driftfleet | 1st Chant - Just Like Home

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1st Chant - Just Like Home

Who: Alistair Theirin and you
Broadcast: Nah
Action: On the SS Heron and on Lato'li's surface
When: November 10th

Arrival on the Heron - Closed to Rowan

[One minute, it's nonstop meetings with Teryn So-and-So or Arl Thinks-He's-More-Important-Than-Everyone-Else. The next, Alistair is walking out of the palace's Audience Chamber in favor of finding five minutes alone in the alcove down the hall. He'd never asked to be named king of Ferelden, but he's doing a passable job. Advisers are actually giving advice, instead of trying to tell him what to do. Of course, it helps that he's standing up for himself more and telling them no if he doesn't agree.

But that doesn't stop the constant demands from the nobles rebuilding their lands after the Blight. And the depleted national treasury because of Loghain and Arl Howe. So far, his assessment of this position is: It's a headache.

There are perks, sure. People actually listen to him when he speaks. He's well liked. He's actually respected. It's a total 180 from what his life was like before the Landsmeet where he was thrust into the limelight as Maric's bastard son and the only living Theirin left.

All well and good, but the second he's out the sidedoor near the throne, he's... in a dark, cramped corridor. His father's sword which he normally keeps belted at his waist as the only outward sign of his position is oddly missing and the difference in weight makes him half-stumble before he straightens out and avoids faceplanting on the metal ground. He looks around, but nothing about this place seems like the Fade. Though it's a thought that keeps rearing its ugly head as he looks around and wonders where the hell he is.]

Hello? Riona? Eamon? Hello~? Is anyone there?

[And then there's some sort of strange music, paper being thrown in his face and a tray of... something not too far at hand as he walks into an open space with a wall caving in and scorched. The fanfare is out of place in what looks like a deserted, burned out metal building. And it's the sky outside that gets his attention as he walks closer.]

Maker's breath... What in the world did I walk into?

[And as he attempts to step out of the construct he's on and onto the strange ground, a blood-curdling scream is the only hint that Alistair gets before a sword comes a little too close to his head for comfort.]

Where Is She? - Closed to Riona

[After a very unnerving save by someone claiming to know him and be a Cousland of Highever, Alistair is armed with two swrods against the enemies of this strange world. And looking for his wife. Because he's been told she's here and there's no way he's not going to spend his time to find her.

And while he might be covered in the blood of his enemies, it's a familiar enough feeling that he doesn't even care. It's not important. (At least it doesn't smell like the blood of Darkspawn does.)

As he gets closer to the space ship that is supposed to be where Riona is, he stops running and looks around at the clearing.]

Riona, are you around here somewhere?

[Guess who still doesn't know how to use the damn communicators and doesn't care?]

Choose Your Own Adventure

[Anyone on Lato'li is free to catch up with Alistair as he runs around and fighting like a mad warrior-king. (Without the whole dying thing that another certain king did not that long ago. No more civil wars for Ferelden, alright?

Just hit me up on plurk at

makochan or discord at makotosagara#9497 for plotting ideas!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[To be honest, Alistair is more than just a little grateful for the Mabari's presence. His attention is on the woman in his arms and trying to get her to a more stable state of mind. When she pulls back, he doesn't really want to let her go. They have scant time alone as is that he can just ignore this, as perilous as it may be.

They've been through worse.

Besides, she is responding with something other than tears and drowned out words into his shirt. And actually touching him.

She looks so tired. It worries him until he listens to what she's saying.]

Right. So, I've run into someone claiming to be Rowan Cousland, but he's not your brother, not really. And, he's told me that he's a Grey Warden and that we're supposed to be friends. I've never met him before a day in my life, so I think that the time difference between you and I falls into the category of "we can talk about that later".

I'll just thank the Maker that you're here at all and we can worry about this planet and all the redness around here.

[He looks around with a grimace.]

Certainly puts Redcliffe to shame, doesn't it?

