A/N: Good news! As it says in my profile, I will be back to posting updates on a semi-regular basis. To any of you who've bothered to stick around – thank you so much. I am so very sorry I let myself disappear so much on and off. I hope my my updates will make up for it.

As always, reviews are appreciated and well-loved! I offer rewards as well! :)

Notes: Each chapter is a one-shot only, based off original and gathered prompts that all, in some way or another, involve Sebastian – breaking his vows, more often than not.

Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times. Threesome, m/m, m/f, m/m/f, oral, anal, oodles of foreplay, dirty talk.

Original Idea/Prompt: Hatsepsut got me in the mood to write for TaP. Blame her. Replaying Origins, I've had Alistair on my mind quite a bit. This is Post Dragon Age II, with mage Hawke as Viscountess. Sebastian has retaken Starkhaven and Alistair is King of Ferelden, co-ruling with Anora(unhappily so). Ever the politician, Hawke hosts a dinner to discuss what needs to be done to prevent an exalted march. Things take an...interesting turn, to say the least, when Hawke mentions Isabela. ;)

Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age.

Torturing a Prince

Pairing: Sebastian/F!Mage!Hawke/King Alistair

Kirkwall had nearly fallen for the second time. The first time, the qunari Arishok had decapitated the viscount and let his men ravage the city. This time, Knight-Commander Meredith had lost her bloody mind and turned First Enchanter Orsino to desperate measures. In the wake of all the chaos and loss, the people of Kirkwall and Knight-Captain Cullen had turned to Hawke to set things right. She was their champion and they all looked to her to step up. She'd been reluctant at first but with Sebastian and the templar's assurances that she was what they needed, she soon ascended up the ranks to become the city's newest viscount.

The first year had been hectic. Hawke helped Sebastian retake Starkhaven from his simpleton cousin. She'd ordered the circle to be rebuilt, though she instituted changes that made it a much more grand and more free Circle of Magi. In its courtyard, she'd had a statue of Anders erected – a memorial for those who remembered the healer before he'd lost himself so entirely to Justice. She hadn't let news of his involvement spread beyond those in direct proximity. He'd paid his price, by her hand alone. She needed that monument to remember him the way he was; not the way he turned out to be when his blood had coated her dagger.

Once that first year passed, her duties became more desk-centric. Sign this, sign that; her seal here, her seal there. Hawke feared, within the month, she would lose her mind – she was a fierce mage warrior, not a politician.

As much as she disliked her role, it was hers to play.

This very evening she would be hosting a dinner to entertain the Prince of Starkhaven and the King of Ferelden. While Sebastian was an old friend, Hawke had only met King Alistair once, back when she was only the champion. He hadn't been what she'd expected in a king, far more jovial and lighthearted. He'd been all smiles, all jokes – and far more handsome than Isabela had let on(her pirate friend had been more than eager to divulge her 'adventure' with Alistair and the now deceased Hero of Ferelden).

Hawke had to wonder how she continuously found herself surrounded by handsome men who weren't attainable? There was always some reason or another why intimacy couldn't be had. Fenris slept her with on occasion, his duty as her bodyguard keeping him close at hand – but when it came to more than sex, they were incompatible as lovers. She could deny it all she wanted bu the truth of the matter was she'd always pined after Sebastian. Yet, even now when he was expected to provide heirs, he was told to be holding true to his vows of celibacy.

Alistair was married already – to that unseemly lady Anora. Like all Fereldens, Hawke had been led to believe that their marriage was a sham. A political alliance that didn't hold up once behind closed doors. Whenever the two were seen together, it was frosty at best.

Not that Hawke cared really; she'd never liked the woman in all the years she'd been married to the previous king, Alistair's half brother Cailan. Neither of them were believed to like her much either.

None of this pertained to their meeting. As a mage who was turning things around in Kirkwall, she wanted to speak with Sebastian and Alistair about how things could change in their own regions, for the better. Stifling the mages would never work out; if any progress was to be had, the pressure had to let up – at least a little. That was their purpose for meeting but Hawke knew that her mind could wander. How could it not? Both men were something worth ogling. She had to stay focused.

Easier said than done.

So much easier said than done.

The greetings had gone well and so had their discussion over dinner. Both seemed eager to listen to her ideas, both sharing her ideal that not all mages were evil. Yet, as the dinner progressed into dessert and the wine continued to flow, Hawke had a more difficult time keeping herself focused. Her eyes would wander to stare at kissable lips, ears hearing nothing of what they spoke. She'd drool watching Adam's apples bob as the two men drank of their wines, drool watching the muscles beneath their tunics flex; both had opted for noble wear, instead of their famous arms, much as Hawke herself had.

