Summary:

Writing prompt in 500 words or less: Watching the person you love with someone else.

Poor Alistair, the things I put him through.

(yes, this is longer than 500 words - I filled it twice, so sue me) ;)

I tried to make it up to him with the bonus section.
(maybe he'll forgive me)

Notes:

A/N - This piece has no warnings, unless you have an aversion to being sad.

All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games,
All twisted perversions therein,
I will take my own credit for, thank-you very much!

Alistair's Rose

Alistair sits by the fire brushing his thumb over the petals of the rose he picked on their way through Lothering. It was stupid really-the actions of a lovesick idiot. At the time, the rose reminded him of the little dalish rogue who barreled into his life and carved her way into his heart. Lyna is beautiful and vivacious-a fierce leader, a dedicated friend... and nothing more.

He hangs his head. She'll never look at me the way she looks at them.

Zevran is quick with his wit and confident; Alistair is bumbling and naive. The man exudes, 'fuck me' with every breath he takes. He could be discussing the weather and make it sound like a proposition. And there she is: smiling at him, soaking up Zev's thinly veiled compliments, leaning ever-so-slightly closer to him as they laugh quietly together.

Bringing the rose to his face, Alistair inhales deeply, trying to enjoy the scent and ignore the pain in his heart.

Then there's Leliana: one part crazy, one part scary, and all parts beautiful. Red hair and full lips, beckoning Lyna in with her easy banter and unwavering faith. He watches them together-all smiles and laughter.

Was that a gentle caress down Leliana's arm? How can I ever compete with the ease of their contact; that gentle affection? How can I ever be more to her than the bumbling idiot that I am when I'm around her? I'm holding her back. She could do so much better than having to hold my hand through all this… darkness.

He watches her do this every night: make her rounds around camp. Talking with each of them, checking in to make sure everyone has all that they need, lending an ear if any of them need to talk. That's why she's the best choice to lead them; she cares about everyone. Just-not him. Not the way he wishes she would.

Alistair takes a deep breath as he gets to his feet then brushes the loose dirt from his breeches.

I can't do this anymore. I can't watch as she flirts her way through the camp. It hurts too much. She'll never see me as anything more than a dependant fool; a lumbering liability.

Looking at the rose one last time, Alistair sighs and lets the flower drop to the ground. With a shake of his head, he wanders over to his bedroll and lays down, his back to the rest of the camp. It's the most privacy permitted any of them, but the Warden herself. With his back to them, no one sees the single tear that cascades down his cheek.

Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I'll work on building the armor around my heart, so it doesn't hurt quite so much.

(464)

Bonus: (Because I just can't leave him like that)

As Lyna finishes her nightly rounds, she glances over to where Alistair lays sleeping. She didn't get the chance to talk with him tonight, he'd turned in before she made her way over to his side of the fire. It's silly, but she tries to save him for last so they can spend more time together. The way he blushes and stutters when they talk is adorable. There is something about him that tugs at her, but she doesn't have the courage to admit her attraction. After all, why would someone so perfect look twice at her? She is nothing more than a dalish outcast and he is… well, heir to the throne, human, witty, gorgeous, devoted, and oh so easy on the eyes.

She dips her chin to her chest, trying to mask the disappointment she feels at not being able to spend time with Alistair tonight. There, on the ground-where Alistair normally stands by the fire-is a single red rose. Picking it up, she holds it to her nose and inhales its sweet scent.

Oh, Alistair. Where did you find such a treasure?

She watches as Alistair starts to twitch on his mat-his head shaking back and forth with what is most certainly another nightmare.

They're getting worse.

He'd been there for her through some of her more frightening ones. Who is she kidding? They are all terrifying. Walking over, she kneels at his side and runs her fingers soothingly through his hair. "It's ok, Ali. I've got you."

He stills at her touch and gentle words, but when she tries to move away, he starts shuddering again. Taking a chance, she curls up next to him on his roll; hoping-praying-that he won't take offence to her proximity in the morning.

He calms once again.

She lays the rose on the mat next to his head, then with one hand still running through his hair, she wraps her other arm around his waist. He shifts once, then settles; closer to Lyna than he was before. Tightening her grip, she brushes her lips lightly between his shoulderblades and settles in for the night.

Whatever this is, or isn't; tonight, I'll be here for him-to keep the darkspawn at bay. Tomorrow, we can talk about it and I will accept whatever he wants.

(388)

End Notes:

I will be doing semi-regular writing prompts. Follow me for the most reliable updates. Most of these short pieces will be for the Collected Works of the Sadness Appreciation Society on AO3. I tend to lean on the fluffy/happy side of writing, so this is me branching out a bit. That's not to say, that I won't include the occasional bit of fluff to soothe your soul (and mine too). I will continue to work on Cocktails & Cheese, as well, so don't think that I've moved on from my baby just yet.

Thank you to the ever beautiful, Ponticle for being my second set of eyes. But don't blame her if you find any errors, those are all on me. :)

Thank you for stopping in!