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artsybecca · 8 years

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Very early into their relationship, and it shows.

Day had fallen into a cool night, shadows cloaking the dense forest. Some of the party was spooked by the too-quiet atmosphere, while others were content with it. With full bellies of a stew consisting of vegetables and random assortment of meat, the crew retires for the night. Avarielle was first on watch, so she set up by the roaring fire, soaking in the warmth while she kept part of her attention on the forest around her and the other on her mabari; awaiting any signs that she may miss. Hogan had a knack for looking unassuming all the while he kept vigilant watch over his master and her companions. Avarielle scratched behind Hogan's ear, resting her chin on her knees.

The day was fairly uneventful, traveling to where they had hoped they would find the closest Dalish camps. They had come across a few stragglers of Darkspawn and bandits, but for the most part there was little to fight. Avarielle had spent most of the day talking about the areas that the Dalish typically camped around, seldomly sneaking in tiny bits of information about her clan. She rarely talks about her life with the Dalish, and her companions shared smiles when she wasn't looking.

Avarielle yawns, covering it with the back of her hand. She stays in the quiet darkness for a while, just her alone with her thoughts, until a twig snaps behind her. She quickly looks back, her expression softening when she spies Alistair grumbling and cursing down at the ground. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Alistair apologizes as he get closer. Avarielle takes in his bed head, the wrinkle across his cheek from his pillow, but moreover; his paleness. Even in his smile to her, he looks weary.

"Nightmare?" Avarielle asks quietly. Alistair shrugs, gaze shifting between the fire and the ground. "Here, sit with me," Avarielle motions to the space next to her that was not taken by a large dog.

"I don't really want to be a-"

"Sit," Avarielle insists, and really, who is he to refuse? Alistair settles himself down next to the elf, the warmth of the fire soothing his anxiety and aching bones. They sit like that for a few moments, before Avarielle leans over a little and rests her head against his shoulder. Alistair's chest warms. Her acts of affection at this point in their relationship can be random and unpredictable, and he wouldn't take it any other way. It took forever for him to confess his feelings, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world when he was reciprocated with a tender kiss. That moment felt both so long ago and like yesterday. Alistair doesn't realize that he had took to staring down at her, so bright blue eyes were not what he was expecting when he had snapped back to reality. "Ah-aha...sorry about that," Alistair mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. But Avarielle doesn't look away, nor does she say anything. She's intently staring at something, and Alistair's brow draws together in confusing. "Avi? What are you staring at?" Alistair asks.

"Scruff," Avarielle states.

"Huh? Scruff?" Alistair asks, bewildered. His hand automatically drifts to his chin. "Oh! This?" Avarielle nods. "What...about it?" Alistair asks slowly.

"Mmm...nothing. I'm just not used to it, is all," Avarielle says, leaning back a little but keeping her eyes on the same spot. Alistair then realizes they've hardly ever been this close while alone. He's amused by the near fascination hiding under her schooled expression.

"Have you really never seen facial hair before?" Alistair asks, amused.

"Not really. The humans from when I was little...one of them did. But my mind was a little preoccupied by not being shipped off to Orlais as a slave," Avarielle says. Alistair's jaw tightens. The thought still makes Alistair's blood boil.

"Elves don't grow beards?" Alistair finally asks after a pause. Avarielle shakes her head.

"Not that I've seen. We don't grow much in the way of body hair," Avarielle explains. She pauses, her eye training again. "It looks prickly." Alistair pulls an amused smile. He never realized the fascination that could come from something that he was so use to.

"A little, yeah. The Blight hasn't warranted as much time for shaving as I would like," Alistair chuckles. "You didn't feel it when I kissed you?"

"Not...really...My mind was a little preoccupied," Avarielle mumbles, face flushing and turning back to the fire. Alistair grins. His brave warrior with eyes so sharp that they could make Darkspawn go cold, flushing over a simple act of intimacy. But who was he to joke? She can make him a puddle of goo with the right look. "C'mere," Alistair says softly, reaching for Avarielle's hand.

"What?" Avarielle asks quickly, gaze shooting down to his hand. "What are you doing?"

"I said come here, silly," Alistair laughs, sliding a little closer to her and bringing her hand up to hover by his face. Avarielle has a mixture of confusing muddled by an embarrassed flush spreading across her face.