The longer it went on, the more the dinner felt personal. Playing politician would soon to be obsolete; Maker, what was wrong with her? Some viscount she was. Hah, ogling her guests like some sex-hungry whore at the Blooming Rose.

"Hawke? Are you feeling alright?" Sebastian's sexily accented voice brought her back to reality, his cerulean eyes puzzled.

"Yes, you do look a tad...flushed." Alistair added. His gaze was studiously assessing her and if she looked flush before, she was certain she looked feverish now. "Too much wine? One would think with that dwarf – what was his name, Varric? Well, you think with him around wine would be a piece of cake. Do we have cake?"

Hawke blinked, long lashes fluttering as she tried to keep herself from laughing. "Varric has been...traveling."

"A good thing no doubt," Sebastian chuckled as he lifted his goblet to take another swig of wine. "The stories that dwarf comes up with – could shame the lowliest of the low. He made the whores at the Blooming Rose appear saintly in comparison."

"I'd never have guessed. Not like we haven't heard some of his stories back in Ferelden."

"We've heard some of his about Ferelden," Hawke intoned.

"Oh? Now I'm curious." Alistair leaned forward on the table, propping his elbows on its ledge. "Although, I have to warn you as King, I am pretty sure I am already aware of the stories. My ears have been privy to his company a time or two."

"I'm sure everyone's ears have been privy a time or two," Sebastian laughed. The timbre of his laugh set the hairs on her neck on end. Goose flesh made itself known on her arms and she had to smother the urge to rub them furiously.

Instead, she licked her lips and leaned said arms against the table with a sultry smile. "Is that so? Well, to be completely honest this one we all heard from one busty pirate by the name of Isabela." She almost laughed when he choked on his wine, his eyes widening to nearly comical proportions.

Sebastian didn't hold back his laugh, reaching a tanned hand over to slap the king on the back. Alistair coughed, his face a charming shade of embarrassed red. He rubbed the back of his neck once his coughing eased. "What exactly...did she...um, what did she tell you exactly? We don't really need to talk about this, do we?"

Hawke opted to exaggerate, eager to see what sort of reactions she could rouse in him. She twirled an errant red curl around her finger with a soft shrug. "Oh you know, the usual. She's one to share – when and where she can." She winked. "She said she knew you, very well."

"We-we may have met, once." He coughed into his hand before lifting his goblet to smother himself in wine. Anything to keep him from having to speak any longer but the goblet was only so deep and when it was empty, he had no choice but to meet Hawke's entrancing emerald gaze. "Met might be a tad bit of an understatement..."

"A tad?" Sebastian shook his head. "I'd say you have the Maker given gift of understating."

"Oh I'd say you two met alright." Hawke made a show of sipping her wine, licking the droplets from her pale, shimmering lips with her tongue. She wanted to do a little dance of victory when she saw both of them watching the action intently. This hadn't been her plan initially, but to the void with her if she didn't take such a prime opportunity when she saw one. Perhaps the two weren't as unattainable as she'd thought. "She insists she gave you a rather luxurious tour of her lower deck."

It was Sebastian who choked on his wine this time around, while Alistair's gaze bore down on her, his mouth agape. Hawke was beside herself; she giggled. "What? What are those looks for? It is the truth, is it not? Or was this a case of Isa-exaggeration?" Given his mixed reaction of both amusement and embarrassment, Hawke was inclined to believe that it was indeed the truth – he'd given no denial, had he?

"I do recall something about a boat," he mumbled as a smirk made itself known across his lips, angling them in a very appealing manner. "However, I was a little too...preoccupied to worry about my surroundings."

"So I heard," Hawke drawled.

Sebastian listened on, chuckling beneath his breath at each step, much to Alistair's mortification. Determined to even the odds, Hawke slid her gaze from the king to the prince. "I wouldn't be so quick to laugh, Sebastian," she all but purred his name, smiling when she saw his shudder ever so faintly, "after all, I've heard...stories about you and your prowess."

His laughter faded until it was but forgotten. His auburn brows drew down over his eyes in a stern scowl, lips twisted wryly. "From who?"

"Who else? Varric of course! You know he's relentless when it comes to invading someone's personal life." Hawke languidly pushed herself up from the four-seat dining table, both men watching her curiously. "Now, what I want to know," she whispered, her voice dropping to a low seductive drawl as she moved slowly around the table toward them, dragging her fingers across the edge of it as she went, "is whether or not there is any truth to these rumors."

