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darlingrutherford · 5 years

Note

Hey! Heard you were looking for fluff prompts, so maybe Alistair and Lana just hanging out in their tent together during origins, staying up late into the night and having a conversation/playing a game? Just something to maybe spark your interest.

“I'm not sure I'm catching on,” Lana said with a furrowed brow at the five cards in her hand. “I want them to match?”

“Matching is good.” Alistair nodded as his hand slid over the neat stack of cards in front of them. Dim magelight lit the tent, illuminating their cards as Lana shuffled hers around. Bryn, her mabari, lay curled at the side of the tent on his blanket, fast asleep and highly uninterested in their game. “The higher the suit matching the better.”

“I thought you said we were only supposed to take one card?” Lana tilted her head slightly as she regarded the cards in Alistair's hand. He cleared his throat as his ears reddened, giving her a smile as he put one back. Lana's eyes narrowed as he shifted on the bedroll. “Are you cheating?”

“It isn't called Wicked Grace for nothing,” he chuckled as he picked a card from his hand and discarded it into the second pile. When he met her eyes again, he couldn't help but laugh at the look of disbelief she was giving him. “It's part of the game! Everyone cheats at it. You're supposed to try to catch people cheating, while cheating yourself. It's how you squander them out of their money.”

“Seems fairly dishonest.”

“Well, I mean… If everyone is doing it…” Alistair trailed off, pausing as Lana continued staring at him with scrutiny. He could hear the chirping of crickets in the field outside their tent at the late hour, the pounding of blood in his ears as they held each other's gaze. Then, she began laughing, and Alistair sighed in relief. “Maker's breath, I thought… You are trouble, do you know that?”

“I'm already keeping you awake. I might as well entertain you a little bit,” she said with a small smile.

“I don't mind. The ‘keeping me awake’ bit. Or the entertaining, for that matter. I know those dreams can be unsettling.” Alistair watched Lana as she simply nodded with her eyes on her cards. The dream had been jarring, more so than usual. Whenever Lana awoke with such a fright, Alistair assumed it to be her recurring nightmare from her childhood. That a dream of the archdemon had frightened Lana to the point of not wanting to sleep had been extremely unusual for her, and Alistair had immediately broken out a deck of cards to occupy her mind. Lana set her cards face down in front of her with a sigh as she ended her turn.

“Have you ever… Had a dream like that? I mean… I know you've seen the archdemon before in your sleep, but… Has it ever…”

“A couple nights before you first saw it in your sleep, I saw it in mine. That first time especially was a bit unnerving…” Alistair picked a card from the pile and brought it to his hand, shuffling it around with the others as he decided which to discard. As he opened his mouth to continue, he froze when his eyes lifted to look at Lana. She had untied the ribbon she always used to finish her braid and was running her fingers through her hair as she unbraided strand by strand. He had only seen her with her hair down once before, that time at the river when he had accidentally came upon her. Small waves from the braid pressed throughout her long hair as she fluffed it with her fingertips as if shaking the memory of the dream from her mind. Maker, but… Sitting across from him in his much too large for her shirt with her copper hair almost to her waist, he was sure she was the epitome of perfection.

“Did you finish your move?” Lana asked. Her cheeks had begun to redden, all too aware of how he was staring.

“No. No, there's just one more thing…” Alistair hastily discarded a card into the pile before setting his cards face down as he leaned forward. He brought his hand to rest at the nape of her neck, gently encouraging her towards him until they met in the middle. Lana brought her hands to rest on the bedroll between them as she smiled against Alistair's lips. She couldn't help but sigh through her nose as he deepened the kiss. His kisses were always so passionate, so purposeful, as if she were the only thing he had ever wanted in the world. As he ended the kiss she gently pulled her hands back, laughing as he pecked the tip of her nose before straightening his back. Lana cleared her throat as she picked up her cards and shuffled them, biting her lip as her cheeks flushed while Alistair continued to gaze lovingly at her.

“I, um… I suppose I should…” She pulled a card from the deck, holding it out for Alistair to see. “That means the game's over, right?”

“Correct. I knew I found a smart one,” he teased with a wiggle of his brows. He picked up his five cards in front of him with a triumphant look on his face. “Now, just because I am about to destroy you with this hand doesn't mean you should be discouraged from…”

Alistair's voice trailed off, the smug look falling from his face in favor of a very confused brow as he looked at the cards in his hand, none of which he recognized from moments ago.

“Is this a good hand?” Lana asked as she presented her cards. She fanned them out on the blanket, and Alistair's eyes narrowed. Three angels and two serpents. His two serpents which had been in his hand only moments before, which had been replaced with two songs of two different themes. As he looked back at Lana accusingly, her brows lifted and lip pouted ever so slightly to tempt his mercy.

“A fine hand… For a cheater!” He kept his voice low to spare the others in their separate tents, but the accusation rang clear in his voice and his pointing finger. Lana's mouth gaped at him as she fought a growing urge to smirk.

“Me?” She repeated innocently as she held a hand to her chest.

“Fitting you chose serpents. Just like a sneaky snake, slithering them from my hand.”

“How could I have taken them from your hand without you noticing?” Lana asked. Alistair paused in contemplation, then shock grew on his face as realization set in.

“The kiss!” He gasped.

“The one that you initiated?”

“Yes, but, you… You put your hair down!”

“Thank goodness for my sentient hair. I would never steal anything without its help,” Lana teased.

“I know you switched them somehow… Using your womanly ways to distract me, for shame. Fine. Victory is yours, this time. Mark my words, though! I shall have my revenge!”

“Neither of us will live to see your revenge if you wake Leliana,” Lana laughed. “Best three out of four?”

“We should probably try to get some sleep,” Alistair chuckled. He began collecting the cards, his eyes occasionally flickering up to look at Lana as she quietly tugged at her hair. “Is it still bothering you?”

“It's just… I know I've seen the archdemon in my sleep before. I've felt its gaze on me, that's nothing new.”

“It doesn't mean it gets easier. It's okay if it hasn't,” Alistair said. He packed the cards away, shifting to the side to make room as Lana slid to sit beside him. Alistair waited patiently as Lana tried to find the words while she hugged her knees. He knew there must have been more to it. For her to have woken up screaming like that...

“It wasn't only the archdemon. I… I was dreaming about… About my mother, and… When I hid beneath my bed, this time, as she approached… I thought she was gone, and then it was there, in my face, terrible and surrounded by flames, and…”

“It intersected your nightmare,” Alistair said quietly. Lana nodded quickly before burying her face against her knees. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to lean against him. Alistair kissed the top of her head before running his fingers through her hair.

“It feels like it knows me now… But, that sounds silly…”

“It's not silly,” Alistair mumbled. He paused for a moment before grinning as he pulled her back. “I know how to fix it.”

“What? How?” Lana looked at him curiously, raising her brow in confusion as he encouraged her onto her back.

“Ready? I need you to be ready for this, because, if we want it to work, like, really work, you have to be ready.”