"Alistair-"

"Come oooon," Alistair pushes gently, not even trying to hide his amused grin. Avarielle's lips pout in contemplations for a few moments, and Alistair be damned but he found it adorable.

"You are ridiculous," Avarielle grumbles.

"I seem to recall you enjoying the fact that I am utterly ridiculous," Alistair states. Avarielle lets out a frustrated groan, but peaks back up at him. She's staring at his chin again, her hand just hovering near it. After a few moments, Alistair leans his face inwards, allowing Avarielle to place gentle fingertips. "You're not going to hurt me, Avi," Alistair says softly, sensing the light tremors in her hand. She was nervous, and he could sense it. He tries to school his face out of a grin, not wanting to startle her away. He's learned that he needs to be careful. It took him a while to even be able to get close enough to comfortably sit next to her without her jittering out an excuse to leave. He feels her hand slowly stretch, eventually cupping the side of his jaw. He closes his eyes, enjoying the contact. Avarielle rubs her fingers against his stubbly skin, and he does smile at that. He's so focused on her touch that he does not register her sliding in closer until her knee bump into his thigh. As he opens his eyes, her other hand rests on his other cheek. He's met with a pair of brilliantly blue eye, much closer than they were earlier. Alistair lets out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling warm. It's the fire. Clearly.

"I-um-I-I-" Avarielle stutters, flushing at her actions. Their faces are inches apart, and she's practically in his lap. "I'm sorry-I don't-" Avarielle mumbles, ashamed, and goes to pull her hands back. Alistair catches them, fingers gently wrapping around thin wrists.

"Please don't look like that. It's okay, I promise," Alistair stresses, bringing her hands up to kiss her knuckles. Avarielle mumbles, ducking her head. Her hands were trembling, and Alistair's chest ached. "Why are you upset?" Alistair asks gently.

"Cause..." Avarielle's voice is barely above a whisper.

"Because...?" Alistair prompts.

"Because my brain is being stupid," Avarielle sighs, clearly frustrated. Alistair gives her a moment. "Y-You're making my brain be stupid." Avarielle grumbles. She looks up at him just a little, and her face is more embarrassed than angry.

"Well, you make my brain go all stupid, so I would say we're even," Alistair grins, dimples prominent. The corner of Avarielle's mouth gives the smallest twitch. "Other than that, why are you upset?" Alistair asks, gently caressing his thumbs over her knuckles. Avarielle chews on her bottom lip, eyes darting from side to side.

"Can I kiss you?" Avarielle finally asks, her voice too timid; too quiet. Alistair's brow shoots up.

"Can you kiss me?" Alistair parrots. "You're asking to kiss me?"

"Y-Yes. Yes, okay? Yes, I am," Avarielle stumbles over her words, voice pitching awkwardly.

"Why are you asking?" Alistair asks, trying to stifle his little coo of endearment.

"I don't know!" Avarielle squeaks, posture and tone stiff with defense. "See? You make my brain all stupid and I don't like it!" Avarielle pulls her hands from Alistair and buries her face into his arm. "I don't like this. I don't! I've never felt this way before and I don't know what to do. Sometimes you are so impossibly infuriating, and other times I just want to pull you behind a tree and kiss you!" Avarielle lets out a pathetic, frustrated whine and a gentle punch to his leg to punctuate her sentence. Alistair snorts, really, he can't help it! And then he laughs. That strong, hiccup-y laugh that he does that usually makes Avarielle's chest flutter and tighten. Not this time, though. Avarielle's eyes prickle at his laugh. "Don't laugh at me! You jerk! Here I am, laying my damn heart out and you just-!" Avarielle's head shoots up, and oh shit she actually looks angry. She shoves his arm and pushes away from him. She goes to stand, but Alistair quickly grabs onto her arm.

"No no no! Avi please! I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you!" Alistair tries to assure.

"Bullshit! Yes you were," Avarielle growls. Shit shit shit. This was not how Alistair wanted this to go. Avarielle can go from zero to one hundred very quickly, and Alistair is still trying learn what not to say.

"No I wasn't, I promise! Please, Avi? Please sit down? I'm sorry," Alistair begs, he doesn't care. He just wants to fix this. They have come so far, and he's terrified of fucking it up. Avarielle glares down at him, contemplating, before ultimately giving in and settling back down; at a considerably further distance than before.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad. It's just-what you asked and the way you did it...I-I thought that it was so damn adorable and it made me so happy," Alistair explains, placing a hand on the grass between them and leaning in a little. "I was also a little confused because you don't need to ask."

