[One-Shot] Moonlight
Title: Moonlight
Author: kryss_delrhei
Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Type: Video Game
Characters/Pairing: Alistair/Solona
Word Count: 1,281
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG-13
Warning: voyeurism, slight nsfw
Summary: Heady desire and a longing that is hidden in the bushes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age nor the characters, just borrowing them from BioWare for a little while.
Author's Notes: Late night with nothing but the game and the ideas that eat away at my brain.
Prompt: a_writing_muse : #06 - Writer's Choice : Table 10-A
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“Who’s there?”
The calm spoken words sliced the silence as Alistair’s face molted red from embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to stumble across the mage while she bathed. In all honesty, he hadn’t even known she’d already left the camp. He’d been off gathering a few herbs and firewood to last through the night, when the Maker just had him happen upon her.
“Oh, Maker’s breath…” he cursed and stayed hidden amongst the bushes, though he knew it was idiotic to do so in the first place. He hugged the stack of wood he’d gathered in his arms as he peaked through the leaves, his face heating up all the more.
She was gorgeous under the moonlight, her naked skin as pale as alabaster, glistening damply with water. Solona had ducked under the water when he’d first made the mistake of making too much noise, startling not only her, but himself as well. Slowly she’s surfaced, her arms clamped tightly over her chest.
“Hello?” Her voice was hesitate, so soft and inviting. Alistair bit the inside of his cheek so that he wouldn't make any more noise save from the slight whimper.
A large rock formation hid most of the stream out of his view, but he could see she had him pinned down with those heady sapphire eyes of hers. Alistair’s heart pounded so hard in his chest, his head hurt from the feel of it beating with the pumping of blood in his system.
Maybe she hadn’t exactly… gotten a look at him…
He swallowed and leaned forward tediously, as his eyes searched through the leaves, before his golden irises found her again.
“Maker preserve me…”
Alistair whimpered under his breath, his eyes shooting to his hairline.
Solona was now standing in the stream, the water slowly trickling along her hips, the moonlight dancing overhead, causing its reflection in the water to swirl and kiss at the mage’s skin. Her arms were now crossed lazily, her soft mounds sat atop her arms, barely covered in her indecency.
Alistair’s jaw almost went slack, though he could feel the beginnings of a sinful pleasure arise in the pits of his belly, the warm tingle surging throughout his body. He stiffened his posture, unable to look away from the gorgeous nymph he’d stumbled upon.
Her curled chestnut hair was slicked with water, cascading down her back, the ends tickling the water’s surface. She glanced about the forest line again, but returned her gaze to the rock formation half shielded with a thicket of bushes. The exact spot where Alistair hid with all his might, fighting the growing urge that was beginning to swell against his leather trousers.
He had been holding so furiously to the pile of wood in his arms, the rough edges biting into his chest through his simple longshirt, that he vaguely forgot why he’d come out into the forest in the first place. Alistair’s golden eyes scanned what he could from his vantage point, Solona’s body almost simply glowing in the moonlight, so much that the bulge in his trousers twitched deliciously when the mage parted her lips, intent on saying something.
“Is someone there?” She craned her head, the line of her neck elicited a soft whimper from him, just as he lost his grip on the wood he’d been holding onto.
The wood crashed from his arms and knocked each other as they landed unceremoniously on the ground in loud thunks. Solona gasped loudly and crouched back in the water, her chin barely ghosting the top of the water.
Alistair cursed, possibly a little to loudly, and ducked down, hiding himself against the rock formation. “Oh Maker…” he swallowed and closed his eyes, clucking at his chest with a hand to stop the rapid beating of his poor heart.
“… Alistair…” Solona asked the silence of the forest. Alistair could hear the soft splashing of water and he knew she had risen again, possibly even taken a few steps in the stream, closer to where he was hiding.
Why hadn’t he just went back to camp instead of peeping in on his fellow Grey Warden. This wasn’t what he should have done. No, that was something that they would have found Zevran doing, not the tender hearted Alistair. He swallowed, whimpering as his restricted erection throbbed harder at the thought of the mage bathed in moonlight, his name a whisper on her lips.
He lowered his hand, shifting quietly on the ground so that he wasn’t quite in as much pain, his fingers covering over his bulging trousers that pushed back against his hand, aching for some kind of release. Alistair swallowed and leaned his head back on the rocks, his breathing a flurry of short breaths, mingling of embarrassment and arousal. Images of the mage kissed by moonlight burned in his memory as he closed his eyes.
Alistair licked his lips and parted his mouth hesitantly as his hand mindlessly tugged at the drawstrings, unlacing them so that his erection could spring free, the tip of head peeking past the hood of his skin. He whimpered and stared at himself, watching pearlescent liquid bead up at the slit. He trembled and grasped ahold of himself, whimpering under his breath. He stroked himself, spreading his legs a little further in the confines of his leather trousers, the gliding skin elicited a soft gasp, he hoped Solona didn’t hear.
This wasn’t what he should be doing.
No, especially not thinking of Solona of all people.
A fellow Grey Warden. A circle mage.
A delicate flower that had blossomed in their travels. Her lips so tender and kissable looking, the way her body was only accentuated by the robes she wore, the way she cooed him for being so childish and silly.
Alistair swallowed, his motions growing quick and fast.
Maker’s breath, to have her hot breath against his neck, her tiny body pressed against him in the most illicit of ways the chantry would forbid between a once templar and a mage. Alistair panted, his hip twitched upward, thrusting into his hand as he arched his back, leaning his head back.
Oh, the thoughts that danced behind his eyeslids, his body filling with a tingling rush, as he felt the power of the knot in his belly grow. He stroked harder, faster, liquid beading up and licking the shaft of his erection as it slid down to mingle in the forest of golden hair. His whole body felt on fire, a finalization, a realization all crashing down on him as he exploded in heavy breath he didn't realize he’d been holding, his seed shooting and falling short along his leather trousers and the dirt floor, sliding across the back of his hand as he dropped it to his side.
He panted quietly, shrugging back against the rock formation, resting as his head pounded with the want for more oxygen. Alistair’s eyes were lidded, lips parted, face flushed. He knew he shouldn't have, dirty it may have been, but his body could only be taunted so much. He rested there, wishing that Solona hadn’t heard any of his actions.
Solona splashed in the water, lowering herself back into the flowing stream, eyes never leaving the spot where she’d heard her peeper. The was water was chilled and she shivered, though not out of coldness, out of desperation and an yearning that she kept hidden so deep.
“Alistair?” She whispered, chewing on her bottom lip, before she raised her voice even as it wavered, “You can come join… me… if you’d like…”
As the trees swayed in the wind, she was rewarded with a quiet silence that left her empty.
Cross-Posted to: swooping_is_bad, a_writing_muse, circle_tower