"What?"

"Excuse me?"

Both men were perplexed to say the least. Hawke chuckled to herself as she closed in on Alistair, his umber eyes watching her intently. Her lithe little fingers gripped the arms of his dining chair and she angled him toward her, Alistair swallowing thickly at the display of milky cleavage the action presented.

"Hawke?" Sebastian's hesitant drawl of her name brought her eyes up. She gave him a wink and lifted her hand to coax him over with a curl of her finger. "What are you – ?"

"Shh, let me talk." Hawke then proceeded to hike the silk of her robes to her knees and straddle Alistair's thighs. He yelped with surprise, his hands flying to her grip her hips – though he didn't push her away, just held her steady as she settled over the growing bulge in his lap. She chuckled at the wide-eyed, nearly panic stricken expression on his face. "Oh posh, your majesty – this can't be the first time a buxom lass has climbed into your lap." He sputtered, nearly red all over. She couldn't help but tap her finger against his nose and tsk. Perhaps he was far more shy and reserved than she'd assumed; though Hawke knew her cousin – she'd been a fiery little thing. If anyone could have arisen the sexual side of any man, it would have been her. "Shall I loosen you up a little, your majesty?"

Alistair's nostrils flared as he gave a half-choked groan in answer. Hawke took that as a yes, but before she could touch her lips to his, Sebastian was beside her, his hand on her shoulder. When she looked up at him through her lashes, she saw the dilation of his pupils and the wry twist of his lips. His own nostrils flared – but from what she was unsure. He could be aroused, or he could be angry. "Yes, my prince?"

"What are you doing, Hawke?" Sebastian had to suppress a shudder, his fingers sliding from her shoulders to the barest hint of her pale flesh. Said fingers began to shake and then, when he seemed to realize what it was that he was doing, he wrenched his hand away and clenched it into a fist at his side.

"Why I'm doing you two, what's it look like?" Hawke grinned and rubbed her plump behind against Alistair's rigid erection beneath her. Alistair closed his eyes on a moan, his grip impossibly tight on her hips. "Unless there are any objections? I certainly don't think Alistair is complaining."

"Now hey, you didn't exactly –" he broke off on a gasp as Hawke nip his lower lip with her teeth. He shuddered and brought her closer. "No, none from me. But, ah...you mean...both of us? Together?"

Hawke licked her lips and reached out to grasp Sebastian's tunic, yanking him close. Her fingers pushed up the material of his top and she leaned her head forward to tongue the edges of his belly button. The tan, muscular man gave out a strangled groan, his own erection suddenly very much alive and pressing against the restraints of his trousers. With a chuckle, she lifted her head and gave them both and incredulous look that asked, 'and why not both of you?'

"Now your majesty, be a good boy and stay put while I coax our prince into playing." Alistair groaned at the loss of her on his lap, but he nodded, his eyes hooded as he watched her slide her fingers into Sebastian's hair and wrench his head down. Her lips took his expertly and her tongue swept in to conquer his own. She could feel the resistance seep slow away beneath her expert kiss, Sebastian's shaking hands finding her hips and yanking her against him. His hard cock pressed against her belly where it strained toward her. Hawke then drew herself away and turned toward the table. As they watched, she used her magic to send the contents scattered about on its surface flying to clang loudly against the wood floor.

When she hopped up on it, facing them, and coaxed them over with her fingers, they were helpless to resist.

At first, she wanted nothing more than to give them pleasure. She disrobed first, taking pleasure from the way their eyes devoured each inch of her exposed flesh. Then she commanded them to strip until they too were naked before her. Both were well built, toned from years of combat; both were certainly not lacking in any manner. She had to wonder, for the briefest of moments, what she'd gone herself into – but the thought was easily forgotten when their lips and hands began to wander. Sebastian kissed her first and then Alistair; each seemed intent on proving the other the lesser of men. She was quick to remind them who had the power, taking one cock in each hand and stroking leisurely. Her thumbs rubbed their slits and teased their heads, before fingers wrapped around each to begin strong, quick pumps along their shafts. They were helpless to do anything other than touch her and lean into her touch, each of them caressing her breasts. Alistair tweaked one nipple making her gasp, and then Sebastian slid his hand down to her nether lips, stroked her already sopping wet center.

"Maker preserve me," Sebastian gasped as he drew his hand back, his tongue lapping every bit of her essence from his fingers. Hawke couldn't help but moan.

"If the Maker were watching, I doubt we'd be preserved. We'd most likely be struck down." Alistair intoned as he dragged his tongue across Hawke's hardening rose bud hued nipple.