"...Like I said, stupid brain and...all of that..." Avarielle mumbles, plucking at the grass beneath her. Carefully, Alistair inches his hand closer to hers.

"Just know that...that I've come to care for you. Deeply care for you, in fact. I'm new to this, too. I've never felt like this about anyone before. You are an incredible woman. You make my brain go all stupid, too," Alistair grins sheepishly. Avarielle blushes at his confession. "And you can kiss me if you still want to."

"...I still want to," Avarielle turns to look at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "And I'm sorry for yelling at you..."

"My wounded pride will survive if I am kissed by a lovely woman," Alistair says with a toothy grin, leaning in a little further.

"Oh, okay. Let me go get Leliana. Or would Morrigan be more your type?" Avarielle grins, and then laughs at Alistair's deadpan stare.

"I deserved that," Alistair sighs.

"You did," Avarielle agrees before leaning in towards him. Alistair is surprised at the lack of hesitation, her movements completely fluid. She places a careful hand on his jaw line before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Maker's breath, her lips. Her lips are an unholy softness, plush and plump against his. He's a little self conscious, wondering if his lips are chapped. But she's smiling into the kiss, he notices. He smiles. After a few moments, Avarielle pulls back a little, not before Alistair manages to sneak in a quick peck over her scar. They're both smiling, giddy like children; giddy like their first kiss.

"I'm keeping the beard if it gets me kisses," Alistair teases fondly, pressing another quick kiss to Avarielle's forehead. "A lot of the Wardens had big, bushy beards. Sometimes I wondered if they were hiding a bird or two in them." Avarielle pulls a face, nose crinkling up. "Okay! All right, no bushy beard," he laughs. Avarielle shakes her head, smiling to herself.

"Didn't you originally come out here because of a bad dream?" Avarielle asks, smoothing a hand over his shoulder. Alistair shrugs.

"Mmm, you're right, I did. But as always you fight them away," Alistair says. "My big strong elven lady warrior."

"You're delirious. Go back to bed," Avarielle giggles. "Your watch isn't for a little while longer." "Will you tell me a bedtime story?" Alistair asks, grinning.

"Sure. There was once a boy that pissed off a witch because he woke her, and he was turned into an adorable little toad. The end," Avarielle punctuates the end of her story with a smile and nod. Alistair frowns, no, pouts.

"I didn't much care for that story. The poor boy. Was he handsome, at least?" Alistair asks, still pouting.

"Creators, you are impossible," Avarielle says, rolling her eyes. "Go to bed," she leans in and gives him another quick peck on the lips.

"All right, all right. I'll be banished to my cold, dark, lonely tent. Alone," Alistair sulks dramatically. Avarielle snorts.

"Good night, Alistair," Avarielle says.

"Good night, my dear," Alistair kisses the top of her head before walking to his tent. Avarielle sighs, trying hard to suppress her smile with her palm. The damn fool was always making her blush and scatterbrained.

#avarielle mahariel #dragon age alistair #avarielle x alistair #dragon age #dragon age origins #alistair romance #alistair x warden #alistair x elf #alistair x mahariel #Becca wrote a thing

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artsybecca · 8 years

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I am no King.

Alistair had been in a standoff mood for a majority of the day. He spoke little, the few times he did were matter-of-fact and clipped. He and his companions had arrived at Castle Redcliff late the night before, baring the ashes to heal the Arl. The rest of the night was a frenzy, planning for the Landsmeet as soon as the Arl was confirmed to be healed. And then the "heir to the throne" talk began. Avarielle could practically feel the tension rolling off of Alistair as the Arl and Bann Teagan spoke about Alistair taking the throne over Anora. Avarielle felt her irritation grow as she listened to these men plan Alistair's entire future in a matter of minutes, leaving Alistair's protests on deaf ears.

With day crossing into night, the castle retires. Everyone had their own separate, plush rooms. This sat well with the group, except for the two Wardens. They were so used to sharing a sleeping space by this point, that they knew that they would not be able to sleep alone. They had agreed to sneak into the other's room when everyone had turned in for the night. Alistair had no problem telling Bann Teagan, the Arl and Arlessa where to shove it if they complained, but Avarielle wanted to keep it civil; although she agreed. Especially with the Arlessa.

