(A drabble involving a female dwarf Warden and Alistair.)
Alistair plopped himself beside the flame-haired dwarf who sat with knees drawn under her chin, staring into the fire. He idly poked at the embers with a stick, unwilling to be the first to break the silence. Rufus, the mabari, lay dozing on the other side of the woman. The sun had set not too long ago and the stars were beginning to flood the night sky accompanied by the song of crickets.
The trio sat in silence for minutes that felt more like hours. Natia sighed heavily and scooted closer to the man, resting her head against his side. He wrapped his arm around her and hugged her closer, drawing a contented sigh as thanks. Neither were wearing the customary plate or chain mail armor, allowing for each to feel the other's warmth beneath plain clothing. After several more minutes of quiet, she gathered up the courage and leaned up to press a kiss on to his cheek.
He smirked. "What was that for, m'lady?"
"You very well know what that was for," Natia smiled.
Just then, the sound and bustle of several people talking and laughing as they returned to camp filled the air. Sten set down what appeared to be a freshly killed hart some feet away from the campfire. After digging around in his pack, he pulled out a knife and set to work separating meat from hide.
"Ah, we return victorious!" Zevran crowed as he set a bag of herbs and a bundle of 3 dead hares down. "Tell me, friend, how was your foray for supplies, hm?"
Natia nodded her head towards a large bag filled with fist-sized red fruits. Surface folk called them "apples," apparently.
Alistair cracked his face into a massive grin. "Those came after a fearsome battle, I'll have you know!"
"Oh ho? Now this I have to hear," the elf chuckled as he found a seat on a nearby log.
The senior Grey Warden regaled a tale wherein the pair had happened upon an abandoned orchard with fruit ready to be plucked. Wanting more fruit than there was to be had on the lower branches, he'd taken the liberty of putting Natia on his shoulders. When they came to the oldest and biggest tree in the orchard, she'd gotten brave and climbed off his shoulders and into the tree. For a while, she'd happily plucked the most inviting apples she could reach and tossed them downward to be collected. After climbing several feet higher, the branches would no longer support the weight of a full grown dwarf. Being new to the surface world, and even newer to tree climbing, Natia had no idea how to get down from her questionable perch. She panicked and held tight to a wobbly branch when an ominous snap rang out and sent her flying earth-wards. Fortunately, Alistair had dropped the sack of fruit and caught the falling Warden before she could sustain more than a bruise or two.
The Antivan elf snickered and bit into an apple after the story's end. "My friend, you will need to show me this orchard. Trees with beautiful women in them? I must try my luck! Perhaps there will be a busty raven-haired beauty to be had."