“Okaaay…” Lana trailed off. She watched Alistair in interest as he stretched his arms overhead, weaving his fingers before bringing them in front of him and outstretching his arms until his knuckles cracked. He wiggled his arms loose, clearing his throat as he moved his neck side to side and began humming. It was the strangest tune, not one Lana had ever heard before. It was more along the lines of a two note hum one may have done while meditating, occasionally evolving into higher and lower pitches as he moved his fingers in abstract shapes in the air. Lana tried her best to keep up her gaze with his movements, when suddenly his left hand fell to his side as the index finger of his right hand began spiraling towards her and, with an echoing pop from his mouth, booped her on the tip of her nose. As if the curtain had obviously fallen on his act, Alistair slid under the blanket, wrapping his arms around Lana and pulling her close as usual.

“What was that?” Lana laughed as Alistair buried his face against her neck.

“I fixed it,” he said simply while yawning against her skin.

“That easily?” She teased, hints of laughter still in her voice.

“I know. I'm amazing. Don't go telling everyone, though. I'll never be able to sleep if everyone starts coming to me going, fix our sleep, Alistair! Soon, all of Ferelden will want their dreams fixed and I will be exhausted.”

“I wouldn't want that,” Lana hummed in agreement. She turned to her side to shift her arm beneath Alistair's neck, making it easier for him to cuddle up against her. She knew it would have been an interesting sight, her and her not even five foot self cradling him and his over six foot broad frame, but, Maker, it felt wonderful holding him, knowing that he felt just as safe in her arms as she felt in his. As she closed her eyes, the magelight dimmed in time, and she smiled. “Good night, Alistair.”

“Good night, cheater.”

#thank you so much for this cute prompt!!!#alistair Theirin #lana surana #Alistair x warden #alistair x surana #Suranistair #lanistair #dragon age #dragon age origins #fanfiction #my ocs #my work

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

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how does alistair propose to lana? :3 in canon first and foremost, but if it's cool, modern au as well? :D

Modern au I’ll post later, but in the meantime, here’s canon! :3

The sky was a swirl of pink and white as the air began to cool with the setting of the sun. From the hill they sat on, Alistair could just make out the forms of a pack of nugs as they scurried into brush to ready for the night while birds made their last rounds in the sky. It had been years since they ended the Blight. Years of Lana tirelessly working as Warden-Commander of Ferelden, of Alistair loyally standing at her side in constant support as he watched her settle into the confidant woman he had always seen hiding behind her past. The years had forced them apart at times, never longer than they could stand, and always returning to one another with eager embraces. They never found a need for a reminder of why they loved one another. Here, sitting on the hill in a rare moment of peace and quiet, legs pressed against one another as they fiddled with wildflowers, they had all the reasons they would ever need.

Alistair looked down at his hands as he fumbled with the picked flowers. They had done this before, made a habit of it when they had time alone, just the two of them - braiding wildflowers wherever they sat together, a way of giving Lana something to busy her hands with that didn't involve her post. Alistair smiled as he glanced at hers, not perfect by any means but still miles better than his ever were. He had accused her of practicing while he had been gone, unable to hide his grin as she scolded him for such a thought. She had perfected the shape, though, connecting the loops at just the right intervals now to fit his head perfectly once she was done.

“It must have been difficult,” Alistair commented, returning his eyes to the nearly finished crown in his hand. Wildflowers of pink and yellow weaved together haphazardly, mixing with bits of crystal grace he had picked along the way as they walked towards the hill.

“Hm?” Lana smiled as she turned her attention to him. Alistair felt a shiver run down his spine as the warmth from her gaze combatted the cooling of the day.

“When I was gone. It must have been difficult… Finding someone with the same size head as me to practice your crowns on.” Alistair grinned wildly as Lana shoved him at his shoulder with a scowl.

“It would have been impossible to find a warden in all of Ferelden with a skull as thick as yours,” she retorted.

“That why you send me off to do your dirty work? Because of my thick skull?” He teased. His fingers weaved in his last piece of crystal grace, and he turned the lopsided crown in his hands as if inspecting it.

“It is,” Lana sighed with a nod. “Although, you've gotten better as well, Alistair. I should be suspicious that you spent all your time finding someone with long enough ears to balance it correctly, instead of delivering that document.”

“Yes, there were loads of flowers and stems to practice on in Orzammar, not to mention elven women with ears as fine as yours,” he chuckled. Alistair watched as Lana continued working on the flowers in her hands. She was slower than him, spending more time carefully and thoughtfully constructing the crown. It was probably why hers always looked much tidier than his, he thought. But then, she always seemed to glow brighter than the setting sun whenever he placed hers on her head, even on the occasion he made it too big and it slid to become more of a necklace than a crown. As he waited for her to finish and for them to exchange, he stared at the green grass, picking nervously at the strands in front of him.

“Are you happy, Lana?” Alistair asked. He could see her smile in his peripheral, and he hummed in appreciation as she leaned just a little more against his side.

“Six years ago I would have never expected to become comfortable being Warden-Commander. It still feels strange sometimes, but having you at my side makes it infinitely easier.”

“I meant with us, but I should have known you're all work, work, work,” he sighed. He smiled as she laughed, holding the finished crown in front of her.

“I wouldn't make flower crowns for just any of my lovers,” she teased.��

“Then I am a lucky man,” he said, grinning as she placed the crown on his head. She was getting better at it. He could feel it fit more snug than usual, not sliding even as he looked down to pick his from the ground. The first time she had shown him how, his had fallen apart when lifting it towards her head. That was years ago, and now he felt confident knowing that, though lopsided and weighed with too many flowers, it would hold. His heart swelled as he placed the crown on her. It sat on the parietal of her head, balancing on the tip of her ears as it threatened to slip from the weight of the flowers. But still, she glowed, smiling from ear to ear as her cheeks blushed just as red as the first time, the flowers so out of place with their scratched up armor. Maker, but she was perfect.

“Marry me. Right now. Right here.” The words left Alistair as more of a mumble than anything. Rare were the moments he became nervous around her these days, but suddenly he found the request more terrifying to ask than fighting a horde of darkspawn alone. Lana had frozen, her eyes still locked to his as the red spread from her cheeks and filled her ears to the tips.

“But there's… There's no one here to marry us,” she said. She bit at her lower lip, unable to contain the smile that grew on her face and caused his to grow in time.

“I don't care,” Alistair said. He took her hands into his, thumbs caressing the back of her hands as his eyes traveled her image. “The Maker can be our witness. Or, that… That nug over there. I know it seems to be more interested in chewing on its foot, but that's… Beside the point. The point is, I love you, Lana. And I… I don't think I can stand one minute not being tied to you for eternity.”

“Oh, Alistair,” Lana sighed. She smiled as she slipped a hand from his to rest on his face. Her thumb drew gentle circles on his cheek as he leaned into her touch, eyes watching her with a determination and passion she had grown to know dearly. “The Maker knows I gave my heart and soul to you long ago. Surely, in His eyes, that bond can never be broken.”

