Charlotte Cousland stretched out on her blanket at the edge of camp and laced her fingers behind her head. She felt the weariness of the miles walked ebb out of her as she lay looking up at the stars. Only a few days had passed while they had arranged the Landsmeet and stayed at Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim, but during that time her body had quickly readjusted itself to sleeping on a real bed and not tramping all over the countryside every waking moment. It felt good to be out of the city, though.
"Not feeling well, my dear?" Alistair approached from the camp's central fire and sat down. He leaned back on his elbows and stretched his legs out next to hers.
"What's wrong?" he asked. He let his head fall back and also scanned the night sky. "You've not acted like yourself tonight. I know things have been very rough lately, but… well… just talk to me, please."
Charlotte sighed and sat up, crossing her legs in front of her. She bowed her head, and her long brown hair, loosed from its confining knot, fell into her face.
"I can't stop thinking," she said, finding a loose piece of leather on her boot to twist between her fingers. "About my life. About my family…" She blinked, feeling hot tears well up in her eyes, willing them not to spill out over her cheeks. "When we're idle it's harder to push the thoughts away. And now things that have been decided..."
"How did it feel to kill Loghain?" she asked suddenly, turning to face Alistair and looking at him intently. Her hands clenched to fists where they rested on her legs.
"Feel?" He still looked at the stars. "I don't know. I think it would have pleased Duncan to know that he was avenged, to know that the threat to Ferelden Loghain posed was gone."
"But it didn't bring him back."
"No… it didn't."
"I thought that killing Howe would make it hurt less. I thought it would make everything right again. I've been living for revenge for such a long time now."
Alistair pushed himself up and scooted next to her. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest.
"Nothing makes losing someone you love hurt less," he murmured into her hair, "except a lot of time, and maybe killing a few thousand darkspawn along the way." He chuckled and he heard her laugh half-heartedly. "I get so wrapped up in surviving through the day that I forget that you've lost as much as the rest of us. Maker, woman, you don't have to play the strong hero all the time. Let it out a bit."
"It's not just that," she said, and sat up to look at him again. The look of concern and love that filled his face brought new tears to her eyes. He wiped them gently from her cheeks.
"Everything changed the night my parents died," Charlotte took a deep breath and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Everything. I still don't even know if Fergus is alive. Then, to join the Grey Wardens and have that change so quickly too…"
"I know, my dear, I know," he tried to comfort her. "We'll take care of this pesky Blight and then we'll track down Fergus. He wasn't at Ostagar, so he must be out there somewhere."
They were silent for a minute, and then she said, "You know, Alistair, when we were first getting to know each other, I thought my attraction to you was just my way of trying to cope with my losses. You know, reaching out to anyone friendly to save myself from despair…" She glanced up into his face quickly and saw his eyes crinkle as he smiled his familiar, utterly appealing smile.
"And then, once you got to really know me, you knew that it was nothing but true love because of my rapier wit and charm," he finished, smiling widely.
"Yes," she answered softly, grinning back. "Yes, I really do love you. I don't know what I would do without you."
She rested her head on his shoulder again, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Their other companions began to ready themselves for sleep. Shale, taking watch as usual, lumbered off into the woods to circle the campsite, her crystals visible flickering through the trees. Leliana hummed to herself quietly as she finished combing her hair and climbed into her tent.
"It's late. Let's go to bed," Alistair got to his feet, pulling Charlotte up next to him. Despite his words, he didn't start toward their tent. He stood in facing her, holding her hands in his.
"And now," Alistair said softly, "to be king and queen of Ferelden." He spoke the words slowly. "I can't get used to thinking that." He rubbed her fingers with his own. "I mean, we've been discussing whether or not I'll be king for awhile now. That wasn't so surprising. But by the Maker, it did shock me when you persuaded the Landsmeet to make you my queen."
"I know, it was sort of sudden," she began, but he cut her off.
"I'm not upset, I told you that. It's just that…" He blushed. "Well… um, I…" He held both of her hands in one of his now, and reached with his free hand into a pouch on his belt. "Oh, Andraste's mercy!" he said in exasperation.
"This is it," he said resolutely, and sank down onto one knee in front of her. "I was going to ask you anyway, after this was all over. Maybe it's redundant at this point, but..."
And, looking up into her wide eyes, he pulled from his pouch a small, plain gold ring and held it up to her. "Charlotte Cousland, you make me crazy but I don't want to be without you, not ever. Will you please be my wife?"
Charlotte smiled. She smiled until she felt tears running down her face again. "Yes, Alistair. Yes, my love," she whispered, and he slipped the ring on her finger.
"Ah, good," he said, blushing harder. He got up and kissed her, and they clung together for a long moment. "Now then, shall we to bed? We'll be in Redcliffe tomorrow, and there will be much to do." She nodded, and they walked toward their tent.