Title: May I?

Written By: Naadya

Disclaimer: I do not own "May I" by Trading Yesterday. And unfortunately, I do not own Dragon Age or Alistair, nor do I make any profit from these writings.

Pairing: Alistair x F!Cousland

A/N: This is an idea that has been in my head for at least a year. I've hurriedly written it out, so please excuse any mistakes on my part. It's based on the song 'May I' which never fails to remind me of Alistair and his love and devotion to his beloved fellow Grey Warden. It speaks of his love and desire to love, cherish, and protect her, but is unsure of her feelings, and whether he is allowed to have such feelings for her in the first place. She has irrevocably changed him to be a better man, and he is willing to forsake all that he knows to be with her... Well, that's my interpretation anyway. You are, of course, free to interpret it any way you wish. Please read and review!


And there you stand opened heart, opened doors

Full of life with the world that's wanting more.

But I can see when the lights start to fade,

The day is done and your smile has gone away.

Alistair stood there subtly watching her through the flames at their camp. Their other companions had retired for the night, and in the peaceful, silent night, his mind was reeling.

She had graciously accepted Arl Eamon's reward for saving his family and Redcliffe. Alistair's fellow warden had gone out of her way to save the life of young Connor, when it would have been much easier to just kill the possessed boy. However, once they had set up camp, he could clearly see how drained she really was.

She was sitting on the grass, with her loyal mabari, Lancelot resting at her feet. She stared into the fire, deep in thought. He could see the reflection of the flames in her eyes. He mentally prepared himself; he always found it difficult to breathe next to her. He approached her quietly. She sensed his presence even before he reached her side and turned to look at him.

He saw her expression right before she could hide it with a well-rehearsed smile, and immediately wished he would never see it again. Her beautiful eyes, like an ocean, they were iridescent and flecked with every shade of blue. Blue eyes that were always as bright and brilliant as sapphires, looked so shattered and lost. They were clouded, holding back unshed tears. He never wanted her to have such an expression again, not if he could help it.

She smiled up at him, pulling the rehearsed smile she had used often these days. He sat down next to her, and softly asked her if she wanted to talk about it. He saw her flinch. She realized he saw right through her façade.

He would not, could not, leave her in such a state. He would much rather perish than leave her broken and alone. She had listened and comforted him after Duncan's death; he'd be damned if he wasn't there for her when she needed a shoulder to lean on.

Let me raise you up.

Let me be your love.

After a considerable silence, she sighed softly and decided to confide in him. She spoke to him about the day she was conscripted by Duncan. She told him about her parents, how she couldn't save them. How it always keeps replaying in her mind. What she could have done differently, how she may have been able to save them. Her brother Fergus was likewise always in her thoughts. She didn't know whether to pray for his safe return, or to pray for the Maker to guide his spirit so he may rest in peace. Lastly, she told him about her young nephew Oren.

She told him she was selfish. She saved Connor because he reminded her of her Oren, not because she was noble and self-sacrificing. She is a liar and a fraud. She was not what everyone believed her to be. She was not a Champion. Her voice broke mid-sentence.

He had to refrain from cursing. Did she truly believe that? Did she not realize what a miracle she is? Had it not been for her, neither of them would have even survived Ostagar. Had it not been for her, he wouldn't have thought they had even the slightest chance of defeating the Blight. Had it not been for her, he wouldn't be the man that he was. Did she really not see how she had changed him? How her mere presence next to him makes him feel that anything is possible? She was a Champion, and so much more.

Alistair's fingernails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists in an effort to stop himself from reaching out to her and drawing her into his arms then and there.

May I hold you

As you fall to sleep,

When the world is closing in

And you can't breathe.

May I love you

May I be your shield.

When no one can be found

May I lay you down.

He couldn't resist entirely. He had to comfort her in some way. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and swallowed hard, trying to conceal a ragged breath when she leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. He could smell her scent, and he was reacting in very curious ways. He quickly forced such thoughts out of his mind. He murmured words of comfort, assuring her she was anything but selfish or a fraud.