Alistair pulled his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers as he held her close. The flowers from her crown pressed softly against his forehead, wrinkling where his fingers laced in the back of her hair. Being hers was the best decision he had ever made, that he was certain of. Each day he was allowed to hold her his heart would fill, and today he was almost certain would be the day it would finally burst. Maker, but he never wanted to be parted from her side again. Only for the most dire of situations would he allow it from then on, he decided. As his lips parted from hers, Alistair glanced to the side, squinting down the hill.

“Do you think that nug needs to sign anything?” Alistair asked, glancing around as he tried to locate the small creature.

“Alistair,” Lana laughed as she shook her head. She grabbed the collar of his padded armor, pulling him back down to her. And as his lips crashed to hers like a magnet that would never lose its way, he knew she was happy, and all he had ever wanted.

#Anonymous #alistair theirin #lana surana #alistair x warden #alistair x surana #lanistair #suranistair #dragon age #my ocs #fanfiction #my work

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

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Kinktober Day 6

Happy day six of Kinktober!

There’s still one spot open on the list! I still need to update the current list, but if you’d like to put in a suggestion for spot #29 check out the current list and send em my way! Since this is the last one, I’m gonna hold out for a few days before deciding :)

Today’s prompt brought to you by this lovely submission by anonymous: “Alistair: dirty talking, edging and fingering his love into an explosive orgasm.” I’m not great at dirty talk, but I tried my best to make it good and something that sounded like it could come out of Alistair’s mouth ;)

And, because @schoute is so freaking flipping amazing and presented me with the most amazing art of Lana and Alistair last night, here’s some Grade A art to set the mood:

I probably kept her up way too late last night crying over this, and it just wouldn’t be right of me not to share! I figured today would be perfect to post it along with this prompt of my favorite OTP <3

Fingers gripped thick fabric, knuckles turning white as their tent filled with sighs. Lana's arms stayed dutifully at her side, obeying Alistair's command. They had only just made camp, just the two of them on their way to their next destination, far off the road in a small clearing in the forest, and Alistair had almost immediately pointed at the tent and made his intentions clear. Armor had been shed, clothes tossed to the side as she writhed beneath his expert touch.

“Maker, Alistair,” Lana breathed heavily. They had been going at it for some time now. Alistair hummed against her breast as he nipped at it, two of his fingers slowly rubbing at the hot inside of her. He released her nipple with a pop, straightening his back to lounge at her side.

“You're a naughty girl, aren't you?” Alistair breathed the words into her ear, smirking as he did. Lana's back arched as she blushed, her mouth hanging open as he sped his fingers. Her toes curled as his fingers rubbed against her, whimpers leaving her throat. “Oh, you like it when I touch you there?”

Lana whimpered, nodding weakly in response. She whined as he began pulling his fingers from her, her head turning to look up at him with begging eyes.

“Tell me how much you like it,” he instructed, and her heart fluttered at his tone.

“I love it,” she whimpered, her voice breathy. Alistair slid his fingers further into her, and her eyes fluttered shut.

“You do, don't you? You love it when I fuck you with my fingers, don't you, love? Just... like... this...?”

“J - Just like that,” Lana whimpered, nodding as best she could in the moment. Alistair hummed in approval, taking a moment to kiss her temple. She sighed at his gentle touch, her hands twisting at the blanket beneath them as she felt a delicious pressure beginning to build deep inside her.

“You're getting close, aren't you? The way you're tensing around my fingers, I can tell, almost there...” He said, trailing off as he watched her intently. Her breath got heavy, hips gently rolling in time with his fingers as she felt herself get closer, and closer...

A loud, exasperated sigh left Lana as his fingers left her suddenly. Her eyes shot open, begging up at Alistair as he lay there on his side, shaking his head at her with a truly devious smirk.

“Please,” she breathed. The word left her throat raggedly. Her hips tried to chase after his hand that only came down to push them back against the bedroll.

“I didn't say -”

“Alistair…”

“That you could -”

“Maker, please, let me come!”

“You're awfully impatient tonight,” Alistair chuckled. Lana gave in as he continued holding her hips down, swallowing as her body slowly came down from that edge. She whimpered again as Alistair brought his fingers to her heat, slowly sliding two of them along the outside. “Maker, you're so wet… Do you know why you're this wet, Lana?”

“Because of you,” Lana said. She sighed deeply as he sunk his two fingers into her again. She felt more whole with them there, how snuggly they fit in her and stretched her wonderfully.

“That's right,” he nodded with a grin. “Does anything else ever get you this wet?”

“No, never,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. Her eyes had fluttered shut again, her cheeks red as she arched into his touch. He was moving his fingers slowly in her still, carefully building her back up after denying her once already.

“Maker, you are so incredibly sexy,” Alistair murmured as he watched her. Her cheeks flushed even more, her lips parting as he sped his touch. “I love the sound of you moaning… You can't control it, can you? How loud you get…”

Lana shook her head with a whimper. Alistair shifted between her legs, and her back arched towards him with a gasp as he brought his other hand just above her heat, his fingers firmly rolling sporadically on her. She shook under his touch, quickly racing towards that edge once more. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the blanket, her eyes opening to find him watching her intently with an eager grin on his face.

“Please,” she breathed. Her hips rolled against his fingers, her voice pleading. Maker, she was so close. She knew he could feel it. Alistair wasn't much of a sadist, but for her, he would be anything she wanted.

“Do you want to come, love?” Alistair asked softly, as if it were any other request in the world. Lana nodded and whimpered her response. It took everything in her not to burst right then and there, knowing that the minute she began without his permission he would pull back. Her heart raced, anticipation piling up as she stilled her hips despite his ongoing touch. Alistair leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against hers. A begging whimper brushed against his lips, and she could feel him smirk. “I want you to come, Lana. So loud that every person passing by on the King's Road knows how much you love to be fucked by my fingers. Do that for me.”

Permission given, it didn't take long for Lana to snap. Her body shuddered, and then she froze, before her back arched wildly and the gasps began rolling from her throat. She cried out, profanities mixed with his name on her tongue as she spasmed and flexed around his still thrusting fingers while wave after wave of pleasure had her writhing beneath him. When her body began to slump, Alistair removed his fingers from her heat, and she watched with tired eyes as he cleaned off each digit one by one in his mouth, humming in approval as he went.

“Was that okay?” He asked, sliding onto his side next to her. “I mean, I know you came, which is always a pleasure to assist with, but, was it what you had in mind?”

“I don't think you're capable of doing anything wrong,” Lana said with an exhausted laugh. Alistair grinned as he pulled her close to him, gently stroking the tip of her ear just light enough to make her sigh.

“Sooo, that time when I threw you in the river…? Ooor, the time I misplaced your smalls? What about -”

“I rescind my statement,” she mumbled against his chest, and Alistair scowled. Lana closed her eyes as Alistair stroked the back of her head, beginning to drift off with his soothing touch, until heat scorched her face as his next words fell from his tongue.

“Sounds like a dissatisfied customer… I'd better make sure you get your money's worth.”