[So he's met Rowan. That must have been an... interesting encounter, to say the least. She'll speak with Rowan about it later; honestly, she feels a bit bad for him, because she knows it hurts to see a friend, only for them to not recognize you. She's been on both ends of that, and it just sucks all around.]

He's a character, isn't he? [Something tells her he and Zevran got along swimmingly.] If you ever wondered what I'd be like if I had been born a man, well, it's Rowan. [That's drastically oversimplifying it, but she's a bit too rattled to properly explain the whole thing at the moment.

When he suggests holding off on the time difference spiel, she nods hesitantly. It has to happen, and probably sooner rather than later, but she can wait.] Okay. Later then.

And then some. I think I've been turned off the color red for quite some time. [She leans her head back against his shoulder, though the tears have stopped. Heck, there's the beginnings of a real smile forming. Now that the shock's wearing off...] I can't believe you're here. I never thought it'd happen.

[He has met Rowan, yes. And...uh.... yeah.]

He's something. And I can honestly say that I have never wondered what you would be like if you had been born a man. I happen to prefer you just as you are. Thank you very much.

[But, he's definitely someone that Alistair could be friends with, given enough time. He got along well with Zevran during their time together—after a fashion.

He can read the hesitation in her movements and figures she's going to want to talk about what's happened in the time they've been apart in her eyes. And, a closer look at her keys him in that it's been more than just the two years she's mentioned.

Still, she's beautiful.]

I don't know. A splash of red now and then isn't so bad, but they've overdone it here.

[The atmosphere of this world is heavier than Ferelden during the Blight and he's not sure he wants to be put in this situation again so soon after all the fighting they've had to do back home. Not that he gets a choice in matters.

As the corners of her mouth start to lift, he smiles down at her before kissing her forehead.]

I can't leave you alone for too long. What kind of husband would I be?

Not even a little? Well, okay, I suppose that I can understand. But what about if I were an elf? Or a mage? [Because she's met, or at least heard, of them as well during her time here. Each completely different from the other, and each having made decisions that sometimes aligned, and sometimes differed. It's a bit fascinating to her, truth be told, even if their existence as the Hero of Ferelden likely spelled death for her in their worlds. If she even existed at all.] But thank you. I do like myself as I am, too, mostly.

[He's watching her. Studying her. Likely noting the differences and aberrations that he doesn't remember being there when they last saw each other. Perhaps it's for the best they hold off on that conversation. Let him gather the evidence on his own. That way, when she tells him, it won't come as much of a surprise.]

To put it lightly.

[She leans into his lips, reveling in his touch. It feels like an age since she's last been this close to him. Who knows how long Alistair will be here, or how long she'll be here. Whatever length of time they have together, she intends to cherish every second of it.

Her smile widens.]

I'm afraid I'm the one who's left you alone. Or it feels like it, anyway. [Because of how long she's been here. That's totally what she means and has nothing to do with back home. Nope. Not at all.] Did you run into much trouble getting here? Maker, but they dropped you in at a rough time. [She leans up a bit, mentally kicking herself for not making sure he was all right sooner. Her eyes scan over him, looking for injuries.] We should get you inside the ship. Get you patched up if you need it. Or washed up, at least. And there's food. [Don't mind her, she's going into Wife Mode.]

I... What? No, I haven't. [To be honest, he's not sure he wants to go there. If it hadn't been her that Duncan brought to Ostagar, would things have been differently? Would he have found the strength to finally stand up for himself and take what he wanted? Would he have fallen in love? Would he have survived the Blight?

No, that's too much to contemplate and he is more than happy with what he's been blessed with.]

Maker's breath, woman, if you're bored of me, just let me know now.

[He's teasing, but the thought lingers and frightens him a bit. As it is, he holds her closer. There are enough odds against them and they both know it. No need to make it worse.

Her smile, though.... Yes, just as it should be.]

