "Are you certain you won't have to concern yourself with letting your robes out?"

  "Yes, that matter is kept well in hand, thank you." She raced to change the subject quickly, "I imagine we won't be seeing you nor the Commander in society for sometime."

  "Highly unlikely. He's been given a handy excuse to avoid it all and I'd prefer to not have to resign myself to chasing after a toddler through Celene's palaces," Lana chuckled at the image, then froze. Curling a hand tight to her stomach, she sighed, "There I go again, thinking this will all work out. That I'll somehow have a child of my own."

  "Perhaps you will. After all, you're the luckiest woman I've ever known. Married to the luckiest man as well. How many thedas shattering catastrophes have you two walked away from?"

  Lana glanced over the courtyard watching as her daily life shuffled on without her. She'd had to cut back more and more on work as the exhaustion of creating a new person took its toll on her already depleted body. Yes, both she and Cullen emerged from the heat of war but neither did it unscathed. It was hard to guess what an effect that would have upon her, or him, if the child even did survive.

  "Lanny," Leliana circled her hand along her shoulders, cushioning her in a comforting hug. "What's truly getting to you? The baby, I understand, but I get the feeling there's more being buried below all that."

  Spinning her fingers, blue flame erupted off the four tips pinched together. "I'm a mage."

  "You're concerned the baby would be as well?" Leliana summarized.

  "It's a good possibility. There's no magic in Cullen's line, though it never takes much. But that's not it." Lana shook off the spell and began to ease her way along the battlements. It felt good for her to move, as little as she could some days. Her legs felt wobbly and her hips like soggy pasta if she remained seated for too long.

  "In the Circle, any mage that found herself in my same predicament had two options: flee and pray you get far enough before the templars track you down to birth your child, or know it would be taken from you the moment it emerged. It's foolish, I know the Circles are gone, but I am surrounded by many templars. Some fears don't easily fade," she folded in on herself, clinging tighter to this part of her and him she both feared and wanted to keep.

  "Is that the part you're being 'cautious' about with Cullen?" Leliana asked.

  It drove so quickly to the heart, Lana gasped, staring at her friend. "We don't talk about the Circles, the past. It...being on the opposite sides before doesn't help now. I'm not certain if I could even explain it."

  She felt a fool every time it gripped tight to her. At first Lana was more or less indifferent to the life squatting inside of her. It caused some harm, smells in particular driving her up the wall, but was forgettable at times too. Then her stomach popped out; the baby going from an intellectual curiosity to a real possibility. She hadn't even considered what the templars surrounding them would think until every eye noticed the bulge under her robes. Would someone say something? Do something? They'd all been polite and respectful about her pretending to
not be a mage, but many knew.

  Maker's breath, it was stupid.

  This isn't a Circle.

  "You want it, don't you?" Leliana whispered, her sweet voice invading Lana's thoughts.

  Softly she bobbed her head. "I do. I never imagined children, never wondered what kind of a mother I'd be because...all my life it was never going to happen, and now..." Lana's eyes trailed down to find her husband digging a pitchfork deep into the straw to try and freshen the horse's beds. A single baby goat was giving him pains, leaping about on its fresh legs like they were made of springs and bleating. Her husband looked annoyed beyond measure, an obvious flush to his forehead and cheeks from the exertion. But when the kid leaped onto the pile, Cullen -- her powerful and sometimes terrifying templar -- bent over and scratched the baby's floppy ears.

  "You should tell him," Leliana said, "that you're excited. Be excited, enjoy this gift from the Maker. I know all children are called that, but in this case I'd say it was sent special delivery by Andraste herself."

  Nodding at her friend, Lana returned to staring at her husband. He tried shooing the goat away, who bleated once more, kicked up its heels and then dashed to its mother's side. Barely shaking his head at the reunion, Cullen returned to the grueling work he'd been forced to pick up the slack on. Everything was going to change, one way or another. Perhaps it was time to embrace that fact.

  With a hand securing her stomach, Lana nodded, "I think you're right."

  ***

  A pot of 'we cleaned out the larder and called it surprise soup' bubbled over the hearth. Lana tried to not watch too closely as their cook occasionally fussed with it before returning to her book. It was less the not wanting to be caught hovering over her shoulder that drew Lana's attention away and more that she recognized the cover. The woman was engrossed in the erotic tales of the Hero of Ferelden as this mythical woman seemed to bed and fight everything across thedas. Funny enough, the description of her sounded more like Hawke if her cousin had red hair, pale skin and wasn't helplessly devoted to an abomination.