#kinktober #alistair theirin #alistair x surana #alistair x warden #dragon age #dragon age origins #suranistair #lana surana #schoute #fan art #fucking amazing art #fanfiction #my fics #my work #my ocs #ao3

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

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Idk who sent in that Anon about a week ago asking me about an AU where my Surana could become queen consort but I'm now OBSESSED with it and I (lovingly) fully blame you.

Like... Alistair stepping up to take the throne, and Lana accepting quietly that she'll never really be able to be with him again, not the way they wanted.

Alistair surprising her (and everyone else) when he states, "Also, this beautiful woman here is going to be my Queen."

Eamon being a bit blustered and rambling loudly about how Alistair can't do that, she's an elf and a mage.

And Alistair is like, "I mean, it's either that or I walk. You can have a Theirin and this tiny little woman or nada from me."

And Lana's just standing there looking like her brain has officially broken because they all agree to it.

Lana Surana, who came from an abusive family and only has just begun to accept that one man could love her despite her being a mage, and now has an entire country celebrating her.

And Alistair's standing there, proud of himself for taking a stand and demanding something in his life when everything had been previously decided for him, but also proud of her, because he isn't just pushing for this because he loves Lana, but because he knows what a loving, kind queen she will be.

#I'm crying #i want it #Alistair Theirin #Surana #suranistair #dragon age #dragon age origins #Lana Surana

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

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Kinktober Day 9

Happy day 9 of Kinktober, all!

Thanks so much to everyone’s patience. Day 7 and 8 will be posted eventually, I’m just still lagging a bit behind with everything going on. In the meantime, here’s today’s fill, brought to you by this lovely request via Anon: “Alistair's queen riding him into oblivion on the throne.”

Being King never seemed to get easier. There were days when the crown felt heavier than others, sometimes even after the end of a long day of sitting and listening to complaints with little break between. Today had been one of those days, where everyone in Ferelden seemed to have come to pick a fight with the King over matters that he wasn’t sure he was fit to solve. As Alistair sat on the throne and the final person filtered out of the throne room, he slumped with a loud sigh, closing his eyes as the guards shut the great wooden doors and he was left with his first moment of silence that day. Not two minutes had gone by when he heard the doors creak as they opened once more, and Alistair groaned. Fully ready to whine for a moment of peace, he cracked open an eye before perking up as his queen entered the room. He watched her say something quietly to the guards, before making her way towards him as they left, closing the doors behind them.

“Maker, but you look beautiful,” Alistair sighed, slumping back down in the throne with a smile as she walked across the long rug that led to the throne. He could feel her smile reach him from halfway across the room as soft, light blue fabric swayed amongst her feet.

“You look exhausted,” Lana said sweetly as she climbed the few steps to his throne. “You’ve been in here for ages today.”

“Yes, well… A king’s work is never done, I suppose,” he sighed. He hummed happily as she placed a hand on either of his shoulders, his hands traveling towards her waist like magnets as she straddled his hips. He ran his hands up her sides, the fabric smooth beneath his palms as he grasped at her breasts without hesitation, knowing that they were alone.

“You work so hard for your people,” she said quietly, leaning forward to press soft lips against his own. Her kiss lingered for a moment, sweet and tender, before pulling away as she trailed two fingers down the bridge of his nose, around his cheeks, then down his jaw, all the while she looked at each spot appreciatively and with a warmth that made Alistair melt beneath her. If she continued, he would be naught but a puddle on the throne, he was sure of it. “Surely the King deserves a reward or two?”

She leaned forward again, and this time Alistair breathed her in as their lips met. His tongue licked at her lips, pressing its way in to explore her mouth as her lips gladly parted for him. His hands squeezed at her as she pressed against him, thumbs rubbing over her through the fabric until he could feel her nipples perk beneath. Maker, but it didn’t take much from her to get him to rise to the occasion. He had just begun pondering the quickest route back to their chambers when he tilted his chin down to watch her small hands as they pulled at the laces on his trousers. Her lips quickly captured his again, easily redirecting him.

“Right here?” Alistair asked with a heavy breath between kisses. He could have slapped himself right then for questioning Lana when she was having such a rare moment of boldness. She was always so timid when it came to being the one to initiate a moment such as this, and he wanted nothing to do with discouraging her. As if anticipating her hesitation at his words, he grasped her backside with vigor to pull her against his straining erection, satisfied with the whimpered sigh that bounced from her mouth off his lips. He lifted his hips, aiding her to shimmy his trousers just low enough to free his aching cock, and as her hand wrapped around it he whimpered against her lips. Not very kingly, he was sure some would say, but, Maker, if she had wanted to take control of him for every night the rest of his life, he would die a happy man. Alistair eagerly brought his hands to her legs, pulling at the skirt of her dress until he could lift it to her belly, and a delighted laugh left his throat.

“Were you planning this?” He asked, regarding her lack of smalls as his hand dipped down to find her already soaked with anticipation. He watched red spread across her cheeks, and he grinned widely as she dared herself to slide along his outstretched hand.

“You always said you wanted me to feel at home here,” she teased. Alistair moved his hand as he felt her lift, groaning as she slowly slid onto him.

“If this is you feeling at home, I should expect my council meetings to be - mmm - very different.” A wide grin had spread on Alistair’s face. He watched Lana with glossed eyes, marveling at her as she rocked her hips against him. Her mouth hung open ever so slightly, her tongue jutting out to sweep along her lower lip for a quick moment. Her eyes shut, whimpers leaving her throat as her hands gripped his shoulders. Alistair slid his hands back down her body, squeezing at her thighs encouragingly as they flexed at his sides. Her hips were rocking sporadically against him, encouraged by his touch and the moans that were collecting deep in his throat. As she lifted her hips and vigorously brought them back down, the two of them moaned loudly in unison. Alistair's head pressed against the back of the throne as she did it again. Maker, but she knew exactly what she was doing to him. She knew exactly how to angle her hips, the right speed at which to sheath him to the hilt to make the groans curdling in his throat bubble over until his voice was echoing throughout the throne room. Her moans melded with his, curling down his spine and making him shiver. He could barely stand to tear his eyes from her face, her brow creased as she rode him like the absolute goddess he knew her to be. Her hair was coming loose from her braid, her skin flushed from the bridge of her nose to the tips of her ears. When he did deviate from her face it was to stare at her breasts, gently bouncing behind their silken cage that he found himself quietly cursing for keeping them from him. For the time being, he satisfied his lust for them with hefty squeezes, enjoying the sighs that fell from her lips with each touch through the smooth fabric.

“I'm not going to last if you keep that up,” he groaned low in his throat. She was riding him at such a sporadic pace, hips rocking back only to snap forward just as quick as they had come. A wide grin spread across her face, and her eyes opened halfway to look at him under heavy lids.

“That's the point,” she teased through a heavy breath.

“You don't -” he stopped, a groan interrupting his train of thought momentarily, before continuing. “You don't want me to last longer?”

