When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Giving

After dinner, the lovers withdrew to their tent together. As Una dug around in her pack for her hairbrush, she heard Alistair's awkward "I have something to say but don't know how to" noises behind her. Smiling at him, she stood up. "Something you need, my dear?"

"It's just that I don't have anything to give you. I mean, I don't actually own anything myself—it's all more part of a collective inventory—except the things you've given me."

"For my birthday, you mean? Because that's really not necessary."

"I wish I could, though. Something truly worthy of you." His whole romantic heart was in his eyes.

"My darling, don't you know that you already have? You're the only birthday gift I could have wanted." Una took his hand.

It was such a sweet and wonderful and unbelievable thing for her to say that he wanted to say something in return that would be just as amazing. But he was Alistair, sayer of stupid things, and she scrambled his brains at the best of times, so what came out was, "Why?"

She just looked at him.

He knew this was his chance to salvage the moment, to say something that would make her understand what he meant. But instead, he said, "I mean, is it just because I'm ... here?" He could have happily marched outside and into the nearest nest of darkspawn when he saw her eyes widen and knew he had hurt her.

Una turned around, resuming the search for her hairbrush. "It's funny," she said conversationally. "When I was Lady Cousland of Highever—back when I wore fine clothes and bathed regularly—the only men who deigned to give me a second glance were the ones after my family's money and power. Now that I'm just Una the Grey Warden—clad in armor that's usually covered in blood and more or less unwashed—I seem to attract everyone's interest. Perth, Teagan, that cute guy with the Denerim guards, even Zev ... they've all made it quite obvious that they find something about me enticing." She turned to look at Alistair, her eyes cold with anger and disappointment. "So please, don't demean either of us by accusing me of having no other option."

He held up his hands. "I swear, that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Her tone made it clear that this better be good.

"It's just that ... I'm just Alistair, you know? I'm not a knight, or a Bann, or even a Captain. I don't have 'the sexy accent,'" he said, in a horrible parody of Zevran. "I don't really ... have anything."

"Actually," she broke in, "you do have quite a sexy accent."

"I do?"

"Oh, yeah."

He was glad to see she didn't look so mad now, and it was nice to think she found his accent sexy, but now he was all self-conscious about talking. "No one's ever seen anything ... special in me," he said. "Except Duncan. And I—I'm just not sure ..."

"If you can trust me?"

"It's not so much trust," he said. "It's more ... well, this has been like magic. What if I wake up tomorrow and it's all gone away just as magically and you—you're not mine anymore?"

Una looked into his miserable face, her heart melting. "I don't know," she said. "I plan to be yours pretty much forever, if that helps. I understand why you feel that way, and that my promising doesn't help that much. I guess you'll just have to trust me that I really do love you. You, Alistair, who are well worth loving. Until some day you wake up believing it. Can you do that?"

He thought trusting her sounded a lot better than the alternative. He nodded.

Una closed her eyes so he wouldn't see the irritation she knew must show in them. She knew why he was insecure, and didn't entirely blame him for it, but she had to admit she was getting tired of having to talk him into their relationship all the time.

Alistair saw the annoyance anyway, and cursed himself for being a babbling idiot. "I'm sorry," he said. He reached out, pulling her toward him. When she didn't resist, he said, "I don't suppose you'd let me ... make it up to you?" He slid his hand up her side, under her shirt, caressing her smooth skin.

"What did you have in mind?"

He brushed her hair back from her neck, nibbling gently. "I thought I might start off with this," he murmured.

"Doing good so far." She arched her neck.

"I have a few other ideas, as well, if you're interested." He slid his hands down her back, cupping her buttocks, pulling her against him.

Una sighed, clinging to him.

"I'll take that as a yes." He pushed her shirt aside, kissing her shoulder, while his fingers stroked the backs of her thighs. Una started to slide her own hand up under his shirt, but he caught it in his. "Nope. My turn this time." He slipped her shirt off over her head, and laid her gently down on the bedrolls. Alistair lay next to her, one hand stroking her stomach. Slowly it moved up her ribcage, sliding around her back to unfasten her breastband. He tossed the scrap of fabric over his shoulder and returned his hand to her body, cupping her breast. Rolling on top of her, settling himself between her legs, he took the other breast in his other hand, cupping and stroking the delicate flesh. Una shifted restlessly under him, trying to force her nipples into his hands. Bending down, he blew lightly on one. She moaned. He stroked his hands down her ribcage and across her stomach, taking first one nipple and then the other in his mouth, kissing and nibbling. Una arched her back, her hands tangled in his hair, holding his head to her. His hands skimmed beneath her waistband again, stroking the delicate skin of her inner thighs. Shifting, not removing his mouth from her breasts, he pushed her breeches and smallclothes down as she lifted her hips to let them slide over her curves.

"My turn yet?" she asked.

"Not tonight, my love," he said, settling back between her legs. His mouth moved slowly over her ribs and down across her stomach while his hands caressed her thighs. Then he lifted her legs, draping them over his shoulders, and she felt the soft, wet touch of his tongue between her legs. She gave a cry, arching up. "Shh," he said. "Do you want them to hear you?" Easier said than done, she thought. Then he put his mouth over her most sensitive spot, sucking gently then lightly scraping with his teeth, and she grabbed her pillow, pulling it over her face to try and muffle her moans. As his tongue and teeth continued to work on her, she felt a finger slide inside her. The sensation was absolutely incredible, and she felt herself spasming against him, her head spinning.

When her head cleared, he was lying next to her, his hands stroking her breasts, pinching her nipples very lightly. She arched again, still aroused. "And you wonder why you're the most perfect gift I could have asked for," she whispered, catching her breath as his hand dipped back between her legs, playing with her. "Where did you learn all this?"

"Natural skills," he murmured, his mouth at her neck again. She pushed herself against his hand. "I find you quite inspiring." He moved his fingers in a small circle at just the right spot.

Una whimpered. "Alistair."

"Mmm?"

"Please? I need you."

Without another word, he moved over her, sliding inside her with familiar ease. She moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist. They moved together rhythmically, tension rising inside them until it reached its peak and they clung to each other, panting.

She fell asleep first, curled against him, and he held her, watching her sleeping face in wonder, memorizing this moment ... just in case.