I don't own Dragon Age.
She smells of steel and violets and crystal water. Your head is nestled into the crook of her neck as the sky slowly paints itself awake, and you breathe her in and breathe her out. Her arms are wrapped loosely about you, holding you close as the two of you sit in your sleepy stupor of the dawn's shift. The silence is perfect and she is perfect and everything is perfect and you never thought there was a chance for something to be so...so right.
Her face is so serene in slumber, all the worry lines smoothed and her lips parted and her eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings every now and then with a breath of morning mist. She shivers sometimes in the chilled air, but she radiates warmth like the sun and you think maybe that's what she is to you sometimes, she is a star in the flickering ocean of stars. She is the star that shines much brighter than all the rest, the one you will look to for guidance and direction and the one who is your rock and also your light even in the darkness. She is your north star.
You savor this moment, preserve it in pretty paper that crinkles and tie it with a little bow so it settles in your heart and soul and and stays there: a constant firefly in a place where sometimes fear and doubt can darken your smile, a lantern sailing through the tangled forest of your mind and illuminating it to the beauty and wonder that no others see. Sometimes you think you could be, you would be happy with no one else seeing the corners of your soul, because as it is now, it is just you and her wandering together, hands entwined and without a fear in your hearts.
In time the sun will rise and her eyelashes will cease fluttering and her forehead will crease once more and she will frown, and she will look at you with guarded eyes and speak to you with words she has carefully planned out. But her gaze will still linger on you when she thinks you are not looking, and she might even blush a little and turn away when you catch her in the act.
She smells of steel and violets and crystal water, and when the sun sets she will set down her burdens and she will be in your arms once more and you will be in hers, and those moments are worth more to you than the moon is worth to the sky.