Avarielle tip toes down the hall to Alistair's room, pulling her silk sleep robe tighter. It was a pastel blue, a close match to her favorite color. When she had first pulled it on, she kept running her fingers over the soft lace that edged the front, sleeves, and hem. She was not used to such human-style luxuries, but she had to admit that she didn't mind this one. Once she was in front of Alistair's room, she gave a soft knock on the hardwood door. She quietly calls his name, gently pushing the door open after a response. Avarielle softly shuts the door behind her and looks up. Alistair is sitting on the edge of his large bed, the fancy sleep clothes offered to him still folded neatly on the oak nightstand. Instead, he is dressed in his usual cotton sleep pants and shirt. Avarielle stands there for a moment, taking in his posture. Carefully, she makes her way over to the bed and sits close to him. She rests a cautious hand on Alistair's back, noting the deep tension that he held there. She tucks her legs up under herself and waits patiently for Alistair to speak. He's hunched slightly, arms resting on his knees.

"Alistair...can you please tell me what is bothering you?" Avarielle prompts slowly. She bites back an aggravated sigh when she is given no answer; no sign that he even heard her. She understands his frustration. It feels as though their group hadn't had one moment to rest. Planning the Landsmeet felt like another Blight by this point. The nobles could be as bad as Darkspawn. Lost in her thoughts, Avarielle barely catches Alistair mumble something. "What was that, sweetheart?" Avarielle asks gently, almost motherly; leaning in some and rubbing soothing circles into Alistair's back.

"I don't want to be king," Alistair blurts out, eyes never leaving the spot in front of him. He's practically boring a hole into the oak flooring. Avarielle blinks, her head tilting a little.

"You-"

"I said that I don't want to be king!" Alistair spits out much louder, quickly jumping to his feet. Avarielle startles at the sudden reaction, watching Alistair with caution. She knew that he did not want to be king, she never questioned that, but such a strong reaction confuses her.

"Alistair, I know that you don't want to be king. I never said that you did," Avarielle says calmly, like she's speaking to a frightened Halla. Alistair rakes a hand through his hair, pacing the floor. "Alistair, sweet-"

"Then why do I have to be!?" Alistair turns on her, his eyes wide and jaw clenched. Avarielle actually flinches, a very rare reaction from her; especially in his presence.

"Alistair, you need stop yelling at me," Avarielle says firmly, getting to her feet. She may be nearly a foot smaller than him, but her personality tends to close that gap. Alistair, ashamed of his outburst, half turns away from her; arms tightly crossing over his chest. Avarielle lets out a frustrated growl, rounding him to face him. She gently place her small hands over his arms, trying to look into his eyes. "Alistair..." Avarielle starts. "Alistair, look at me," she commands firmly. Alistair finally looks at her, jaw clenched and brow pulled taut. Avarielle takes a breath and leads Alistair to sit back on the edge of the bed. With mild protest, Alistair seats himself on the edge of the plush comforter covered bed. Avarielle stands infront of him, hip cocked and arms loosely crossed. She hopes that her expression is not one of irritation, although there is a little nagging at her. She loves Alistair dearly, but he can be extremely stubborn. But so can she, so she's not one to talk. She looks down to see Alistair bouncing his leg and tightly gripping his hands together, two nervous habits that he's never been able to completely shake. Avarielle wonders if it comes from his childhood days, awaiting his abusive punishments. Her chest aches at the thought, realizing that he probably thinks that she's going to punish him. She sees then just how small he looks to her, and she swallows the lump forming in her throat. Avarielle steadies herself, placing a battle-worn hand on his shoulder. "Alistair...Alistair, I know that you don't want to be king. I'm sorry if I ever made you think differently," Avarielle says gently. Alistair shakes his head, keeping his gaze down.

"I...I-I'm sorry, Avi. It's not-I didn't mean-," Alistair lets out a frustrated sign, once again raking his fingers through his dark gingery hair. "I didn't mean to take it out on you...I-I just..." Avarielle gives him a moment to think. It takes everything in her to not take him in her arms and cradle his head to her chest. There are moments where he make her feel incredibly protective of him. She's been building up these feelings ever since she heard of his treatment as a child. Alistair takes a shaky inhale. "Why don't my opinions matter on my own life?" Alistair asks, watery eyes finally meeting Avarielle's. The elf's heart breaks for the man. Avarielle quickly wraps her arms around his shoulders, cradling his head into the crook of her neck. She shushes him quietly, one hand rubbing over his back while the other massages into the short hairs at the base of his skull. Alistair pulls her into his lap, strong arms shakily wrapping around her small waist. Avarielle peppers light kisses into his hair, whispering sweet nothings with them. She hears quiet sniffs muffle into her robe. There have been very few times where Alistair would break down and cry on her shoulder. She loves his strength, but she also loves the way that he expresses is emotions. She remembers the time that he laughed when she complimented him on not being an emotional tight-ass.