Nothing that I couldn't handle. It's nice to know that life at court hasn't utterly ruined me for fighting. [And he's a bit grateful to be here in at time of strife. Peace is more of a headache than he wants to think about. It's not as peaceful as it's supposed to be either.] And I'm fine. None of this blood is mine.

I think.

[He's been running and fighting for a while. He might have a few scratches. But, yes, he's going to fully let her take care of him if she wants. Because he loves that.]

I'll tell you about that another time, then. [At least that conversation will be more entertaining, if not slightly confusing, than anything. It won't be as heavy as the one about the time difference, at least. And it certainly won't be as difficult as her having to tell him that back home, she hasn't seen him in almost two years.

His comment gets a milder, watered down version of The Look. Listen, mister.]

That's impossible and you know it. [She taps him on the nose.] None of that. I'll love you until the day I die. [Which is going to happen sooner than she wants, barring a miracle. BUT NONE OF THAT RIGHT NOW. No no. She's not going to ruin her reunion with her husband like that.]

Good to see you in top form, but if you're not sure if none of this is yours, then it's worth looking over. [She looks up at him with a wry smile.] You're going to have to either put me down or keep hauling me and head inside. Either way, we're better off being inside the ship.

Much later. [He won't deny her anything. It's impossible. He loves her and since it's not anything that might scar him for life, he sees no reason to not talk to her about whatever it is she wants. The time thing will have to be talked about most definitely, but a part of him is wondering how much he's going to hate that.

When she gives him The Look, even if it's milder, he gives her The Sad Puppy before chuckling and kissing her chastely.] Well, in that case, I should probably make sure that today is not that day. And if you think I'm putting you down after that scene you just caused, woman, you don't know me very well at all.

[He looks over to the ship and down at the mabari.] Are you ready, Kiter? We're going to have to run, but I promise I'll give you the first bite out of anyone trying to eat us.

[Spoilers: he's probably going to hate it a lot. But all in good time.]

I was a little emotionally overwrought, not on the verge of fainting! [Gosh you're so dramatic Alistair. All the same, she's not going to complain all that much if he wants to cart her around for a bit longer. Normally she might insist otherwise, but given how long it's been since she's been with him, she's not going to argue it.

Kiter wags his tail, galloping around a bit in excitement. Running!! He loves running!! Especially if it's a race, which is totally how he's treating it, because he doesn't sense any danger and therefore this running is totally for fun in his mind. And because he's a cheating bastard, his only warning is a bark before he takes off towards the ship.]

[Guess what he doesn't hate? Holding his wife. Guess what he's doing? Holding his wife. Guess what he doesn't want to stop doing? Yep, you got it in one.]

Are you absolutely certain? I can never be sure. I suppose I'll just have to carry you until I am.

[Can you blame a man for wanting to keep his wife as close to him as possible after she's had such an outburst? What if it happens again? What would he do then?

And Alistair just watches the dog run ahead like the dirty cheater he is, not even trying to keep pace with the beast because it would be impossible with weapons and woman. He's not dropping either.]

You do know that Kiter is a menace, yes?

[Ah! The ship is close, thank the Maker. It's been a long time since he was a novitiate in the Chantry, running with sacks of grain strapped to his back in full armor. NOT THAT HE WOULD EVER COMPARE HER TO A SACK OF GRAIN! Ever.

Ever.]

[He is absolutely ridiculous and she loves him for it. So she settles in for the short trip to the ship, tucking her head under his and resting it against his shoulder. While she's worried he's been dropped into the middle of cannibal planet without weapons or armor, at this particular moment she's glad for the lack of armor. Otherwise this would be pretty uncomfortable. As it is, she's just going to enjoy this and let him do as he pleases.]

And when will you be certain, hm?

[A teasing question, though she lets it drop when she sees Kiter zoom off towards the ship, and hangs on tighter when Alistair hauls ass after him. She glances over his shoulder at the treeline, making sure they're not being followed.]

