No Armor Against Fate (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Reunion

She turned from the window as she heard the soft knock on the door. "Come in," she said tonelessly, trying to prepare herself for anything.

He stepped inside, looking mostly uncomfortable. She couldn't tell what was beneath it. "Hello."

"You're still here," she said.

"Did you think I would leave without telling you?"

"I didn't know what you would do."

"I love you. You know that. I couldn't have done that to you."

"And I love you—so much." The words spilled forth in a rush. "It nearly broke my heart to have to leave like that. I never meant to hurt you, or to make you feel like I didn't trust you. I just thought ... I'm so sorry, Alistair. So very sorry."

"I know. I understand. Really, I do." He spread his hands out helplessly before him. "It's just once more in a lifetime of people making my decisions for me without stopping to ask me how I feel, or what I think. I never expected that from you, of all people."

"What would you have done, if I'd told you?"

"Abdicated. Or insisted the Landsmeet accept you as queen and our baby as the royal heir."

"And how would that have gone?" she asked.

"Oh, badly. Quite badly, I'm sure." She was relieved to see him grin. "I'd have made a right mess of the whole kingdom. As it turns out, not telling me was probably the right thing to do for Ferelden. But it was the wrong thing for us."

"At the time there was no 'us'."

"We both know it's not really like that," he said softly. "Don't we? No matter what else happens, there's always an 'us'. My heart belongs to you, and it always will." Alistair swallowed hard, seeing the tear that spilled down her cheek. He held his arms out to her and with a cry of relief she ran to him. After a long moment he said, "Thora?"

She leaned back to look up at his face.

"As far as I'm concerned, this is all behind us. You did what you thought was right." He took a deep breath. "But never again. From now on, we need to make our decisions together. Promise me."

"I promise."

One big hand stroked her short crop of red-gold hair as he went down on one knee before her. His other hand hovered just above her belly. "May I?" he asked in a whisper.

"Please." Her voice quivered. She'd dreamed of this moment so many times.

His hand gently settled on the rounded curve of her stomach. "Do you think I'll be able to feel him move?"

"I think she's not big enough yet."

Alistair caught the pronoun. He grinned at her. "Two sovereigns says it's a boy."

"Done!" Their eyes met. The heat she felt in his gaze melted through her and she twined her arms around his neck. He gave a surprised moan as her mouth met his, then his arms moved around her, clutching her to him as they kissed feverishly.

Breathing hard, he took her by the shoulders, holding his hands still with difficulty. "Is it— Is it safe?" he asked raggedly.

"Safe?" she repeated blankly, her hands sliding under his shirt to feel the smooth skin and rigid muscles she had missed so much. "Oh, safe! Yes, Wynne says it should be fine."

"Did you ask her?"

"She came in before you arrived and 'happened' to slip that little tidbit into the conversation." Thora grinned. "She's come a long way from lecturing me about what a bad idea this is."

He caressed her belly, laughing. "I think she figures it's much too late for us to get that message." Alistair slid his hands under her tunic, pushing it up and over her head. He swallowed, staring at her curves, both remembered and new. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his hands tracing what his eyes were devouring.

Thora caught her breath, all the familiar sensations making her head swim. "What about your wi— queen?" she asked.

His mouth sought out the hollow of her throat, moving slowly up her neck. "I'm not married yet. I've made no vows to break," he said firmly. "I'm free to do what I ... like." His hands sought and found long-remembered sensitive spots.

Moaning, Thora allowed him to push her gently back onto the bed. "We have a lot to talk about," she said, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him to her.

"Tomorrow," he murmured in her ear. "Or the next day." Which sounded fine to her as he stripped off his own clothes and joined her—at last—in the bed.