The two stay like this for a while, Avarielle feeling the tension slowly start to slip away from Alistair's shoulders. His sniffs and half-hidden whimpers have ebbed as well. Avarielle almost wonders if he had fallen asleep in her arms. Not that she would mind. She would have gladly stayed like that all night if it meant that he would rest easy. To the Void with her stiff back. She feels Alistair shift his head a little, pillowing his cheek onto her breasts. "...How come you get the nice silky robe? I'm not allowed a fancy silk robe?" Alistair jokes softly.

"I'll tell you what, you can wear mine," Avarielle chuckles.

"I think that a few things might not be covered that well..." Alistair laughs quietly.

"A show that I might not mind," Avarielle teases, pressing a kiss to his hair. He's joking, and she's thankful for that. There's a pause that quickly fills the air, only the sounds of their breathing and the shifting of the soft cotton under Avarielle's hand. "...You don't want to be king," Avarielle states, not asks.

"No...No, I don't," Alistair mumbles, punctuating it with a shake of his head.

"Then you won't be," Avarielle states, matter-of-fact. Alistair snorts a little. "I'm being serious, Alistair. If you do not want to be king, then you won't be king. It's that simple," Avarielle says firmly. Alistair picks up his head with a sigh.

"Avi, I appreciate the sentiment, but-"

"No, Alistair," Avarielle interrupts, ignoring the minor flicker of annoyance in Alistair's eyes. "I mean it. You do have a choice in this, and I will see to it that you will not be king," Avarielle states. "I will pull rank on them. They want my help? They want the Warden's help? You and I are the only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, and I'll be damned if they force you into something that you do not want to do." Avarielle's tone is firm and sharp. "I despise human politics, but I'll only play their little game if they play mine."

"Do you think that they will agree to that?" Alistair asks. He's not mocking her, he's genuinely curious.

"They've already wanted my opinion on a number of things. If I have to, I'll play them right and give them an ultimatum. They'll get to have the Warden's help and all of the people that we have recruited only if you are not forced to be king," Avarielle affirms her words with a nod. Alistair blinks, stunned by her words.

"I...it feels incredibly selfish when said out loud...putting all of Ferelden at stake all because I don't want to be king..." Alistair says, gaze drooping down again. Avarielle shakes her head and gently tilts his face up with her hands.

"No, Alistair. Them forcing you into a major decision when they couldn't give a Nugs ass about you up until this point is selfish. Them wanting to force you into this when they abused you for years is selfish," Avarielle grits the last part out. Alistair coos softly at her.

"Are you feeling protective of me?" Alistair wonders teasingly.

"Oh shove it," Avarielle grumbles, a blush rising in her cheeks and bringing out her freckles. He always seems to cover up with humor. It's both endearing and infuriating. "I'm just saying, you're not being selfish, and I'll tell them to go...to go jump in Lake Calenhad if they try to force you into this." Alistair snorts at that.

"And what will jumping into the lake accomplish?" Alistair grins.

"It's...it's very cold this time of the year," Avarielle grumbles. Alistair lets out a laugh, nuzzling his nose against hers before pressing a light kiss to her lips. When he pulls back, he's smiling his usual love-struck dopey smile.

"If I'm forced to be King-" Alistair holds up a hand when Avarielle opens her mouth to protest, "If I'm forced to be King, then you will be my Queen. That will be my ultimatum," Alistair states. He words sink in, and Avarielle's cheeks heat up.

"Me? Queen of-Queen of Ferelden?!" Avarielle squeaks, blinking rapidly to process the thought. "I would make a terrible queen, Gods Alistair really!"

"No you wouldn't, you would make an amazing Queen, if you wanted to be," Alistair affirms with a smile. "You're strong, you've got much more of a backbone than me, you're-"

"An elf," Avarielle interrupts.

