As the last pure chords of Leliana's clear voice faded away into the night, Elissa came to herself with a small start. So beautiful, she thought to herself. She watched Leliana withdraw, respecting her need for privacy, and went to join Alistair sitting outside her tent.
As she approached, she was amused to discover him furtively fumbling a few stray tears from his cheeks. She deliberately made no comment, but seated herself beside him, taking his free hand. Alistair gripped it tightly in return, drawing her into him and stroking her arm absently with his other hand, his still-wet fingertips leaving damp little trails on her skin.
Elissa shivered as his warm, calloused fingers touched her, instantly aroused. Dammit, she thought, and hoped he didn't notice. But of course, he did.
"Cold, my love?" Alistair queried.
Elissa grinned to herself. As perceptive as always.
"Not when I'm with you," she replied. Glancing sideways she spotted an errant tear on his cheekbone, sparkling in the firelight like a jewel. Leaning in closer, she captured it on a finger and held it up to examine. She felt Alistair stiffen slightly beside her – what was it with men and crying anyway? - and deliberately held it up for him to inspect.
Alistair looked at the tear, shimmering resplendent on Elissa's slim finger, and swallowed. "Ah yes. Ahem. Ah. Smoke. Fire. Eye." He stuttered into incoherency and gestured randomly, and cleared his throat, embarrassed.
Elissa merely grinned mischievously up at him, quirking an eyebrow in that way he loved so much. "That's alright, love," she said in her slightly husky voice. "...Fires are like that. Nothing to be embarrassed about."
She leaned in closer. "Actually I find it very endearing, you know."
Alistair blinked. "You do?"
"Oh yes," Elisa responded. "A man who isn't afraid to admit that... fire... affects him like that is very attractive."
"Really?" Alistair squeaked, then cursed to himself and cleared his throat ostentatiously. "I mean, really?" in a much deeper, and he hoped much more suggestive voice.
Elissa only grinned back at him, her deep blue eyes reflecting the firelight and making her look devilish – and delicious.
"Really," she replied.
Still looking him in the eye, she brought the finger with the captured tear up to her lips and slowly licked it off, savouring the salty taste on her tongue. She swallowed and quirked that eyebrow at him again.
Alistair had the distinct impression he was about to faint. The firelight, the tear, her tongue, that damn sexy eyebrow... he heard a roaring in his ears and was dismayed to find himself staring at Elissa, mouth agape and dry, panting hoarsely. Appalled, he struggled to apply the techniques the Templars had taught him. Maker, how am I ever going to survive around her? he thought desperately. He wanted to grab her and ravish her right here in front of the fire and the rest of the camp be damned. Well, maybe not in front of everyone. He winced imagining Morrigan's acid comments about performance. Or, Maker forbid, Zevran's handy hints and tips on how to pleasure a woman. Or a man. He still couldn't believe some of the things Zevran had told him. The man had no shame! Like that time with the three whores and the honey and feathers... or the princess and the torture devices... or the strong, strapping farm boy, for Maker's sake, and the things he did with his...
Elissa watched the interplay of emotion on Alistair's face, laughing to herself. She leaned in again.
"Copper for your thoughts, Alistair," she murmured into his ear, and laughed out loud when he jumped. She laid a cool hand on his furiously burning face. "Why Alistair," she mocked, teasingly, "I do declare you're blushing. What ever where you thinking of?"
She laughed again as Alistair blushed even harder. "Must be good," she commented. "Or... bad?" She quirked her eyebrow at him again.
Alistair moved suddenly, grasping her by the shoulders and growling faintly. Elissa could just make out the occasional word - "Maker", "damn eyebrow", "feathers" - before his mouth descended onto hers and she was consumed by him, his desire and need washing over her and pulling her into him, spiraling them down into something deep and primal. She shuddered as his teeth raked her lips and his hands moved over her possessively. She snaked her arms around his back and traced the contours of his muscles as he moved his hips urgently and demandingly against her.
It was only when she realised that he was pushing her insistently onto her back before the fire that she recovered somewhat from the trance she was in. She pulled herself back slightly and protested inarticulately as his fingers worked busily at the buckles of her leathers, but he ruthlessly claimed her mouth again and continued.
