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Dragon Age Kiss Battle: Go!
Welcome to the 2014 Dragon Age Kiss Battle!
Any kind of kiss is welcome -- het, slash, femslash; shippy, familial, gen; cheek kisses, mouth kisses, kissing of... other things; serious, fluffy, silly, or all three at once; fanfic, fanart, whatever you come up with; anything goes!
The post is now open! I don't anticipate closing it, so come by any time!
THE RULES:
- To leave a request: Post a comment with character(s) and, if desired, a prompt. Put the pairing/character(s) in the subject line and the prompt in the body of the comment.
- To respond: Reply to the prompting comment. Include characters, rating, and title in the subject line. If your response includes content relating to Dragon Age: Inquisition, please also note that in the subject line.
- Multiple responses are both allowed and encouraged!
- There is no limit to the number of prompts you can post.
- Artwork can be posted inline, but try not to make it too large. Please link to images that are very large or NSFW.
- Please, be kind to others regarding pairing choices, prompts, or anything else. This game is for everyone! :)
- Anon commenting is on, as is OpenID, if you neither have nor want a Dreamwidth account.
- Send your friends! :D
If you have questions, please ask them here. Thanks, and happy kissing!!
Alistair/dwarf Warden
Re: Alistair/f!Brosca "What's Winter?"
"What? Have you ever licked a lamppost in Winter?" He was so proud of himself for deflecting her question. Alistair just hadn't quite expected to distract her so... well.
"What's Winter?" Brosca asked, scrunching her face up in that way she had, when she wasn't sure if she should know about something.
"Oh, of course! Orzammar doesn't have seasons, does it?" Alistair said loudly, eternally grateful that his companion had decided to stop pursuing the question of his Chantry upbringing and whether or not he'd... licked any lampposts.
"Seasons? Oh, seasons! I know about those. Duncan told me about them. Which one is Winter, again? The wet one or the cold one?" Natia tilted her head and raised her brows expectantly.
"Um, well, it's probably, usually both cold and wet, and not pleasant at all," Alistair said in a garbled rush.
"It's not Winter now, is it?" Natia asked, looking at the ominous bank of dark clouds gathering overhead, remembering many hard marches through muddy, rainy territories.
"No, not for another few months," Alistair replied. "Although that could be a wintry storm, if it turns as cold as I think it will."
"We can share a bedroll if it gets cold," Natia said dismissively. "Why would anyone lick a lamppost in Winter?"
Alistair groaned slightly, and gave her a pained, pleading look, that begged her not to continue her line of enquiry. Clearly, he needed to work on his pleading puppy-dog-eyes, because she just looked at him again. Looking at him that way, as if she was expecting an answer.
"It's a frequent dare among the trainees in the cold weather - you do know what dares are, I take it?"
"You've never been dared 'til a Duster dares you," Natia grinned. "Now, I double-damn-dare you to answer my original question."
Alistair rolled his eyes. "Fine," he heaved a sigh of long suffering. "To answer your original question... No. I haven't. I - the Chantry raised me to be a gentleman, especially around a beautiful woman, such as yourself. That's not... a bad thing, is it?"
Natia Brosca snorted at him, with an amused look in her eye. "I'm not beautiful. You want beautiful, I'll introduce you to Rica. She even knows how to play the lap harp."
"Why does a lap harp make her beautiful?" Alistair muttered.
"Shut up," she grumbled fondly, rolling her eyes, "and no it's no bad thing. In Dust Town, virginity could get you a whole sovereign, from the right patron. I ... I have a sovereign, here..."
"Wait, you sold your virginity?" Alistair gasped, horrified.
"Well, I wasn't exactly using it, and it got us a month's food and mosswine for Ma," Natia replied, defensively.
Alistair suddenly realised that he'd made a blunder. "Um. I wasn't criticising you, I promise," he said softly, serious for once. "Never you. I just... I can't imagine having to ... do that just to put food on the table. And I'm sorry that you had to."
Natia shrugged, teeth bared in a parody of a smile. "Rica had it worse, and liked it better. Once Bherat got word that I was as likely to bite his clients as suck them, he put me with Leske, knocking heads and taking names. It ... worked out, in the end. I've never..." Natia trailed off, tugging the end of her nugtail braid nervously.
"You've never... what?" Alistair asked.
"Kissed anyone," she finished, eyes trained on the dirt beneath her feet.
"I... once," Alistair murmured. "But I didn't really like it, at the time."
"Why not?"
"Because she wasn't you? I'm honestly not sure otherwise," Alistair confessed wryly.
She looked up at him, surprise writ clearly on her features. They inched closer together, fingertips grazing, breath coming quicker, when the distant storm cloud interrupted their precious moment. They were pelted with a deluge of sleety rain.
Natia squeaked in surprise and jumped into Alistair's arms, burrowing to hide her face against his splintmail shirt, and gripping his gambeson in the gap under his arms, making ticklish Alistair giggle in the most undignified manner.
An icy blast of wind sent him scurrying - running in a dignified manly way - for his tent. Natia squeezed him tightly about his neck, and he felt her breath puffing against his throat. He sank down onto the open bedroll, silently thanking Wynne for making it ready while the Wardens spoke together. Natia had calmed somewhat, but still hadn't loosened her grip around his neck.
"That's normal in Ferelden? It felt cold and sharp, and nasty," she grumbled.
Alistair chuckled, and ran his thumb along the nape of her neck, above the collar of her leather armour. "Yes, it is normal. But we Fereldans don't much care for it, either. Nobody likes being both cold and wet. And most don't care for one or the other, either."
"Oh, good," Natia mumbled, fiddling with the buckles of his splintmail shirt. "Bad enough you surfacers are sun-addled and sky-touched, without adding cold-addled or rain-touched to the list."
"Stop that," Alistair chided her, blushing to the tips of his ears when he realised what she was doing, and actually taking her hands and holding both in one of his when she kept unbuckling. "And I'm only a little sun-addled. It's been a very poor Summer so far."
The sleet that had chased them into the tent was loudly proving him right, beating noisily against the oiled canvas.
"Take. It. Off. And I never said you were sun-addled, just you surfacers in general. You on the other hand, you're completely sky-touched," Natia replied, smiling fondly.
Alistair laughed outright at that, and dropped a kiss to her forehead. Followed immediately by a kiss to the bridge of her nose, ach of her cheeks, and the tip of her nose. She looked up at him, for once in their time together seeming uncertain. Alistair trailed his thumb along her brand, following with his mouth when she turned her head to hide it from him.
"Is that... kissing?"
"Mm-hm, although most people usually press their mouths together, too," Alistair said, amused that in this, at least, he was the knowledgeable one.
"Then let's try that. And after that, can we take our armour off? I don't think I'd be able to sleep with all that clank digging into me," Natia grinned.
Alistair grinned back, and it was the most natural thing in the world to share each other's breath, and lick one another's lips, and finally, finally touch their lips together.
*-*-*
Re: Alistair/f!Brosca "What's Winter?"
Re: Alistair/f!Brosca "What's Winter?"
I love your icon, btw ;)
Re: Alistair/f!Brosca "What's Winter?"
And thanks! They are the Aeducan and Brosca I created for an AU story where they both survive the origin and become Grey Wardens. I might be a bit of a dwarf fan. You know, a little bit. ;)