Petals
Hana walked softly through the darkling forest. Moonlight filtered through the green canopy as leaves whispered softly in the evening breeze. A whiff of smoke caused her to pause as she searched for its source. The scent trail led her to a dense stand of brush at the base of a large rock outcropping. Peering through the thick foliage, she saw firelight flickering at the back of a small cave. Pushing limbs aside, she stepped in and found Alistair hunched over the fire, his dejection evident.
"You found me." He stated the obvious without looking up.
"Yes, but you didn't make it easy."
"Well, that was the general idea."
The rose petals scattered on the ground were like a knife in Hana's heart. She blinked sudden moisture from her eyes before speaking. "We need to talk."
"No, actually I don't think I do."
"Okay, then I need to talk and I need you to listen." She waited until Alistair gave her a slight nod before continuing. "You're my friend Alistair. I care about you a great deal."
"Caring? So, that's what this is. Funny, I never knew that caring hurt so much."
Hana grimaced slightly as she joined Alistair by the fire. "Caring makes us vulnerable. Being vulnerable allows us to be hurt. In my opinion, it is better to risk hurt than to never let ourselves care."
"Maybe someday, I'll be able to agree with you. Right now, not so much."
"I know." She took Alistair's hand in hers. "You're a good man Alistair; you're sweet, kind, and gentle - a true gentleman." She smiled. "You're also pretty easy on the eyes."
He snorted. "Well, that explains everything. I can see where those traits would make the thought of being in a relationship with me unbearable."
His words twisted the knife even deeper. Hana sighed, "Oh, Alistair. It would be so easy for me to accept your rose, take you to my tent, and..." Her voice broke.
"And what?"
"And let myself love you. And let you love me. Letting this turn into something more would just make it hurt that much more when it ended."
Alistair looked at her with anguish in his eyes. "Why would it have to end? Can't we take a chance that it wouldn't? Can't we have some happiness in the middle of all this devastation?"
"You are of royal blood Alistair. I know that you don't want to be king, but there is a very real chance that you will be. What would happen to us then? As king, you would be expected to marry and produce heirs. Do you really think the human nobles would support you if you put an elf on the throne as queen?"
"If I am king, they will have to accept my choice."
"No, sadly, they won't. Loghain has torn this country apart. Ferelden needs to unite under one leader; that won't happen if the nobles resent your choice of queen. It's better to end this now before we get in too deep, while we're still friends." Turning to face Alistair, Hana forced him to meet her eyes. "I will always be your friend, I will always care for you, and I will always have your back." She kissed him gently on the cheek, then moved away and gave him a sad smile. "Someday, my friend, you will find someone worthy of your rose." She squeezed his hand, then stood to leave. Before exiting the cave, she turned and said, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For wanting me to be your first." With that, she turned and walked into the night.
Alistair watched her go, wordlessly.
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Hana knew that she had made the right decision, but that knowledge didn't make the situation any easier. Knowing that sleep would not come easily, she roamed the forest for hours before finally returning to camp and collapsing into bed.
Her sadness in the waking world followed her into the Fade and colored her dreams. She dreamed of crying herself to sleep, of Alistair coming into her tent and watching her as she slept; before he left, he wiped away the tears that were slowly drying on her cheeks. She awoke shortly after sunrise with her eyes dry and gritty; the feeling made her wonder if the tears had been real. As she pulled her leathers to her, something fell to the ground; she recognized the pouch in which Alistair kept his small collection of runestones. A scrap of parchment stuck out of the neck of the bag; pulling it out, she found a note in his distinctive scrawl.
I want you to have these. Always, A.
She loosened the drawstring and peered into the pouch; the sight of its contents made her heart clench. It was filled with rose petals, carefully mixed with herbs that would preserve them. She clutched the sack to her chest, feeling completely unworthy of such a precious gift. Her heart on the verge of breaking, she carefully tucked the pouch and its priceless contents into her pack and dressed, steeling herself to face the day.
A/N: The idea for this story occurred when Alistair suddenly offered my elf rogue his rose. I had no interest in romancing him, but I felt like a complete cad when I turned him down.
This may someday serve as the beginning of a longer story detailing the new relationship between the Grey Wardens and those with whom they eventually find love.