AU: Inquisitor Alistair and Warden-Commander Brosca, sittin' in a tree...

[wardenbrosca]

Started here see the post for Alistair details.

While in Orzammar, instead of calling the Shaper a bunch of names and storming out of the Shaperate, she called the Shaper a bunch of names and then belligerently stayed there for weeks, researching Grey Wardens. She learned that for some reason, the Warden who slays an archdemon seems to always die. The Memories don't state that outright, but she does notice the pattern, and can add 2 plus 2 and get 4. So she knows that killing the Archdemon is going to involve some death.

Once Riordan shows up, she begins to think they have a shot at survival. She and Alistair decide against putting him on the throne, because they want to be together. Having to break up wouldn't be worth it. During the Landsmeet, Riordan suggests recruiting Loghain, and Zora sees it as a chance to have extra meat shields against the Archdemon. Stuff Loghain down an Archdemon's throat, make his stupid worthless life count for something, and save Brosca and Alistair to live and love another day. That was her plan- use Loghain as their fall guy, so she and Alistair can grow old together.

Alistair did not see it that way. He lost his shit, and since Brosca couldn't explain herself properly in front of the Landsmeet, everything fell apart. Brosca realized he was willing to leave her over his stupid pride, and was so hurt that she got caught up in the craziness of the moment. She knew that killing Loghain also probably meant that one of them would ultimately have to die- she wasn't willing to do that. She hoped Alistair would back down. He didn't. When Anora wanted Alistair executed, Zora freaked out and talked Anora down to exile to spare Alistair's life.

After that, Zora's brief flirtation with trying to actually have a happy ending was over. She was back to her single-minded purpose; the duty that cannot be forsworn. She had Loghain do the Dark Ritual, because if the Wardens were to be her life, they would need all their people alive. They survived the fight with the Archdemon, but she lived in regret forever at ruining Alistair's life. However, her regret was always dwarfed by her anger that Alistair abandoned her, abandoned the order, and didn't trust in her or love her enough to stand by her.

Fast forward ten years: Alistair is the Inquisitor and Brosca visited Skyhold with information about Corypheus and the Architect. She almost got eaten by the Nightmare demon in the Fade. Upon waking from her coma, she and Alistair reconcile, hug it out, and feel all their feelings.

This post is for miscellaneous threads set in that AU. Also, for random alternate scenarios OF the AU. Because sometimes you need to AU your AUs.

Also, there will be a thread list.

Comments

[nobroth]

How. How had he gone so long without her, without this, without feeling like this. He'd forgotten desire, and want, and how right this felt.

He kissed her, and it was a needful thing, breath ragged when he could breathe at all. She knew exactly how to move and how to touch him to sate him and make him want even more. "You drive me mad," he murmured against her mouth, fingers working into her hair and holding there.

Time went by the wayside. How long it was before he moved a hand to the small of her back, there was no way to know, but when he lifted her hips just so, it made every stroke bury him deep, and made his heart pound. "F- Fuck, Zora, I--"

He could feel it starting. However long it had took, however long they'd moved with one another, his body was telling him the time had come.

[wardenbrosca]

As ragged and needful as he was, she was worse, her composure unraveled by his absolute, wanton lust for her. She was drunk on the way he shuddered, the way he moaned and held her and pounded into her like he needed her. Zora held him just as tightly, moved under him, drew in a breath when he spoke those words and pulled her hair.

"I know," she said, biting at his lip and kissing a hard line up his jaw, catching his earlobe in her teeth.

Zora had no idea how long they were together like that, Alistair pounding into her, caressing her, skin on skin hot and smooth and addictive. It could have gone on forever and it never would have stopped feeling right: how he held her, how small she felt pinned under him, strong arms on either side of her to cage her in, his broad form looming over her, hands touching her big enough to cover her whole face. She gripped his arms for something to ground her, so she could get lost in him, in hooking a leg around his waist and moaning her helpless, high-pitched moans into the air trapped between them.

He lifted her hips and her breath stuttered in her throat. Zora was starting to lose it; her hands roamed from his arms to gripping his shoulder to clawing his back to holding his face for a fierce kiss. A red flush crept down her chest, sweat glistening in the moonlight, lips parted to meet his, to kiss him quiet when he groaned out shaky pleasure.

