@Lupus
You have far too many ridiculously pretty pictures of reasonably dressed people now. Let me find my tablet and we'll raise the rating a little.

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My Anders in Origins prompt fill.
I'm not really happy with this, but everyone else's was so happy and cute. So, you know I had to add a promise of smut and death. So without further a do:
"An End of an Origin"
She was fighting like mad to free herself from his arms, her wordless cries of abject grief clashing violently with the screeches of the severely wounded Archdemon. Alistair, of course, was running headlong at the damned thing leaving him to hold onto the elf... The flash of light and power knocked him off his feet. Several minutes later he ventured a chance at opening his eyes. What the f---? Everything was brown and swirly. Something moved over him. Maeve. The brown was her hair then. Anders took a deep painful breath and sat up. He cradled her body across his lap searching her face for life. He smiled in spite of himself as her eyes flickered open. Not dead then. That at least he could be thankful for.
“Mae?”
She pushed him away roughly taking advantage of the shift in both position and situation. By the time Anders had made it to his feet she was running toward Alistair's body. He could tell the boy was dead. She wasn't half the healer he was and even she would know that. The desperate way she was trying to force magic to produce some semblance of life into Alistair's body tore at Anders' heart. Really? Did she think it would help.
"He's gone. You're just wasting your mana." He dropped to his knees and slid an arm around her. Maeve turned on him, wild-eyed and with only a dangerously tenuous control over her power.
"No. He lied to me. He said he went to her. He'd be fine. I just had to keep you safe. That was my job. I just had to worry about you. He'd be fine. He went to her."
Great, she'd gone mad with grief. From her rambling he gathered that Alistair had not had to die, but, honorable fool that he was, had sacrificed himself. Was being king so objectionable? Anders understood the fear of being locked away forever in a castle, but Alistair had left the woman alone. This was unforgivable. A life that featured a pretty girl, a full stomach, and the ability to lop off the head of any Templar of his choosing almost seemed worth it. Almost.
"Just breathe."
He pulled her to his chest. All these months, she had remained stalwart, letting no one see the cracks in her facade of lead Grey Warden. Well, excluding that one night...
"I have a favor to ask of you," Maeve whispered into his ear.
"Ah. That's why you wanted to be on watch with me. And here I thought it was because you liked me." He worked his face into a comically exaggerated pout.
"You'll, You'll like this," she blushed furiously.
"Oh, do tell."
"I want to..." She bit hard into her bottom lip.
"Yes?"
"I want to sleep with Alistair. I love him." Blood was gathering in the middle of her lip. Anders ran a finger over the split to heal it.
"Where do I come into this? Do you want me to talk to him?" Anders smiled wickedly. "The Circle Mage biddy already told him where babies come from."
“No. When he does sleep with me, if he will-”
“Oh, he will. I would, right now.” He leered at her ridiculously before laughing and giving her shoulder a playful shove.
“Honestly?” She looked up at him with a look of bald-faced terror.
“Are you asking?” She was not asking him that. She wasn’t.
“Yes.”
“But Alistair.” What in the Dark City?
“For Alistair.” She rubbed the heel of her hand roughly between her eyes. “When he... It’ll hurt me.”
“So, you, never?” He looked at her skeptically.
“Yes. I... He’ll hurt me and it’ll kill him. He all but dies when he rolls over on my hair, Anders.” She pressed herself to his chest. “You though. You’re not that naive or tenderhearted.”
“No, I am not, but I can’t do that, Mae.” Push her away Anders. No? Okay.
“Why? Guilt-free sex? That sounds right up your corridor.” She slipped an arm around his neck.
“Guilt-free? Yes, I would never feel guilty about sleeping with my friend’s woman.” He leaned into her embrace until they were forehead to forehead.
“The virtue of aiding me negates the sin of going behind his back.”
“Rationalizing? Now that always makes things better.”
“If you’re going to be passive-agressive, just passive-aggressively take me into the woods and-”
“Mae-”
“Please. You know, I only asked you because I car-trust you.”“Warden!”
Anders snapped back to the present to see their allies gathering around them slowly.
“It’s dead then. And... and the king?”
Maeve stood, suddenly every bit the last Grey Warden in Ferelden.
“Fereldens, you are lucky. You have such a blessed wonderful king, that he would give himself for your safety. We shall not allow his sacrifice to be in vain. We will follow his example and give our everything to rebuild the kingdom that he gave,” here she faltered slightly, “his all too short life for. Go forth and tell our fellows of our victory. For Ferelden!”
“For Ferelden!” the men shouted in unison and began working their way down the tower. A couple of the Redcliffe knights looked from Maeve to Anders to Alistair’s still body.
“Please take him,” Anders said taking his cue from Maeve’s silence. “There’s a woman below, a Leliana. She will want to see him first. He loved her.” The men reverently lifted the fallen king to their shoulders and followed their compatriots down the steps.
“He left me, like I did him. Maybe not in the same way, but still.” She slipped back into Anders’ arms burying her nose in the juncture between neck and shoulder. He gingerly laid a kiss atop her head as a tremor of guilt worked its way through is body. He’d held her back from Alistair in both situations.
“It’s over at least...”
“You are naive, after all. It’s actually just starting for us, love.”
Modifié par cave_fatuam, 04 décembre 2010 - 07:49 .