“You can make up for it later,” said with a breathy laugh. “Do you want me to slow down?”

“Maker, no.” He grinned. His hands slid to her rear as she sped up. It was maddening how good it felt. It was like something out of a fantasy, his Queen riding him on the throne. The only thing missing was the lack of clothes and a more comfortable chair. Alistair's eyes closed, his brow creasing upwards as his grip tightened on her rear. His arms pulled at her, encouraging her breakneck pace. His mouth hung open, his muscles tightening, and then he simply popped. Alistair's fingers dug into her, holding her flush against him as his groans echoed throughout the throne room. He gasped with every pulse of his cock inside of her, his body slouching further down the throne as his heart raced. His hands slid up her back, arms wrapping around her as he felt her slump against him.

“I can't move,” she mumbled tiredly against his chest.

“Do you think anyone else has fucked on the throne before?” He asked with a chuckle.

“I don't know,” Lana laughed, her breath not quite caught just yet. “Maybe if this throne was more comfortable, we would have heard about it.”

“Is it not?”

“My knees are saying no.”

“I hardly noticed. My rear went numb hours ago.”

Alistair had the largest grin on his face, feeling the happiest he had that entire day. He wasn't sure if he should worry that none of the guards had come running at the amount of noise they had been making, but he couldn't be bothered to think on it more than that.

A problem for another day, he told himself.

#kinktober #alistair theirin #king alistair #suranistair #queen surana #lana surana #dragon age #dragon age au #my ocs #fanfiction #my work

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

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Kinktober Day 3

Happy day 3 of Kinktober! There are still two open spots for this month, so if you want to get in a suggestion check out the current list and send em my way! <3

HUGE thanks as always to everyone who likes/reblogs. It’s always nice to be able to see how much people enjoy my writing, plus reblogs help greatly with visibility and encourage me to do more of this!

Today’s prompt is brought to you by the following prompt submission: “Either Surana/Lavellan having an ear kink. Like, they have super sensitive ears. A few casual strokes and they cum. So Alistair/Cullen finds out their secret in public. In a room full of people.” I chose Alistair and my Surana for this one, because it was just too perfect for them. This was something I could see easily happening in my canon, and something Alistair would be absolutely thrilled to discover, so I rolled with it! Enjoy! <3

It was late. They had arrived in the small town on the way to Denerim after sunset, Lana's feet aching and Wynne reaching a rare level of grumpiness. With their rations running low, Alistair’s promise of an inn with food and actual beds had encouraged them to walk the extra two hours to the town.

“Does there exist a stew in your cities that is not completely void of greens?” Morrigan sighed with a grimace on her face as she stirred her spoon in a still mostly filled bowl. They had all grabbed a table at the inn after securing rooms, food and drinks eagerly ordered and somewhat enjoyed by most.

“It may be best to not insult the food the inn has provided while we have yet to sleep,” Wynne warned Morrigan as she carefully scooped stew with her spoon.

“Besides, what's wrong with grey blobs? I thought you liked grey blobs.” Alistair pointed his spoon accusingly at Morrigan. His face was tinged slightly pink, having had accepted Oghren’s challenge to mixing the inn provided ale with Oghren's personal bottle of - well, Alistair hadn't been quite certain of what resided within the brown bottle Oghren had produced from his pouch, only that it stung and had gone straight to his head.

“I have certainly never said anything of the sort,” Morrigan scoffed. She furrowed her brows in disgust as Oghren loudly slurped down the rest of his ale next to her and slammed it down on the table.

“I'm just thankful we get to sleep in actual beds tonight,” Lana said. With her feet off the ground, her mind was able to focus on the aches in her back that came from months of sleeping on various lumpy terrain with only their thin bedrolls to cradle them. A dreamy look flirted over her face for a moment as she daydreamed about being able to sleep on a thicker mattress, when Oghren's deep, incessant laughter quickly wiped the look from her.

“Don't know how much sleep you'll be getting if you spend all night polishing the bedpost,” he rumbled.

“Is that all you ever think about?” Leliana asked.

“It’d be all you think about if your tent always got stuck so close to theirs…”

“Oh, you're going to embarrass them,” Wynne said sweetly with a smile.

“Polishing the bedpost. This is not one I have heard before,” Zevran said.

“No? How about this one…”

Lana smiled as she felt Alistair's hand near her temple, his touch distracting her while the others continued talking. A small lock of her hair had dislodged from her braid sometime during the evening, and he dutifully began sliding it back into place with a lopsided grin. Heat rushed to her face, her eyes closing in bliss as his index finger and thumb stroked up the length of her ear with the lock of hair. A whimper settled in her throat which she tried to choke down rather unsuccessfully. It felt like electricity running through her, her body twitching as he met the long tip and tucked back the loose hair. An ache had settled between her legs, her heart beating heavily as her ears all but flattened against the sides of her head.

“Oh? Are your ears that sensitive?” Alistair asked. He had noticed a slight reaction from her in the past when his fingers had happened to touch her ears, when the pressure from holding the side of her face when they kissed had made her practically melt into his arms. He had caught wind of the suppressed whimper, the twitch of her ears from the touch. The same lopsided grin plastered on his face, he brought his hand up once more. Lana glanced at the others quickly, relieved to see that they were still deep in conversation and hadn't noticed her initial reaction. Her eyes widened as he stroked her ear again, this time with more firm of a touch, cupping the top of her ear at the base and stroking it to the tip. Her body tensed, hand gripping the edge of the table as her hips rocked forward of her own accord. Maker, if he kept doing that she would be in trouble. Her body was tensed in anticipation, her ears betraying her and flexing slightly outwards as if calling to him in spite of her horror. She quickly opened her mouth as she saw his elbow gear up for one more stroke out of the corner of her eye.

“Alista-air!” His name barely fell from her lips when as hand slid up to the tip of her ear once more and undid her with a slow, firm stroke, the rest of his name spilling from her mouth in a sudden, salacious gasp. She slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the cries she couldn't manage to hold down as her body shook. Maker, it felt so good. Wave after wave of pleasure poured over her, stemming from the tip of her ear and flowing down to her toes. Her muscles flexed on the way down each time, her body rocking with each wave as her heart pounded against her chest. Lana's body gave one last twitch, a whimper bubbling in her throat as Alistair's fingers finally slipped from the tip of her ear, having held it throughout her orgasm out of shock.

For a moment, Lana contemplated not opening her eyes in hopes that she would wake up and it would have all been a dream. The table had gone silent. The entire inn had become void of any noise, even the bard near the hearth pausing her song. Slowly, the sound of singing started up again, chatter around them growing once more, and Lana slowly opened her eyes to find her friends staring at her with a myriad of looks: confusion, concern, even a bit of excitement. Alistair seemed to be at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing like a marionette without a voice.

“I… I should get to bed.” Lana quickly stood, her face red as a beet as her friends continued to say not a word. “It's been… Been a long day, and…”

She nearly tripped over her own feet as she practically ran from the table, thanking the Maker on the way to her and Alistair's room that her armor was long enough to hide how she had soaked right through her smalls.