"And what of it?" Alistair asks, a warm hand slowly roaming over her hip, fingers just slipping under the hem of her robe.

"Alistair really, they would never let and elf be Queen of Ferelden," Avarielle scoffs.

"I don't care if they wouldn't allow it. I would be King. I could order all of the nobles to wear knickers on their heads for all I care," Alistair says.

"I feel as though that would be a breach of power," Avarielle says with an amused smile.

"Noted," Alistair deadpans with a smirk. "Anyway...I was going somewhere with this..." Alistair trails off. Avarielle rolls her eyes with a smile. This damn loveable man. "All I was trying to say was if I'm forced to be King of Ferelden, then I would want no other incredible woman by my side than you as my Queen," Alistair states, kissing Avarielle's shoulder, nose nudging the edge of her robe collar. "If you want, of course." Avarielle ponders his words for a moment.

"Well, then it's nothing that you or I need to worry about, because you will not be forced into coming King of Ferelden; which means Ferelden won't be half-ruled by a redheaded elf that would be too tempted to toss a dagger through some nobles when they complain about their plush beds losing one feather," Avarielle grins, kissing Alistair's nose.

"I'm not sure if I would mind terribly," Alistair says.

"And that's why you and I would not be the best choice for King and Queen," Avarielle giggles. Her eyes soften, and she trails her fingers down Alistair's cheek and across his jaw. "I-please don't take this the wrong way. You don't want to be, so you won't be. But, I just...I think that you would make an incredible King." Alistair pulls a face. "No, Alistair really. I have never met someone so passionate, so caring about a worthy cause. You gave your heart and soul to the Grey Wardens, and I am most certain that you would do the same for all of Ferelden. You are incredibly smart-"

"Even when I'm tripping over myself in front of the most beautiful woman in Thedas?" Alistair grins.

"Alistair, honestly," Avarielle groans in frustration. "You're incredibly smart, and despite your protests, you're a fantastic leader. I'm sorry that these...people have made you feel any differently. To the Void with them! Especially Isolde," Avarielle practically growls her name. Alistair's chest tingles and warms at her words.

"I...I'm not used to you acting so protective of me..." Alistair mumbles boyishly, a warm blush creeping up onto his cheeks.

"Well, how else am I supposed to feel when people treat you like Nug shit for absolutely no reason?" Avarielle huffs. "You're mine, and I'm yours. If somebody treats you poorly, you bet your ass I'm going to want to punch them in their teeth." Alistair smiles warmly at her.

"I love you so much," Alistair says, nosing her robe out of the way to press a gentle kiss in between her collarbone; the skin there warming under his lips.

"I love you too, you wonderful man," Avarielle says with a toothy smile. She nuzzles her nose into his hairline, pressing a kiss to his temple. Alistair then stifles a yawn against his hand. "I think that it's time we go to bed," Avarielle comments, starting to pull away. Alistair whines dramatically, pulling her back in. Avarielle laughs, shaking her head. "Come on you big cuddly bear," Avarielle wriggles her way out of Alistair's arms and climbs to the head of the bed. She gasps and shoots Alistair a playful glare when Alistair gently swats her bum as she passes. "Excuse you!" She says, not being able to hide her giggle.

"You literally had it in my face, how could I refuse?" Alistair grins, climbing up to join her. "I am a very weak man, you see." he makes his way to the head of the bed and climbs under the mass of blankets that Avarielle was currently curling herself into. Once Alistair settles himself into bed, Avarielle quickly slides herself up to him, tucking her legs against his and nuzzles her face into his chest; humming happily at Alistair's warmth. "Maker's breath are your toes cold!" Alistair comments when her toes slide along his knee. He could feel them even through his cotton sleep pants. Avarielle makes a noise of agreement but nothing more. Her eyes are shut, and Alistair's heart tugs at the look of contentment on his love's face. He nestles his head down a little further into the pillow, nose pressed against the top of Avarielle's head. He mentally thanks the Maker and the Gods for blessing him with this woman. How he got so lucky, he wasn't quite sure. Those were his last thoughts as he shuts his eyes and focuses on Avarielle's steady breathing as she sleeps, a sounds that never failed to lull him into a heavy slumber.

#becca wrote a thing #avarielle mahariel #alistair thieirin #avarielle x alistair #dragon age #dragon age origins #alistair romance #warden x alistair #alistair x elf

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