Chapter One
For the First Time
Between battles, Alistair had done everything he could think of to woo her. A rose from Lothering, poetry, sweet words, kind acts. Cerys Mahariel would have none of it; so desperate was he that he resorted to asking their companions, their friends, what he might do to sway her. Nothing he tried ever worked. She was never rude, never crass; she would smile at him and say thank you. She would tell him how much she appreciated him. That she was glad he was there.
He told her he loved her, once. He couldn't hold it in any longer; it was true, as much as anything ever had been. It was random enough. It was winter, the cold sending a chill straight into their bones. After having settled things in Redcliffe, the Circle, and Orzammar, the group was trekking up and around Lake Calenhad with the intent to escort Dagna, the odd little elf, back to the Circle as were her wishes.
Upon entering Bann Loren's land, they discovered news of Ostagar from a dying man, Elric. The look in Alistair's eyes betrayed just how desperately he wished to return.
Cerys did not hesitate. She shot the party a silencing look as she explained they would, in fact, see Dagna to the Circle before removing themselves back to where it had all began.
It was not until after the ogre was defeated, the late king was given a proper burial, and Duncan's body was burned so they might return his ashes to Highever that they moved from Ostagar to make camp.
Cerys had given him all she had found; Duncan's weapons, Cailan's armor. She felt it belonged to him, especially since she was under the assumption that Cailan's armor had belonged to Maric. He had his mother's necklace, he should have his father's armor. It was only fitting.
In the light of the fire that night, Alistair sat with his mother's necklace in his hands while the flames danced across the darkness on his face. Cerys approached quietly as anything and settled herself nimbly beside him on the log they had rolled over to sit on.
"...I don't have the words, Cerys," Alistair spoke, his voice choked with emotion as he turned the amulet over and over in his hands.
"Words are unnecessary, Alistair," she responded with her lilting voice, reaching a hand out to touch his wrist gently. "I know."
Alistair's hands stopped worrying the necklace at her touch and he stilled a moment, taking in a shaky breath. Finally, he turned his face to her and spoke.
"Cerys, I don't...I know that you don't..." He frowned and settled his mother's necklace in one hand so that he might take hold of hers with the older. She let him, though surprise registered on her features. "I love you. There. I've said it."
His cheeks colored and his hand shook in hers but she did not pull away. Instead, she smiled sadly and leaned forward, kissing his forehead.
Again, she said thank you before excusing herself for the night.
Alistair sat, dumbfounded, beside the fire while Cerys cried silently in her bedroll.