“Lana!” Alistair had run after her, carefully shutting the door to their room behind him. “What was - Did I - Did you -?”

“Sweet Andraste, I can't believe that happened in front of everyone,” she mumbled into her hands as she sunk onto the bed.

“I would say it happens to everyone, but… Maker, I'm sorry, love. If I had known… Why didn't you tell me?” He asked as he sat next to her.

“It's only happened once,” Lana sighed. She dropped her hands into her lap as Alistair kissed the side of her face. “I did it on accident years ago. My ear was itching while I was in the Circle chapel…”

“You orgasmed while praying to the Maker? Naughty girl,” Alistair teased. He smiled as Lana laughed, thankful that her embarrassment didn't seem to be lasting long. He did feel bad for causing such a scene for her, but this new found knowledge was too intriguing for him to ignore. He eyed her long, slender ear closest to him with interest, his tongue jutting out to lick his bottom lip. “How many times does it work? I mean, if you keep stroking them, does it just… Keep happening?”

“I… Don't know,” she said sheepishly, tugging at the end of her braid. Her face reddened as Alistair scooted closer, their legs pressed up against each other as he cupped her chin in his large hand. He tilted her face upwards as his other hand gently rested at the nape of her neck. Lana shivered, melting into his touch as his thumb gently stroked her earlobe as a wide grin grew on his face.

“Mind if I find out?”

#kinktober #dragon age #dragon age origins #alistair theirin #alistair x warden #alistair x surana #suranistair #lana surana #my ocs #fanfiction #my work

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

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21. “First one to make a noise loses.” 👀👀

@andrasste Thank you so much for the prompt, lovely! And the first smut prompt sent to me, as well! ;D This prompt just sounded like such an Alistair thing to suggest, so sending a little Alistair/Surana smutty goodness your way!

Obviously, this is NSFW, so the majority of it will be behind a cut. Use your discretion if smut makes you uncomfy~

21. “First one to make a noise loses.” From the Smut Prompts list. Pairing: Alistair Theirin/Lana Surana. NSFW.

“Care to play a game?”

“A game?” The words left Lana’s mouth in confusion. She and Alistair were walking through the dense forest towards the river to collect water for their group. The river wasn’t far, perhaps a five or ten minute walk, but Alistair had insisted that he and Lana save the others the trip. It didn’t seem long enough a trip for much of a game, but she’d bite. “What did you have in mind?”

“I-spy’s been a bit over-done, I suppose…” He grinned as Lana let out a sarcastic gasp, the game of sight usually the first one Alistair reverted to when on the road. “How about… First one to make a noise loses?”

“You mean if I snapped a branch I’d lose?” She asked.

“No, not a sneaking game. Just… You know, if you say anything, or make a noise. That sort of thing.”

“Isn’t that a game you have children play when you want them to be quiet?”

Alistair was silent in thought for a moment as he stepped over a pile of fallen branches before letting out a long, “Oooh,” as if something in his childhood had suddenly made sense.

“Well… I suppose, if you don’t want to, we could do I-spy -”

“No, the quiet one is fine,” Lana quickly interrupted with a laugh, eager for something new. She paused, looking up at Alistair. “Are there any rules? Besides not making any noises.”

“No tickling,” Alistair said quickly, pointing his finger at her accusingly as she smiled innocently. “Other than that, I suppose not. What should we wager? Loser has to… streak naked through camp?”

“You’re joking,” Lana laughed. She grimaced as she saw the wide grin on his face. “Maker… Can it at least be at night?”

“Yes. But, not when everyone is asleep!”

“Fine,” she sighed, not able to suppress the smile on her face before it fell as the full weight of what she had agreed to sunk in. She opened her mouth to attempt another negotiation, but Alistair began first:

“Aaaand, start!”

Lana paused, opening her mouth once more to object, when Alistair looked down at her expectantly and she knew she was trapped in the game. She let out a silent sigh as she focused on ahead. They were silent but for their footsteps, focused on the forest and the brush. Out of the corner of her eye Lana watched Alistair’s hand reach for her, and she quickly smacked it away. Alistair quietly scowled at her guard which had instantly come up since their game began, though the smirk on his face told her she had made the right move. Alistair tried to slow down, speed up, anything he could do to get close enough to her to startle her into making a noise, but she was watching him too closely. At one point he had slipped on the ground, eyes wide as he scrambled to steady his footing. When he had regained his balance, silence still maintained, he looked beneath his feet where there was a thin layer of ice. He looked quickly at Lana accusingly, his mouth moving silently as he pointed at the ice, as if she had broken some unspoken rule of the game. Lana simply smiled, shrugging as she continued walking towards the river. He had never said no magic, after all.

Lana bit her tongue as she felt his hand grab hers, pulling her quickly towards him as he leaned down low to kiss her. It took all her control to not sigh, and he knew it. He knew that it was her first response, how his fingers curling into the back of her braid while his tongue ran along her lower lip made her want to moan no matter where they were. She swallowed hard as she bit down the sounds that threatened to spill. But his hand was sliding up her side, groping at her through her padded armor, and her resolve threatened to wash away like melted ice. She quickly reasoned with herself, of what lengths she would go to, what personal lines she would cross to not make a sound. Running naked through camp. Maker, she couldn’t do it.

Face red with her decision, Lana bit down her inhibitions, assuring herself that they were the only ones there as she kissed him back just as fiercely. Alistair, too focused on working his way through each touch he knew made her whimper and moan in the past, barely noticed her small hands between them that were making quick work of his belt buckle. When her hands planted firmly on his chest and shoved him back, he smirked, thinking she had just been on the edge of losing, when suddenly she leapt forward, grabbing the edge of his breeches and smalls and falling to her knees as she pulled them down with her.

Alistair slammed his back against a tree, needing the jolt to keep down the groan that threatened to spill from his throat as she plunged his length into her mouth. She wasn’t wasting time, bobbing along his cock as it rapidly hardened in her mouth. It was unfair. She was too sweet, she wasn’t supposed to result to a public display of this degree to make him lose at his own game. Thousands of thoughts rushed through his mind as her sweet, hot mouth glided along his length, thoughts of how he would have to later chastise her for being such a wicked, dirty woman who would lick and suck on his cock in the middle of the forest.

Reward her is more likely, he knew.

He had to bite his tongue, clench his teeth and focus on his breathing as he hit the back of her throat. He had simply been trying to break her resolve with kisses, but, Maker, she knew how to play him like a fiddle. He had no idea how he was supposed to survive this. If she got him to the end - and she would, she always did - then it would be over for him. He did not want to be the one to run naked through camp, and he was very quickly regretting his decision to make that the punishment for losing. He was not losing.

