The cold water soaking through the heavy material of his boots was not a pleasant sensation, and the amusement Alistair had felt when he walked through the first little pool of cool water in the early spring was long gone. Back then it was nothing but a pleasant feeling, the water gently embracing his sore feet, cooling them all the way to the toes. Now, it did nothing but send stinging pain through his entire body.

The former Templar had experienced a few harsh winters in Redcliff before. One year it had been so extreme, that even the mabari wardogs did not want to go outside, and the kitchen been attacked by rats and mice seeking warmth and shelter. Yet, the faint memory was nothing compared to this.

The day was coming to an end, and the night was slowly taking over. The twilight had already found it's way, and Alistair found moving his feet becoming a bigger trouble for each step he took. He did not realize he was staring at his feet before he felt something cold land on the tip of his nose.

Snow.

After the first snowflake slowly started to melt, another landed in his hair, then another, and then another. He looked up into the dark sky. It was full of clouds. He stuck out his tongue, and a few snowflakes landed on it. This was one of the few pleasures he had left. This was one of the things that kept him sane.

The most of the party was far ahead. The only person behind him was Ariana Cousland. The other Grey Warden. Their leader. The most independent and amazing woman in the whole of Thedas. His hearts desire.

It was easy to tell she was freezing. She was looking at her feet with her eyes half closed, she was dragging her feet, and even as she hugged herself, her hands were trembling. As she bit her lower lip, something inside Alistair made a twitch. He hated seeing her like this. It felt like there was an invisible wall between them, something that kept them apart, and she did not deserve this, none of this. Not the murder of her parents, not having no other choice but to join the wardens, not the treachery of Teyrn Loghain, nothing. But still she went through it all with a lifted chin and en expressionless face.

And that was what he hated the most.

Suddenly, the footsteps behind him stopped.

He shifted his head a little bit to the right and glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

Her feet were now pointing inwards and her knees were trembling so much he thought they were going to fall off any second. He took three large steps back and gently placed his hands on each of her shoulders and squeezed slightly.

"Ariana, you can't keep going like this. We should stop. Now." His voice was deep and serious. She kept looking at her feet while she tried to supress the tiniest of smirks that was threatening to appear on her lips. Oh, those wonderful lips of hers…

"No, Alistair, we have to keep going. We have a whole nation to save, and little time to do it." He could see jaw muscles flex as she clenched her teeth.

"Yes, we have, but we won't be able to do it if we don't get any rest. Well, maybe we will, but it will surely be a big mess!" A smile played at his lips. She looked up at him with doubt painted clearly in her face. She could have held a big sign with the text 'I don't believe you'. It wouldn't have made a difference.

"Ariana, let's just find the rest of the party and set up camp." She gave him a disapproving look, but shook off his hands and started walking in a high pace.

With that, he knew he had convinced her.

~·~·~·~·~·~

"You look stressed, my dear Warden. Are you sure you're not interested in a fine, Antivan massage?" Alistair scowled at the two from his seat by the fire. Morrigan, who had sat there with him, had given up annoying him and pointing out his flaws at last, and had retrieved for the night. Their other companions had been to exhausted to even consider staying up. That Leliana had been the first had surprised him. The Orlesian redhead was usually one of the last to go to sleep. She and Zevran liked to stay up and sing Orlesian and Antivan songs for hours.

Now, Alistair's only companion was Ser Flesh Frenzy, Ariana's mabari. Even after months, he still found the name entertaining. What went though her head when she named him? Maybe it was the rage from her parent's murder, or maybe she was just plain horrible at naming animals. He personally didn't like the name very much, so he just called it Ser.

"Do you think they've got a 'thing' going on, Ser?" He kept his voice low so only Ser was able to hear him, but he kept his eyes trained on the Antivan elf. The mabari whimpered in response. "I hoped you'd say that."

He looked at the mabari and then back to Zevran and Ariana.

"Yes, Zevran, I'm sure of it. But if you're really that interested, you can always ask Leliana or Morrigan, or maybe even Wynne!" Her little chuckle was the best thing that had happened that day, even though Alistair was not what had gotten it out of her. At least she still had some humor left.

The antivan elf joined her laughter.

"Ahhh, my dear Warden, those are all lovely, and beautiful women, but not like you. But, a no is a no, nonetheless. Then, I will retrieve to my tent. As always, you are more than welcome to join me."

"I'm aware of that, Zevran. Good night." A little smile. It was small, but it was there, and it was for him. Alistair growled and turned his head away. That was when felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Alistair, my friend." His accent was thick and unmistakeable. "I believe something is bothering our Warden, and since she won't tell any of us who have tried to get it out of her, I think you should talk with her. She seems to like you better than the rest of us."

He had caught Alistair's attention by the word Warden, but the last sentence certainly made him more interested.

"No, Zevran, forcing people to tell something is not the right thing to do."

Now it was Zevran's turn to be surprised. Then his expression changed, and his eyebrows narrowed "And you think it's better that she keeps it to herself? It's eating her up from the inside and out!"

The Grey Warden pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Yes, yes, I'm aware of that! But what can I do? If I ask her about it, she'll surely cut my hands off or something like that! And that would be really bad, I like my hands the way they are now. And I need them!"