Careful. That sort of remark winds up with eaten socks. And then his tummy will be upset and we'll both hear about it for days.

[The mabari waits just outside the entrance, tail wagging as he watches Alistair approach. Of course, just as the man gets near, he'll bound inside the ship, barking like a loon the entire time because he's having a blast. And Riona will laugh with him as he does. She's missed this, all of this.]

[He looks down at her the best he can what with their current positions. She looks so comfortable, so at home, that he doesn't do anything or say anything more while they run until they're on the ship and the mabari is barking like a moron. And Riona is laughing.

A part of him is sad because this could have been their life in another world. A married couple and their dog, spending time and having fun just like anyone else. Instead, they have the Blight to thank for meeting, Loghain Mac Tir for their positions in their country, and Rendon Howe for having to make the step forward to even be able to be married.]

I'm not sure that I'll be certain for a very long time. So, why don't you tell me the way to a room on this ship, hm?

[He can follow the dog, sure, but it's better to get directions from her to be sure.]

The last thing anyone needs is a sick mabari in enclosed spaces.

[Everyone knows the dog is smarter than him. Be a good wife.]

[Riona breathes a sigh of relief once they're on the ship. But she won't entirely relax until they're behind the locks Sokka re-implemented on the doors. She punches the code in for them, allowing the door to unlock and for the three of them to get further inside the ship and behind the safety of the locks. They're not a perfect deterrent, of course, but at least they're better than nothing.]

Well then. Perhaps the bathroom so we can get you cleaned up. You're a bit sticky.

[It'll be easier to deal with the blood in there, rather than in her room where it could get all over her stuff. Besides, she wants to show him the wonder that is running hot water.]

Hang a left and go down to the end of the hall, then it'll be on the right.

[Kiter barks before taking off elsewhere. He knows he's not allowed in the bathrooms. The space doesn't mix well with dog hair.]

[He only nods at her assessment. He doesn't particularly care to be bathed in the blood of his enemies. Sure, it looks pretty intimidating to others, but it's rather uncomfortable after a while.]

That is the most romantic thing you've said all week.

[Not exactly true, but she deserves a little good natured ribbing.

However, he does follow her instructions until they're in a room that... is unlike anything he's ever seen. Carefully, he sets her on her feet as he looks around with unabashed awe and confusion]

What is all of this?

[Who knows what she said that week, so she can't even counter with anything. So all he gets is a poke to his chest for that comment and a squinty stare. Excuse you.

The bathroom is quite a sight to anyone who's never seen one before. Riona remembers the first time she saw it, and how overwhelming it all was. Now, it's as familiar to her as the back of her hand. Funny what two years stuck in a flying tin can does to a person.]

A bathroom, as they call it. Functions as a place for a chamberpot - called a toilet here - and a place to bathe. [It's all actually broken up into several small rooms, with stalls for the toilets and separate mini areas for the showers and bathtubs. She takes his hand and leads him towards the tub.]

Take a seat on the edge here and take off your shirt. We need to check for injuries first. [While he doesn't seem to be in any pain - he picked her up well enough - she still wants to make sure first before doing anything else. While he does that, she goes into the storage closet and grabs two wash cloths.]

[It doesn't matter what she said last week. It only matters that they're together right now. And he will gladly accept the squints and the pokes. Just as he's accepted anything and everything she's ever given him.

He looks around at all the shiny metal in the room that is a stark comparison to the ship he first arrived on and the outside world. It's quite nothing like he's ever seen in his entire life.]

It's both a privy and a bathing space then. The dwarves have something like this, but nothing on this scale.

[He remembers the houses in Orzammar, vaguely. He's not sure how he sounds, because it all seems so orderly and yet bizarre at the same time.

He does allow her to lead him to the edge of the tub and sit down.]

If you wanted me to remove my clothes, woman, you didn't need all this pretense.

Mm, you're right, they were rather like this weren't they?