Lana looked up as she felt Alistair’s hand on the back of her head, taking a large fistful of braid to keep her in place as he popped out of her. He leaned down, grabbing her by the waist as he pulled her to stand. Lana’s mind told her to run; she knew she couldn’t win if he was going to do what she knew he was working on getting to as he rucked up the skirt of her armor to tear at the laces on her breeches. Then there was the part of her that had been so quickly switched on by the taste of him in her mouth, of the anticipation of the feeling of him slipping into her just as quickly as she had slid her mouth around him. Her breeches were at her boots before she knew it, Alistair shimmying between her legs and lifting her before he spun around and pressed her against the tree.

Her resolve to keep him far away from her during this game was already long gone. She had braced herself, biting her tongue hard and holding her breath as he sunk his cock into her. Alistair let out a long, silent, heavy breath, evidently having prepared himself for the moment the same as she. Maker, but she felt so good, and he stretched and filled her in just the right way. It was an even match, now, and the winner could just as easily be either of them. Lana’s fingers gripped him at the shoulders, digging into the padded blue armor as he thrust into her. She had to keep her eyes closed, hold her breath on more than one occasion as he angled her hips in a way that made her toes curl in her boots. Maker, he was trying to make her cum. It hit her suddenly as her eyes open and she found him watching her expectantly, pupils dilated but watching her with the kind of focus of a man who was determined to have her cum first so that she would lose. She swallowed, eyes rolling back slightly before she forced them to focus on him. She could feel her body tightening, and she knew from his increased pace that he knew it as well. Maker, he was going to do it. He knew how loud she was when she came, that she wouldn’t be able to control it. A wave of desperation washed over her as she grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled. His head rolled back with a wide smirk, seemingly wise to her attempt. And then, his eyes widened, and he gasped, loud, as her freezing hand touched his waist beneath his tunic, shoving himself into her as he jerked from her touch. It pushed him over the edge, and he came, groaning and gasping as he gripped the trunk of the tree for purchase. Alistair desperately tried to catch his breath, widening his stance for balance as she began laughing with victory.

“You cheated!” The accusation came as a hefty breath from him.

“You never said anything about using magic, otherwise you would have called foul the first time I used it!” Lana closed her eyes, a grin on her face as he gently bit at her collarbone.

“So unfair,” he murmured against her skin as he kissed her neck. He burrowed his face amongst her neck, expelling a long sigh as her arms wrapped tightly around his neck to hold him close.

“What do I win?” She asked.

“Win? You already get to see me streak through camp! What more could you possibly want?”

“Yes, but everyone gets to share in that joyous occasion,” she laughed.

“You’ll get your dues, woman!” He grumbled as he set her down and pulled up his breeches. Lana began to do the same when Alistair grabbed her hands and pulled them against the tree. He shook his head with a mischievous look that made her heart pound as he slid to his knees. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet… Your turn, I believe?”

#andrasste #alistair theirin #alistair x warden #alistair x surana #suranistair #dragon age #dragon age origins #fanfiction #writing prompts #lemons #my ocs #my fics #my work

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darlingrutherford · 5 years

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Once Upon a Time in Thedas

Oops, I went and posted the first chapter of my Cinderella!AU, because I can’t help myself. First chapter is a short one to set the scene. This fic may move rather quickly for the main bit of it, but I have every full intention of expanding on it after the main bit is done. This is a bit out of my comfort zone and rather different from what I usually write, so please be kind! Also, tagging @schoute because I promised ;) And, enjoy! <3

Trigger warnings for this series for mentions and scenes of mental/physical abuse.

Once upon a time, there lived a young elf named Lana. She lived with her mother and father on the outskirts of Denerim in a small cottage surrounded by trees and brush. Denerim was a large city in Ferelden, home to many different kinds of people: humans, elves, even the occasional dwarf or two who had come to the city looking to trade. Shops of all kinds paved the city: apothecaries, smiths, inns, even a few rarities shops run by mages who had managed to scrape their way to a better living despite their Maker-given gifts. Being a mage wasn’t considered a blessing by many. They could be dangerous, unpredictable. As such, the Chantry kept a close watch on all mages, requiring them to live within a city limit so that the Templars could keep an eye on them. Circles existed to contain any mage deemed too dangerous or those who would refuse to abide by Chantry rule, but those who kept quiet and to themselves could live a simple life.

Lana had come into her magic at the age of eight, much to the displeasure of her parents. There had been an argument, one started in a moment of hot headedness when Lana had questioned her mother. When the back of her mother’s hand made contact with her face, ice had sprung from Lana’s fingertips and frozen the floorboards beneath her feet. That was the day Lana sustained her first scars: one, on her forearm from a knife her mother had swung at her in anger, and another, a small knick close to her left eye, just before her father had forced the knife from her hand. Lana had spent three days in her parent’s dark hall closet while they argued and ultimately decided, with council from the local Chantry, what to do with her. Since that day ten years ago, Lana had been confined to their home. Her parents were devout Andrastians. They were ashamed of having a mage be of their blood, and wished nothing more than for all of Denerim to forget that Lana even existed. And, for some time, they did.

All her days after that frightful, fateful moment had been spent focusing on the Chant, taking care of their home, and trying to suppress the magic inside of her. Lana did the best she could. Some days she woke up with her pillow cold as ice, or a flame would spark from her fingertips when she was having trouble lighting the hearth. Each time a panic would set in deep in her gut, and after a quick look to ensure neither of her parents had seen, she would carefully remove any evidence and pray to the Maker to make it stop while she atoned throughout the day.

Each day began the same for Lana: she would wake just before the sun to recite from the Chant, brush out her hair, and braid it in a simple, tight braid that her mother preferred her to wear. Then she would dress before quietly making her way into the kitchen. Breakfast would be complete by the time her parents woke, hot tea heated on the hearth and not by magic to be on the table waiting. The three of them would sit at the table, say a morning prayer from the Chant before their meal, and eat in silence. Occasionally there would be a harsh remark from one of her parents: her mother would remind her to sit up straight; her father would remind her of something she missed in her chores the day before, which her mother would reprimand her for later. Then Lana would clear the table, clean the dishes, and work on sweeping the house if the sun was out. Her parents would sit at the table, and Lana would take her time sweeping while they discussed the happenings about Denerim as of late. She would listen eagerly as she worked, wanting to soak in everything they said. Later she would take what she heard, sit at her windowsill, and daydream about life in Denerim for those without magic.

In her daydreams, she thought of the bustle of the city, all the sounds and all the different people who would be there. She thought of the shops, the different types of trade found throughout that made Denerim the city it was. She had seen the Royal Palace once, when she was much younger, from the outside as she walked quickly at her father's side on their way to the market. Its gates had seemed so large at the time, stone walls surrounding it but not quite containing the sound of those running back and forth about their daily duties from within. Every so often Lana would imagine what it would be like to wander the city again, with someone else at her side, someone other than her father; someone she could walk hand in hand with, when they could walk leisurely without rush. As her face would flush from the thought, she would pull herself from the dream. That's all it was, after all. Just a dream. Who in their right mind would love a mage?