Over the rush of blood in her ears and Alistair's hoarse breaths she dimly heard Morrigan's voice, dripping with spite.
"Oh by all means please continue. I'll just be over here trying to refrain from being ill. Don't mind me."
She heard Zev's accented chuckle in the background, just as Alistair withdrew suddenly, leaving her dishevelled and bereft.
Breathing heavily, Elissa patted hair back, gathered her composure, and was about to say something when Alistair got hurriedly to his feet and stumbled off into the dark. She swore under her breath, flung a withering look at Morrigan who was sneering on the other side of the fire, gathered up her sword and followed after him.
Alistair stumbled off through the dark, night blind in the absence of the fire and the heat of Elissa's presence, cursing imaginatively at himself. He tripped over a particularly vicious root lying in ambush and stumbled, sinking to his knees and huddling in place. He stayed there, feeling worthless and ashamed, dismayed to feel tears rising but not really making any effort to stop them.
Elissa found him there like that, crouched defensively into himself like a wounded puppy, swearing and crying. Her heart turned over and her eyes teared in sympathy. Dropping to her knees, she put her arms around him and cuddled him. "Alistair? Alistair, are you hurt?"
"No," came the thick reply from a downturned face, "at least, only my pride and dignity and reputation..."
"Oh love." Elissa gathered him closer. "It's alright, truly it is. They don't mean anything by it. Well," she considered, "Morrigan might, but then she's a heartless shrew. The others don't. Truly. Zev's just a, uh, well Zev's... Zev." She trailed off and blushed, hoping desperately Alistair wouldn't see. Now was NOT the time to be thinking of Zev being Zev.
Alistair sniffed, pathetically. Elissa winced. He sounded hurt and lost and scared.
"I know," he said. "It's just... with everything... the Blight, everyone dying... Loghain... the crown... I'm scared. I'm bloody terrified, actually. I just feel so... alone. So helpless... powerless..."
"Oh Alistair. Love. You're not alone. I'm here. I'm with you. I will always be with you. I love you. You do know that, right?"
Alistair nodded. "I know. It just doesn't seem real. I mean... you. And me. I feel like I'm in a dream, the one where you give a speech only to find out you're not wearing any pants, and everyone is sniggering at you."
Elissa chuckled. "Alistair my love, trust me. They're not sniggering at you. I think I'm qualified enough to know that by now." She arched an eyebrow and glanced significantly down.
Alistair laughed in spite of himself, a short, loud burst that startled as much as it relieved him. "A hah! Yes. Well. Qualified is good. Yes?"
Elissa laughed. "Yes. Qualified is very good. In fact," she leaned in and looked at him very seriously, "I really think I need to be more qualified. Don't you?"
He grinned that familiar, albeit slightly wobbly, grin at her. "Oh yes. Most definitely." He stood up and bowed to her, directing her back to camp. "After you, my lady Elissa. Oh, and do watch out for that root. Reached out and grabbed me deliberately it did."
Elissa laughed again. "Maybe we should introduce Morrigan to it. They can be nasty together then."
Alistair snorted. "I do NOT want to think about Morrigan and roots, thank you very much. Maker only knows what evil things she'd do to it. It'd be corrupted for life. Twisted. Unclean."
Elissa laughed harder. "Careful love, she might hear you." Alistair looked around in mock terror before gathering Elissa into his arms and hugging her tight. "Ah, my love," he breathed into her ear, "whatever would I do without you?"
Elissa snickered wickedly. "Starve to death for lack of cheese, most likely."
He looked hurt. "Hey, that's a fate worse than death, you know. Lack of cheese. I'm sure that's a crime."
"What is a crime," Elissa declared, "is my lack of continued qualifications."
"Oh really?" smirked Alistair. "Well, in that case..."
He scooped her up into his arms and set off back to the dimly glowing firelight of the camp, at a (careful) trot. Elissa smiled and snuggled into him, looking up into his face as they came back into the light, marvelling over the beauty of his face and his spirit.
Alistair deposited her carefully in front of her tent and stood waiting in front of it. Elissa untied the closures and stepped inside, then turned around. Bathed in the glow of the fire, its light reflecting in her eyes, she drew him into the tent, to her; closing them off from the rest of the world, and sealing them to each other.
