This is my first fanfic ever. Reviews would be appreciated!
Thanks to Ventisquear for reviewing and encouraging me to publish. :)
Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to BioWare.
Rose Colored Glasses
He watched her turn and walk away in stunned disbelief. It had taken him weeks to work up the courage to offer her the rose. He had tried and discarded dozens of speeches, looking for the words that would melt her heart.
Every night when Ella approached him at camp to talk, he had tried to find some way to bring it up in conversation, and every night it ended just as he had worked up the courage to speak. Tonight he was determined to speak first. He had watched her making her way around camp, talking to each of their companions in turn, her red hair seeming to glow in the firelight. His hands were sweating and his heart was pounding in his chest the closer she came to him.
Alistair felt his mouth go dry as he watched her turn from Zevran and walk towards him. Looking into her emerald eyes he suddenly couldn't remember a single word of his speech. "Do you know what this is?", he blurted out.
"Your new weapon of choice?"
He felt his face turn red. "Yes, watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements. Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!" What was that? She looked at him blankly. This wasn't going so well. He heard himself stutter as he pushed on. "I p-picked it in Lothering. I re-remember thinking, how could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair? In many ways, I think the same of you." He took a deep breath and finished in a rush. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are."
She had stared, then burst into laughter that seemed to go on forever. He could feel a hard knot forming in his belly as she gasped for air and tears rolled down her cheeks. "That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard! Did you really think that would work?" As she walked away from him towards Morrigan's tent, still giggling and shaking her head, Alistair glanced around. It was clear everyone had overheard the conversation. Even Zevran had averted his eyes, bending down as if he had just spotted something very interesting on the ground.
He fled to his tent, face burning, and threw himself down on his bedroll. What a fool he had been. He should have known a woman like her would never be interested in him. He could feel tears sting his eyes as Morrigan's laughter rang out from across the camp.
Maybe she was right. Maybe everyone really was only out for themselves. He hadn't wanted to believe it. Deep down, he had always felt that people were essentially good. Yes, sometimes the events of their lives might cause them to do bad things, but given a chance, people would choose to do the right thing.
He had thought her coldness and cynicism a defense mechanism to keep from getting too close to anyone. After all, she had lost her whole family, was forced to flee with Duncan, the screams of the dying echoing in her ears. And her only brother was lost and very likely dead in the Korcari Wilds. Who wouldn't have wanted to protect themselves from further hurt? He had been so sure that he could reach her, show her that there were still beautiful things in this world in spite of everything that had happened.
She was right. It was time to start looking out for himself. It was clear no one else was going to do it. If he wanted any happiness in this world he would have to put himself first. He looked down at the rose still clutched in his hand.
It was time to put away his silly romantic views of the world. He tossed the rose aside and turned over. Tomorrow he would start doing just that.