Lana’s days weren’t entirely filled with chores. She had become quite proficient at them, and as such was able to afford a good amount of her day to reciting the Chant as her parents preferred for her. They allowed her to choose where she spent that time, as long as it was within their small property. Between her bedroom and the small garden that surrounded their home, Lana found her peace. When the sun hit her face, Lana felt she could breathe again. No matter how the day had been, as long as she had behaved herself, she had the sun. Even when confined to her room when her mother had decided it was needed, Lana’s window faced West, and the sun always found her. On a day such as today, when Lana had made her mother happy with her - as much as a mage could - she found herself on her knees in the garden near her window, the sun warming her face as she recited the Chant.

“...’So the Maker turned from his firstborn and took from the Fade a measure of its living flesh and placed it apart from the Spirits, and spoke to it, saying, ‘Here, I decree opposition in all things: For earth, sky; For winter, summer -’”

“‘For darkness, Light.’”

“Sister Leliana!” Lana rose from the ground as she heard the light voice of the Chantry Sister. As an established mage in Denerim, the Chantry kept a close watch on Lana. Traveling from Lothering, Sister Leliana had been assigned to her for going on a year then, after Lana’s last Sister had taken a missionary sabbatical to the Free Marches. The Sister would check up on her twice a week, and Lana often found herself clinging to the opportunity to see the face of someone other than her parents. “Is it Tuesday already?”

“No, it is Monday,” Leliana said with a smile. “I will have special business tomorrow that will keep me from you. I thought it best to stop by and see how you are doing.”

“I should tell my -”

“I already spoke with your mother,” Leliana said. She smiled as Lana visibly relaxed at her reassurance. “How have you been since I last saw you?”

“Very well, thank you,” Lana said. Leliana waved her hand and walked to the edge of the garden near a tall oak tree, and Lana followed. They sat in the shade, elbows close to one another.

“How are you really?” Leliana asked, her voice lower than before. She took Lana’s hand, turning it over to observe a fresh scar near her elbow. “They don’t listen to us talk, you know. Out here, it’s just the two of us.”

“It’s fine. I… I upset her,” Lana said quietly. “I accidentally used… I shocked her when she grabbed me.”

“I see.” Leliana was quiet for a moment as Lana fidgeted with the end of her braid. Her braid was the same always, and this day was no different: close to her head, beginning on one side near her temple and ending on the other at the nape of her neck, not a hair out of place. The sun glimmered off her red strands, glittering like fire in the light that filtered through the branches of the tree.

“How are things in Denerim?” Lana asked, trying her best to not sound too eager.

“You are in Denerim too, you know,” Leliana said with a knowing smile.

“I know,” Lana laughed quietly. “It’s just… it’s so quiet here.”

“You heard they chose a new King a month ago?”

“I did, yes.” Lana’s face lit up, as it always did whenever she and Leliana spoke about anything new. Reciting the Chant and speaking of the Maker with the Sister was wonderful and all, but Lana yearned for the world outside their home more than anything. It was a world she felt she would never know, despite its closeness, and she wished more than anything to live vicariously through the Sister as much as she could.

“He was crowned this past week,” Leliana said. “He will have to find a Queen soon, I assume.”

“Should be easy for royalty. I can’t imagine any woman would say no to a life of living in a castle. Can you imagine?”

“Would you say yes?” Leliana teased.

“Don’t be ridiculous, why would I be asked?” Lana flushed, then horror washed over her face. “I’m so sorry, Sister, I didn’t mean to say that you are -”

“I know what you meant,” Leliana reassured her. “It will be our little secret. Now then… Which part of the Chant would you like to discuss today?”

Lana and Sister Leliana spoke to one another for a few hours. Lana always appreciated how much time Leliana took with her. The other Sisters had been content with an hour here or there, but Sister Leliana seemed to genuinely sympathize with Lana's life, and Lana's parents would never question a Sister of the Chantry. By the time Sister Leliana had left on her way, the sun had begun to fall and Lana rushed inside to help her mother in the kitchen.

“Don't think that you can shirk your duties just because Sister Leliana was with you today,” her mother warned.

“Yes, mother, of course,” Lana said. She quickly grabbed a pot from above the stove and went about lighting the wood below the stove.

“What did you two discuss today?”

“We spoke of Threnodies, and the Maker's creation of the world.” Lana grabbed a knife from the table, trying to make quick work of the potatoes. She turned them in her hand, trying to peel quickly with the sharp knife.

“For three hours?” Her mother scoffed. “You had better be able to recite it backwards to me after - now look at what you've done! If you've bled on the potatoes…”

Lana dropped the knife, holding her bleeding finger tightly in her hand. She angled her hand away from the table, quickly scanning her eyes and feeling relief wash over when she saw no blood on the table. She felt warm for a moment, and then the pain in her hand almost melded into nothing. Her mother grabbed her injured hand, tearing it towards her face and Lana's stomach opened like a pit. Her finger was stained in blood, but the offending wound had closed as if it were a week old. In her panic, she had worried of the wound itself offending her mother and she had healed it. An eerie silence broke over the home, the calm before the storm as time seemed to stop. She could see the red rushing to her mother's face, could feel time speeding up. Lana began speaking quickly, her brain racing.

“I didn't - I didn't mean to -”

“Do not talk to me after you did that… unholy thing in my house!”

Lana audibly winced as her mother grabbed her by the long point of her ear. She had to bend low to offset the pain as her feet quickly followed her mother's. She strained to look up, her stomach sinking and panic setting in as she saw them heading straight towards the closet.

“Mother, please, I swear on the Maker I didn't mean to -”

“I don't want to hear a sound from you until I open this door again!” Her mother yelled as she opened the door. Lana stumbled forward, grabbing at the wall for balance as she hit it. She turned around as the door slammed shut behind her. She could hear the lock turn as her mother forcefully turned the key, then the sound of her feet stomping away in anger, before silence took over.

The closet was dark. It had always been dark, pitch black, and empty for this use and this alone. Lana couldn't see her shadow as she slid down against the wall. It was tight and, even as small as she was, she couldn't stretch out her legs. Normally her mother would punish any regular transgressions with a pinch, a bruise, something quick and then leave Lana to her room. The closet was reserved for magic, for when Lana went against the very stringent rules that her parents expected her to abide by in order to live in their presence. Lana had spent many hours in the closet when she was younger, when controlling the magic had been harder. Sometimes it was hours, sometimes a day, always dark, and alone. As she grew she had become better at suppressing the magic, but, occasionally, it took her by surprise, as it had that day. She shook against the wall in the darkness, knowing that when she finally did see the light again there would be hell to pay. Making noise would make it worse. It would make her mother leave her in there for longer if she heard, make the eventual punishment more terrible than it already would be. Lana hugged her knees close to her chest, burying her face against her legs. She cried silently, her lips moving as she recited the Chant barely above a whisper in hopes that the Maker would hear:

“Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and d - do not falter… Blessed a - are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just… Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow... In their… In their blood... the Maker's will is written.”

#dragon age #cinderella au #surana #alistair theirin #suranistair #alistair x surana #lana surana #my ocs #fanfiction #my fics #my work #ao3

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