"Alistair," she whined, unable to breathe without moaning. She'd always loved this part, when he started to lose his mind, when he started to curse and lose his caution. It drove a spike of lust down her spine; she bucked her hips and snaked a hand between them to touch herself in quick light strokes that made her cry out. "Yes," she moaned, biting her lip and meeting his eyes desperately. "Yes, yes- Alistair- come, come in me."

It was stupid, senseless babble that trailed into a keening noise as she arched, holding him tight enough for her nails to scratch long red lines down his back, coming hard around him with a curse and a cry of his name.

[nobroth]

Her nails down his back went through him like lightning, making breath and voice catch in his throat. His movements became hurried, staccato, and then, groaning on each thrust, he pushed in deep, once, again, again, muscles straining as he left his seed inside of her. His breath became panting, arms finding a way to brace on either side of her as he had to regain his strength.

Nothing had felt like that since--

Since.

And now he had to wonder if anything ever would. Every part of him felt made for her. He responded to her in ways even his imagination couldn't match. But in that moment, he didn't want to think about what that meant. Not when he could still feel her warmth near him and her skin on his. Not when he could lean down and press a kiss against her shoulder. Not when years of tension had finally let him go.

[wardenbrosca]

Zora hummed her approval and squeezed around his cock, knowing how short his recovery really was. Now that they had both gotten the absolute, driving madness out of the way she was free to run her hands up and down his chest, fingers recalling the old scars and cataloging the new, lingering a bit at his nipples with a gentle caress.

There were so many things she could say, but she feared that if they spoke this night would go sideways fast, so she kept touching him, kept exploring him with her hands, kept squeezing around him every so often and stroking the back of his thigh with her foot. She kept touching him, to keep them from needing to speak.

[nobroth]

As always, even the lightest touch to his nipples made him gasp and kept him hard, as if that was about to flag. His nerves were still singing, heart still beating hard. She really did know every inch of him, even now.

Her little touches encouraged his, his hands sweeping up her sides until his thumbs were following the low curve of her breasts, skimming upward until they circled her nipples and he could give them a warm squeeze.

Easier not to think. So much easier to feel. And easier still to follow his wants, his head ducking down until his mouth could fasten over one of those nipples, tongue swirling around the peak.

[wardenbrosca]

Zora tipped her head back and moaned out loud, her fingers winding into his hair to hold him there. He remembered how sensitive she was there, how easily that could make her unravel.

"Oh," she sighed, rocking her hips against his. "Alistair, that's-"

She trailed off. Better not to speak too much, except to moan his name. Better to keep running her hands up and down his back, scraping lightly with her nails, tracing the edge of that old acid scar. Better to reach down and grab his ass with both hands, massaging and squeezing and digging in her nails.

[nobroth]

Sucking, nibbling, he paid each breast attention, and pushed deep inside her, thrust by rocking thrust. The movements were slow and short without a single full length press, but he was never very far out of her with any move.

It was the sort of rhythm that would last as he kissed his way up, up from her breasts to her collarbone to her mouth. Those nails were setting his blood on fire again, and he murmured against her lips. "Damn it, Zora..."

But his resistance was melting by the moment.

[wardenbrosca]

She wound her hands into his hair again and caught those lips in a searing kiss: deep, slow, tongues stroking together intimately, biting at his lip, dragging him closer to feel him even deeper. Maker, she wanted him- she had him, and yet she still wanted him with a need that burned under her skin like a blacksmith's fire.

"Al," she gasped, lust undoing her higher thoughts, making her senseless to resist the intimacy and memories of the pet name. "Please, I need-"

You.

[nobroth]

"Yes."

One word, but it held so much meaning. Breath uneven, he started to move, thrusting against her now in long, thorough strokes, mouth affixed to hers needfully. No time to think or wonder. There was only time to move and want, give and take with the two of them so starved for touch--

He had always been mouthy in more ways than one, and now his traveled over all of her he could reach. Her neck, shoulder, collarbone. He sucked on the lobe of her ear, let his teeth graze her throat, hips moving all the while. And when she touched him with her nails, it drew out all sorts of moans and gasps and incomprehensible growls, thrusts changing from deep and slow to quick and hard and back again, following whatever his body demanded moment to moment.