A/N: I wrote this quite a few months ago, and it's just been sitting here, collecting dust. Who doesn't like hot and bothered Alistair? Rated M for dirty talk.

A/N 2: Chapter 2 is on its way, so I'm made a few changes so the timeline makes more sense. Enjoy!

They decided to set up camp early tonight. The weather was growing colder and the days shorter, and quite frankly, after the mess they just solved at the Circle Tower, they deserved a bit of a break. Granted, at this rate, it would be the dead of winter by the time began their search for the Dalish in the Brecilian Forest, but Solona did mention the chance of staying at Redcliffe for the worst of thought of a warm bed to sleep in with a hearth next to it, a guaranteed three full meals a day with a kitchen to raid when needed, the possibility to just sit with a good book in front of a fire...

Alistair was returning with a bit of extra firewood when he heard Zevran approach Solona. He grew still to listen to what the elf would have to say to their leader. Solona had already made it painfully obvious, much to Alistair's relief, that she preferred his company over Zevran's, so the former assassin did decrease the amount of innuendos or suggestive comments he made. Still, Zevran looked at Solona longingly from time to time, and even though he knew Zevran would not outright make a move on her (out of fear of Solona more so than Alistair), Alistair still did not like him.

It did not help that Zevran was very open with his... experiences, while Alistair still had yet to experience anything more than a few awkward fumblings with Solona during their wilder times spent alone together. Alistair knew that Solona had no problem taking the next step; she had admitted to him that she had licked a lamppost or two while she was in Circle Tower (and was that ever an awkward conversation...). But Alistair was just... not ready.

To put it frankly, he was terrified.

Sure, have a horde of darkspawn charge him, or a group of bandits out to kill him, Alistair had no fear in facing those foes. But put him in a tent with a stunningly beautiful and seductive mage and ask him to take his clothes off... well, that was just a no.

Alistair remembered, not too long after he and Solona had first admitted their feelings to each other, when she invited him back to her tent to spend the night. She had purred the question into his ear, dropping an open mouth kiss on his neck when she was done, and Alistair had to pause for a moment to figure out what exactly she had asked him. Then he realized.

"Your tent. Ah."

He awkwardly explained that he had never done anything of the sort before (which she already knew, damnit, thanks to that ridiculous lamppost conversation). He then proceeded to tell her that he was not ready to take that step yet. It then hit him that he just turned down a beautiful woman who wanted to have sex with him.

Maker, he was stupid.

He expected her to walk away from him then, laughing and making fun of him. But she just nodded and gave him a chaste kiss, and said that she would wait until he was ready, that there was no pressure at all. She kissed him goodnight and made her way into her own tent, leaving him standing and gaping like an idiot.

That was a few weeks ago now, and Solona stayed true to her word. Not once did she ask him to join her in her tent, for which Alistair was grateful. But at the same time, he felt her begin to pull away slightly. She no longer dragged him away from camp to steal a few kisses before they went to sleep. She no longer ran her hand through his hair or playfully grab his knee when the sat together. Sometimes, on the rare occasions that Alistair pulled her to him to kiss her himself, she would even pull away, refusing to look at him after. He felt like he was losing her.

Alistair snapped back to reality as he approached the camp, now hearing Zevran speak. He stopped behind one of the tents, hidden from plain sight, though he was sure Zevran noticed he was close by.

"Ah, my beautiful Warden, how are you doing tonight?"

Alistair poked his head around and was able to see the two of them. Solona smiled at the assassin. "I'm fine, Zev. How are you doing?"

Zev? He was Zev now? Alistair felt his heart drop. It would be bad enough to lose Solona, but to lose her to Zevran? Alistair didn't think he would be able to see of the two of them and hold it together. Please, Maker, let it not be so... he silently prayed.

"Me? Never better," he smirked flirtatiously at her. "It is getting mighty cold though. Come, join me by the fire."

Solona glanced suspiciously at him, but made her way to sit next to them. Alistair was grateful to see that they were not touching, though they were sitting closer than he was necessarily comfortable with. The pair sat in awkward silence for a few moments, and Alistair was just considering making his way back into the camp, when the elf spoke again.

"The nights are growing colder, mi bellisima. We would suffer these nights less if we stayed closer together through the night, no?"

Alistair saw red and was ready to hurl one of the broken logs in his hand at Zevran's head, but Solona's chuckle caught him off guard. "You know about me and Alistair, Zev," she said. She leaned away to stand up, but Zevran caught her hand.

"Yes, but I notice that he does not have the pleasure to share your bedroll, either, bellisima. Clearly, you are both a smart and... passionate lady, so I do not believe this is by your choice."

Ouch... Alistair thought. But it was true. It was Alistair who had stopped things from naturally proceeding. Solona did stand up, her arm coming loose of Zevran's grip. "If he doesn't get the pleasure of sharing my bedroll, what makes you think I'd share it with you?" Her laugh tinkled across the camp. She was teasing him, but at least she didn't invite him back with her. "We're merely waiting for the right moment, Zev. Out in the cold, in the middle of the tent, with you lot listening in... that doesn't sound very romantic to us."

Zevran remained seated, but Alistair could see his profile illuminated by the firelight. "No, I suppose not. Then again, each day may be your last here. There may be nothing more romantic or... sexier than a passionate romp before a possible death, no? It would be like throwing caution to the wind."