"Oho, that sounded dirty, especially from a man raised by the Chantry. I mean, you did not have much contact with women, and you were probably left alone often…"

"Zevran that was not what I meant!"

The elf chuckled, a smirk covering a big area of his face. "I'm well aware of that, my friend." He lifted an eyebrow, but the smirk didn't go anywhere. "Of course, you could also provide other services for the Warden. You know what people say, men with big feet usually also has other big parts of their body."

"Other bi- Oh. Oh, no. No no no no NO!" The warrior's face turned a bright crimson instantly. Somewhere during their conversation, the Antivan assassin sat down next to Alistair, much to his disapproval. "Please, just stop it, Zevran."

"As you wish, Alistair. I'll retrieve to my tent for the night. I think you should take my advice seriously. She seems to care for you more than you think." And with that, the assassin was gone for the night. Soon, Ariana took a seat on a big piece of lumber at the opposite side of the fire. She didn't want to interrupt their conversation, but now she was able to sit by the fire and get warmed up. For a few minutes, she did nothing but sit and stare at the fire, the flames licking the blackened wood. Ash and sparks swirled around each other as they flew up into the cold night air. Her trembling made him anxious, and he couldn't take it anymore. He sat beside her and wrapped the thick fur coat around her shoulders. He thanked the Maker he was able to pick up that thing while they were in Redcliff. For a moment she relaxed into the comfortable warmth, but then she tensed.

"No, Alistair, I can't. You'll freeze."

He shook his head. "With that tiny thing you call armor, I think you need it more then I do." He smiled.

And so did she. Not a fake smile, not a mask she put up, not a façade. Just Ariana. As she mouthed a silent "Thank you" he felt his heart melt. He did not remove his arm from her shoulders. He feared it would never be there again.

"Ariana… These last weeks you've seemed… Distant. Is… Is something bothering you?" He took a deep breath. Never had he thought he'd listen to Zevran, and even less had he thought he'd use any advice he'd get from the assassin. But here he was, probably soon to get his hands cut off. That would surely amuse his Antivan companion.

"No, Alistair, I'm fine." She turned her gaze to her feet and bit her lower lip.

The smile was gone, and so was the happy Ariana.

"Ariana, please, stop saying that." He bit his lip. The next words were words he had wanted to tell her for a long time. "I care for you. A lot. So please, tell me."

She held her breath for a moment before she started.

"We have an entire nation to save, Alistair! Lady Isolde is worried sick about Connor, who's still corrupted by a demon. Also, we're on our way to find the ashes that either exists, or not, and if not, Arl Eamon will die." She lifted her head a little bit, but then squeezed her eyes tightly shut and bit her lip a bit harder to supress the hoarse cry. "As if that wasn't enough, we still need the approval of the dwarves and the Dalish. And even if we manage to do all that without dying, there's still a darkspawn horde to defeat and an archdemon to kill!" She couldn't hold it back anymore, and the tears started gliding slowly down her face.

"… But that's not all, is it?" His voice was barely a whisper.

That's when she broke down crying.

Her sobs and cries filled the air, and the tears were streaming down her cheeks like small rivers. He didn't warn her. He just pulled her to his chest and hugged her tightly, and much to his surprise, she didn't object.

"M- my parents are dead, Alistair! No matter how much I wish for everything to return to what it once was, it doesn't! And my brother, I don't even know what has become of him! Maybe Fergus is- if he's..."

He began stroking her back slowly, trying to calm her down. "Shh… I know, and I understand you."

She began wiggling and tried to get out of his arms, and he let her, but he still kept a tight grip of her arms, and his eyes was filled with worry. "No, Alistair, that's the problem! No one understands me! I'm alone, I have no one!"

"… You have me." And with that, he gently pressed his lips against hers. It was nothing but a soft brush of his lips, but it was the spark that she needed.

She slowly slid her hand behind his neck, while the other got itself tangled up in his golden locks as she deepened the kiss. That was the sign he needed. He sneaked his left arm around her waist and rested his hand on her lower back. As his right hand gently held her head by her neck and his thump gently stroked her cheek, he moved his lips from her mouth to her jaw, to her neck, to her collarbone where stopped to suck on her sensitive skin. She moaned, and threw her head back, but was held in place by his strong hand. He left a trail of kisses back up her neck, her jaw, to return to kissing her mouth again. This time her hungry lips met his in another passionate kiss.

"Ahem, Wardens?" He awkwardly jerked away from her and looked up at the Antivan elf with a look that could kill. "My apologies for interrupting you." He smirked. "Of course, I usually wouldn't interrupt at such an interesting time," He chuckled. "But you are making it difficult to fall asleep." He didn't say anymore, he just returned to his tent. Alistair rubbed his neck. He hated these situations. He opened his mouth to speak, but his fellow Warden put her finger to his lips.

"I know what you're going to say, but don't." She took his right hand in both of hers. "I just wanted to say… Thank you." She looked into his eyes and smiled. And he could have sworn that his stomach did a flip, right there. "For everything Alistair. It means more to me than you can imagine." She leaned over and kissed his cheek and whispered a soft "Goodnight" and returned to her tent.

The Chantry boy sat alone by the fire for a few minutes before waking Sten to end his shift and return to his own tent.

She was still troubled; her shell had just started to crackle. But soon, it would break completely.

It just needed some time.