[It's been so long since she last stepped foot in Orzammar. If her journey allows her, she should go back and visit. Who knows; maybe the Shaperate has something about the taint, some kind of clue that could give her another lead, if the one from Fiona doesn't pan out.

As she grabs the cloth, she shoots him a playful glare.]

Har har. While I will never complain about you removing your clothes, you do need to get cleaned up. [She moves back to the tub, taking one of the wash cloths in hand. She leans into the tub and starts running the water, checking to make sure it gets warm before soaking the cloth.] The water's warm. Off with your shirt, mister. I want to make sure you're not injured, either/

It seems rather luxurious, considering. I wonder if I can have something like this installed in the palace?

[They are rebuilding a great deal of the city after all. And, well, a room like this seems amazing. He'd be hailed as a great king if he could bring this to the people of his country. Something to consider. Later.

He does watch her every movement as he undoes the buttons to his tunic and pantaloons. So much frippery just to exist at court. He hates it. But when she turns around, he is bare chested and the blood-stained tunic is on the ground next to the sturdy boots he'd been wearing before.]

As you wish, my dear.

If we could figure it out, absolutely. The pipes run behind walls, so we'd have to...

[Her words trail off when it clicks that he's half naked in front of her. The sight makes her brain short circuit for a moment, eyes slightly wide and body still.

Memory hardly did him justice. It didn't accentuate the lean lines of his muscles, or quite capture the breadth of his shoulders. Two years without seeing him, and getting by purely on her memory, didn't quite prepare her for actually seeing him in person again. Almost in a trance, she reaches out and runs her hand along his chest, fingers grazing through the light hairs on his chest.]

Um... [Wait, she had been saying something before. Oh Maker. She needs to get talking and get back on track before two years of pent up need bashed through to compel her to push him into the tub and fuck him right then and there.] We'd have to, you know. Walls. Knock them down. Yeah. [Well this isn't going well. She severely underestimated his power over her, and her own horniness.] You know, um, this tub is, ah... [She shoves the cloth into his head as she wrenches herself away and leans over, turning on the tub and the jacuzzi jets.] It's pretty wonderful. The water sprays out of these holes in a way that it's like it's massaging you.

[Desperate attempt to distract them both? Yep.]

[He's been stared at by her dark eyes before and he knows desire when she feels it. It doesn't take a genius and all the blood that is in his body heads for one place and one place only.

He drops the wash cloth into the tub. He'll get back to that in a moment. Instead, he grabs her around the waist and holds her flush to his chest, breathing in the smell of her hair and skin—an earthy spice he'd almost forgotten about that rests under whatever soap she's been using as of late. His obvious erection rests against her back and he doesn't feel any embarrassment for his desire.]

You know, it's rather dangerous to look at a man like that and then turn away, my love. Especially a man who finds you absolutely irresistible on a good day.

[His voice is a low, heavy rumble as his lips find her throat through the thick tangle of her curls.]

I'm whole and hale as you can see, so I think you'd better join me in this massaging bath.

[Well, at least she managed to get the bath going. Because that's about all she's going to manage now. The moment she feels his arm slide around her waist, Riona knows she's a goner.

Alistair has been with her for, what, not even an hour? A half hour? And already he's got her slowly unraveling with his words murmured against her ear. She shudders against him, neck craned to the side to give him all the unfettered access he wants. On a "good day" he's damn hard to resist as well. But today? After two years of being apart, of remembering and aching and fantasizing about his touch during all that time? Her restraint's non-existent. It dried up in that last ditch effort just a moment ago, and she sure as hell is not going to deny him anything now. Or deny herself. Lust and an aching need bordering on pain flares bright and strong in her. She grinds back against his erection, her walls clenching in want.]

Maker save me, I don't think I could say no even if our lives depended on it.

[And that's all the warning he gets before she turns and roughly captures his mouth with hers, hungry, greedy and desperate with the span of time spent apart.]