Solona smiled, though Alistair could tell it did not quite meet her eyes. "Well, thank you for the offer, Zev. I don't think I'll ever take you up on it..."

Zevran chuckled, turning his face back towards the fire. "You know where I lay at night, Solona. My tent and bedroll are both always open for you, should you change your mind." Solona turned away, her robes rustling in the breeze, and he saw her make her way into her tent. Alistair deposited the extra logs behind the tent as quietly as possible, and snuck around to outside her tent. He knocked, as best one could do knocking on a tent flap.

"Solona? May... may I come in?"

The flaps pulled back, and Solona poked her head out, smiling hesitantly up at him. "Alistair? Oh... yes, of course, please..." She leaned back as Alistair awkwardly crawled in after her. He sat down across from her. She tugged her cloak around her upper body and smiled again at him.

She looked very uncomfortable.

She cleared her throat, if, for nothing else, to break the silent tension. "What can I do for you?"

Alistair ran his hand through her his hair, sighing. He wasn't quite sure how to bring this up... then again, he wasn't quite sure what he was bringing up. "Look, Solona, I know I've kept the pace of our relationship... slow, but... I just need to know..." He looked up at her, knowing he just needed to say what was on his mind, even if it wasn't as tactful as it could be. "Do you even want to... you know, with me?"

She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, the corners of her mouth rising upwards ever so slightly. "Alistair, are you asking me if I want to have sex with you?"

He felt his face flush at her relatively blunt terms. "Well... yes. I mean, I heard Zevran..."

"Zevran means nothing to me." Her eyes locked on to his

Alistair's heart lifted slightly at that, though he still felt unsure. "It's just that, lately... I feel like you're slipping away. Like you don't want me anymore." There, he said it. Her eyes widened in surprise marginally, but her face quickly settled in a smirk. She leaned forward on all fours and slowly started crawling towards him.

"You're asking me if I want to sleep with you," she repeated, bringing her legs around his hips so she was straddling him. She leaned down and kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth, holding his face in her hands. Alistair gasped at her suddenness, then moaned into her mouth as his hands grabbed her hips. As soon as he began to kiss her back, she moved away from his face. Instead, she began to drop hot, opened mouth kisses under his ear. "You're asking me if I want to feel your bare chest on mine." She raked her fingers down his chest, her nail catching on his nipple. He grunted in pain, though it was not unpleasurable. "You're asking me if I want you to hold me in your strong arms." Her hands worked their way up his arms, across his shoulders, and back down his back. Her mouth dropped lower and lower, and when her teeth joined her lips at nipping where his neck met his shoulder, he swore he saw stars. She continued on: "If I want to see your muscles rippling through your skin."

Alistair felt lightheaded, all of his blood rushing south. She shifted in his lap as she her lips moved across the front of his neck, her tongue coming out to dip into his adam's apple. His hips moved on their own accord, grinding into hers, desperately trying to continue the friction. "You're asking me if I want you to bury yourself in me, while I scream your name in pleasure?" Her lips, teeth, and tongue made their way up along the other side of his neck as he panted, waiting and wanting. "The answer is yes."

Finally, she placed a feather-light kiss on his lips. He leaned in for more, but she pulled her head away, her fingers combing through hair. She leaned her forehead against his. He could see that her eyes were bright and her pupils were dilated. She was clearly struggling to keep control of herself, and Alistair was torn between being thankful and disappointed.

"You asked to wait because you were not ready. I'm not accustomed to that. I didn't want to pressure you, I wanted you to be ready on your own. I'm sorry that by trying not to pressure you, you felt like I didn't want you."

She leaned in again to kiss him, and Alistair ran his fingers through her hair, holding her close. The wild, crazy passion dissipated from him with her words, but the overall want he was feeling had not. Their lips slid effortlessly against each other's, their tongues partaking in a slow, erotic dance. Eventually, the need for air forced them apart, but he kept his hand on the back of Solona's head, their foreheads pressed together as they panted, attempting to catch their breath. Solona slowly opened her eyes and gazed into Alistair's, a wicked gleam in her stare.

"Because trust me, Alistair, I want you."

Gripping Solona tightly, he leaned forward, gently placing Solona's back on her bedroll. He closed the distance between the two of them, pressing her into the ground. Her knees came up around his waist, the bottom of her robe falling, leaving her legs bare. Alistair pressed open mouth kisses down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone...

"Uh... Wardens?"

Alistair jumped backwards as if suddenly burned. Solona sat up, trying to fix her rumpled robe. They could see Zevran's shadow through the wall of the tent.

"What is it, Zevran?" Solona called, looking torn between laughing and wanting to throttle the elf. Alistair was much more ready to give him a good punch to the face. Zevran poked his head inside the tent. Alistair squealed and hastily tucked his shirt back into his breeches - when did that happen? - at some attempt of modesty.

"I thought you would be interested to know that there is a small group of men circling the camp: three, maybe four of them. They think we have not seen them. Sten and I should be able to dispose of the easily enough, unless you wish to have a chat with them first?" Zevran asked, smirking slightly.

He did that on purpose, Alistair thought. Sneaky bastard.... Solona sighed and began crawling towards the flap, glaring up at Zevran. "Do you mind?"

Zevran chuckled. "As you wish, my lady."

Solona leaned over and placed a light kiss on Alistair's lips. He groaned and reached for her face, but she pulled back. "Soon, my love. Very soon."

He was going to hold her to that.