Hawke gasped and rolled her eyes. She dropped from the table to kneel between them, continuously stroking their eager cocks with her talented fingers. Each man could nothing more than drop their head back in bliss as she took turns lapping at their slits with her tongue. She'd spend one moment on Sebastian, circling the head head of his erection with her tongue and stroking his length in long, strong pumps; she'd even take him deep within her mouth, tease the edge of her throat, as her fingers tugged and caressed his aching testicles. Then the next moment, after being witness to a needy moan and the sight of Alistair stroking himself, she'd be swallowing the king and giving him the best royal treatment her hands and mouth could procure. Each jump between them and each needy growl, moan, and groan she pulled from them made her all the more needy herself; her slit was nearly dripping onto the floor in her arousal. Sebastian could see it in her hooded emerald gaze, hear it in her breathless moans and decided the pleasure could be shared between them. A shared look between them and she knew.

She stood and stretched languidly, making a show of licking her lips clean of their taste. "Alistair, sit on the table, would you? I'm going to suck your cock while Sebastian has his wicked, wanton way with me," she purred. The king eagerly obeyed, moving to sit on the edge of the table, his strong thighs quivering in the palms of her hands as she moved toward him. Sebastian was immediately behind her, stroking his hands through her hair, down her slick back, teasing the softness of her flesh until goose pimples peppered her skin. As she lowered her head to take Alistair's cock between her lips and deep within her moist mouth, Sebastian drew his tongue down the length of her spine. She moaned loud around the king's shaft, the vibration of it making Alistair growl, one hand gripping the curls on her head as he thrust his hips to help the rhythm of his pumps in between her lips.

Hawke keened against Alistair's cock as two of Sebastian's strong fingers found her slit, sliding between her drenched lips to fill her hot and aching core. He curled said fingers, striking that soft spot on her vaginal wall that made her legs tremble and her knees wobble. She moaned, breaking away from the cock in her mouth long enough to gasp a desperate breath before diving back in. Each thrust into her mouth was matched by a thrust into her center, every nerve in her body screaming in pleasure. She passed on her pleasure to the king before her, until he was shuddering and crying out as he spilled his hot seed deep within the confines of her mouth. She broke off with a gasp, licking up the droplets of his semen.

"Maker! Again?" Hawke's eyes widened, realizing that after a mere minute of stillness, of rest, Alistair's cock was once more rigid, standing thick and tall from the golden man peppering his privates.

Alistair, between his pants and heaving breaths, chuckled "Grey Warden?" As if the rhetorical question explained everything.

She would have said something more but only keened in pleasure as Sebastian's cock slid through her nether lips and buried itself deep within her core. He hit the edges of her womb and stretched her pleasantly, filling her to the brim and then some. Her hands clutched as Alistair's thighs, her head hanging with breathless pants as her body adjusted to the intrusion. The prince didn't move at first, simply sheathing himself within her. His hands caressed her plump ass, moving around to stroke her hips. Then they slid upward, cupping her generous breasts and teasing her nipples, each caress eliciting an excited, breathless moan from Hawke who was doing everything in her power not to wiggle her hips back against Sebastian like a wanton whore. Alistair wasn't content to let her hang over him. He gripped the sides of her face and brought her lips to his, kissing her heatedly. Saliva and tongues mixed, breaths loud and harsh; and that's when Sebastian started to withdraw, only to thrust in once more, hard and swift.

And then she was once more on Alistair's cock with his insistence, sucking on him like he was the most savory cream, as Sebastian started a brutal pace – thrusting hard and fast. Then harder, his testicles and thighs slapping against her skin loudly. The sting was nearly euphoric. As if he knew, Sebastian brought one had down on her ass swiftly. The resounding crack stung like a nug, but her core drenched him in response and she really did moan and scream and keen like a wanton whore. And she didn't care.

They took a short rest, to give Hawke a moment to breathe, but then they were on her again, showing her all too much how little control she now had over this night – what she'd started, she certainly wasn't finishing.

Alistair took her and laid her back against the table, kissing her gently, sweetly. His tongue teased her lips before he meandered to pepper her jaw with butterfly kisses. His lips moved further in their path southward, Hawke watching on like a pervert as he attacked her breasts; she was helpless, moaning and biting her lip as he teased her, teeth tugging her nipples only to soothe the sting with his tongue. She braced herself on her elbows, watching as he continued downward, tongue making a slick path from her breasts to the neatly trimmed thatch of red at the juncture of her thighs. Then, as if she were a feast, he spread her before himself and gorged himself; his tongue teased her slit at first, then flicked across her very engorged clitoris. His fingers teased her entrance, thrusting in to caress her intimately as his tongue recited letters against her central nub of pleasure.