[Look, he would have been more than happy to take the bath and then have sex with his wife. It's her fault for looking at him like she wanted to eat him. He's never been able to not react to her. It would take a stronger man than him, one carved of the stone dwarves are created from. There are a million things they should talk about, that he should know about their current situation. However, if there's time to take a bath and rest, there's time to pleasure her as well.

And if her reaction is any indication, she needs it. Two years.... Could he last that long without her touch, her voice? She's always been stronger than him in most regards, so it doesn't surprise him that she's held out this long, but there's no need to now. He responds to her kiss with one of his own, lifting her up by her thighs to wrap her legs around his waist.

He moans when she's situated the way he wants her and thrusts up. It's shallow and teasing, but he's much more preoccupied with kissing her senseless right now. His hands wind into her hair. He loves her hair. So much.]

[Like she'd have been able to get into a bathtub with him, completely naked, and manage to not jump him on the spot. Because while she's strong, her strength isn't infinite. And it's been wearing thinner and thinner lately. If Anders and Justice hadn't shown up when they did, well...

It doesn't matter now. They're here, and now Alistair is here with her. Her heart could burst from joy.

She whimpers against his lips as he thrusts up into her. A sharp spike of pleasure lances through her; eager for more, she grinds down against him, lips leaving his to trail down his cheek, then his neck, nipping and suckling just above his pulse point. It's bound to leave a mark. Normally she's not so rough, but it's hard to remember to be gentle when she's half crazed and desperate like this, teeth grazing against his skin and nails digging into his back.]

[Well, there was a part of him that was hoping that it would get to the point where he'd be alone in the bath.

Right now, it's like he has a desire demon wrapped around him and he could care less if she was one. Every sound and spike of pleasure and pain leads straight to his already painfully hard cock. The onslaught from her is so sudden that it appears a little out of character. Not that he's going to stop her.

In fact, he slowly lowers them to the cool floor, reaching for the hem of her shirt once he's resting on his heels and knees. As the cool air hits his neck where her teeth and tongue were moments before, he can tell he'll probably have a sizable hickey there. And he's happy that a certain elf and dwarf are not there to make remarks. Other than that, he doesn't care enough before he's kissing her once more, resuming the teasing thrusts, despite the fact that they're both still wearing pants.]

[The floor is cold and hard under her, but she pays it no mind. Her hands are always on him: caressing, stroking, scratching (gently!) wherever she can reach. The only time she breaks contact is to get her shirt off. Once it's removed and tossed to some corner of the bathroom, she's wrapped around him again.

Well, he'll be free of Oghren's teasing. About Zevran, though...

But that's a problem for a later date. Right now, Riona's far too occupied with him and what he's currently doing to her, which is nothing short of driving her to insanity. The good kind, at least, enough that she's meeting his thrust with her own. The friction is delicious, and one particularly well-aimed thrust lands just right against her, brushing up against a most sensitive spot. A moan rips out of her as she mindlessly pushes against him, wanting it again.]

Maker, you are such a tease.

[Okay, maybe he didn't marry a desire demon. Maybe his beautiful, sane, wonderful wife has been temporarily replaced by a wild animal. It's sort of.... No, it's really very ego stroking.

He takes a moment to look at her body, to see if anything's changed from what he saw just that morning before all this craziness began. Still perfect, even if things have changed a bit. He leans down to suck on one pert nipple, teeth grazing the skin around it for a brief second.]

I've you to thank for that.

[She is still the only woman he's ever been with and he plans on that being the case until he is dead. No one else will understand him the way that she does and for that he thanks the Maker and His Bride everyday for giving him his bride.

His other hand reaches out to grasp her neglected breast and squeeze, hoping to wring more sounds out of her as he considers just how many orgasms he can give her before they're both sated. It's been a long time for her, but he's got stamina that Zevran would sell his soul to a Pride Demon for.]

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NSFW warning. these two horndogs are gonna caboodle

NSFL, you mean

porn is great for life

For *our* lives, maybe

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For our lives, maybe