Maker, was the man talented.

As Alistair did this, Sebastian coaxed her to lie back once more, kneeling on the table just above her head, his cock – still slick with her juices – just beside her face. She took the hint and tilted her head back, taking his cock into her mouth and angling herself best she could to take him in her mouth. But she was unable to do much, instead opting to suck and tease his testicles as her hands stroked over him in place of her mouth, the angle making it hard for her – as well as her concentration suffering due to the master linguist between her trembling thighs.

She didn't get long to ride the high; moments after she climaxed against Alistair's tongue and lips, they were flipping her. Sebastian slipped beneath her and then he was filling her, much as he had before, to the brim. He didn't move, instead holding her still as Alistair pressed the head of his cock against the tight ring of her rear end. She gasped, trembling against them.

"Shh, love, relax," Sebastian murmured consolingly. "Just concentrate on the feeling of me inside you." He wiggled his hips every so slightly, making her gasp. "You feel that? My cock, buried to the hilt inside you? You want it thrusting, don't you?"

"Yes."

"You want it hard, don't you?"

Alistair pushed slowly, so slowly.

"Y-yes."

"And fast?" Sebastian pressed.

"Maker yes!" Hawke gasped, crying out as the head of Alistair's cock popped within her. She trembled and both men remained still, giving her a moment to adjust. When she nodded, Alistair groaned through grit teeth and gripped her ass in his calloused hands, pushing inch by inch, until he was pressed all the way inside her most forbidden depths. The feeling of being filled, so completely, by the both of them completely incomprehensible.

"Maker I need to move," Alistair hissed, shuddering behind her. "Can I move Hawke? Please?"

"Yes, yes! Please!" Sebastian stroked her clit with his thumb making her shudder. Then Alistair began to move, slowly. It stung, hurt so good, but she loved it – the fact that it felt dirty and forbidden aroused her all the more, making her ache from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. "Maker, yes, that's it! Fuck me! Hard! I can take it, please!"

They didn't require any further pleas.

Sebastian withdrew at the same time Alistair did, both thrusting back inside – and hard. She screamed, throwing her sweat slicked hair back in pleasure. She burned but in the most glorious, memorable way. In and out in a brutal pattern, wrenching from her the most intense orgasm of her entire life – and even when she came down from the high, they pushed her right back up, thrusting faster and harder, the sounds of their moans and pants and groans and her screams loud in the silence of the room around them. When she felt their seed touch her in both places, filling her to the brim, she lost it, keening like a mad woman who's surrendered herself willingly into the arms of a hungry desire demon.

Hawke groaned, rolling out of their embrace and stretching herself languidly on the table. Sebastian didn't let her go far, settling himself between her thighs. "Sebastian?"

"Alistair had his taste, now I want mine," the prince growled, giving her no more warning than that. He was on her in an instant, his tongue snaking over her slit and core like a pro, lapping up every trace of her orgasmic bliss – and even his. She found the thought more erotic than she should, she knew, but damn it was hot.

She could do no more than lie back and enjoy the ride, Alistair stroking himself as he watched the prince drive Hawke crazy with pleasure. Over sensitive as she was, it didn't take long for him to send her over the precipice, not once, but twice. Alistair couldn't take the sight of her, arched on the table, gleaming like a pagan goddess, possibly even Andraste herself, and pumped himself to a third mind blowing climax, leaning forward to spill his hot seed on her pert, buxom breasts and pale, trembling belly.

When they all lay on the table, spent(for the most part, after all, Alistair turned out to be quite playful no matter how many times he spilled himself), Hawke opted to lay between them, in her man meat sandwich.

Alistair nuzzled the back of her neck, causing her to shiver where she was pressed against Sebastian. "Perhaps we should move this to the bedroom," he breathed huskily against her ear.

"Maker, you're insatiable," she gasped.

"I'm only getting started, Hawke."

Sebastian, all too familiar with the layout of her home, swept her into his arms and proceeded through the adjacent door that led into her private chambers; perhaps this was what she had really wanted all along. Why else would she have hosted the dinner so close to her chambers?

Alistair followed all too eager. Hawke used what little energy she had to send healing magic across her body, relieving her soreness, knowing she was going to need every bit of energy she could muster for the rest of the night ahead.

After all, as Alistair had said, the two men were only just getting started.

Maker have mercy.