She continued with her confessions. She said that her mother chose to stay with her father although he had urged her to leave. Her parents had loved each other dearly, even until death.

He quietly agreed with her. He loved both Eamon and Duncan the way a child loves their parent, yet he knew this was different form of love entirely. This concept of such love was alien to Alistair. He had never given, nor received such love from another being before. However, somehow, he knew such love existed, and realized he was beginning to understand it. Alistair brought his wandering mind back to the stunning grey warden beside him. It was getting difficult to concentrate, with her blonde tresses tickling his skin. He always thought her locks looked like sweet dark honey and caramel. And the thought always made him hungry.

Her parents had started looking for a suitable match for her before the betrayal. She was a woman after all, and was expected to get married and start her own household. She mentioned some man called Dairren, and Alistair felt sick. Was it jealousy? He was oddly relieved, though, when he found out she was utterly indifferent towards Dairren's blatant attempts at flattery.

Sorrow washed over her features once again. She realized she may never settle down and have a family. The taint had made sure of that. He consoled her the best he could, and reminded her of what he told her before, that once the Blight is over, they can all think about having real homes again. The taint does not make it totally impossible to conceive. All hope is not lost.

All I want is to keep you safe from the cold

To give you all that your heart needs the most.

In an effort to cheer her up, he told her a little secret about a young man who ate some very anomalous looking cheese at a tavern in Lothering. She giggled when she pieced together the pieces behind the cryptic little note carved into the table in the tavern, realizing who the culprit was behind the warning.

Let me raise you up

Let me be your love

May I hold you

As you fall to sleep.

When the world is closing in

And you can't breathe,

May I love you

May I be your shield.

When no one can be found,

May I lay you down.

She had finally somewhat relaxed. She yawned, tired. Alistair told her to go to bed, as they had a long trek the next day. She agreed. He released her after making sure she was feeling better. He got up to his feet and held out his hand to her. She courteously accepted it. He felt her soft hand in his, and his heart skipped a beat. How could such a fierce, fiery warrior have such soft, delicate hands? He realized how light she was as he pulled her to her feet.

She thanked him for all he had done. She would not have made it this far if it wasn't for him. Somehow, he had always made her believe they can pull through, just by being with her. She averted her usually direct gaze, not looking him in the eye. She was biting her lower lip, something he noticed she did whenever she was nervous or unsure.

Heat rushed to Alistair's face. He could even feel his ears burning, yet he didn't care. Alistair couldn't stop himself this time. He chastised himself for having such thoughts of his beloved friend, like he did many times before. But he knew what he wanted, and the Chantry be damned. He realized he didn't want to worry about the consequences anymore.

All that's made me

Is all worth trading

Just to have one moment with you.

So I will let go

All that I know

Knowing that you're here with me.

For your love is changing me.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a single, beautiful red rose he had plucked from a bush when they were in Lothering. He licked his lips nervously, unsure of how to proceed. He looked at her and blurted out "Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?"

May I hold you

As you fall to sleep.

When the world is closing in

And you can't breathe,

May I love you

May I be your shield

When no one can be found

May I lay you down

She had teased him mercilessly when he gave her the rose, calling him cute. Yet, her cheeks were just as red as his had been. She averted her eyes whenever he complimented her. For someone who had the poise and confidence to lead armies and argue with nobles, she was sometimes so self-conscious around him.

Alistair watched her retreating form as she retired to her tent for the night. He wished he could join her, hold her as she fell asleep, knowing she was not alone. Never alone, as long as he was by her side. He'd protect her, keep her safe. To be there to dry her eyes on nights she cried herself to sleep.

She turned and peeked over her shoulder at him once before entering her tent, softly whispering a final good night. There was a look in her eyes Alistair couldn't explain. Was it longing? He shook his head. No it can't be, there's no way she would think of him the way he sometimes thought of her. Was there?

He decided it would be better to just take the leap and tell her, instead of forever wondering what could have been. If he were to die facing the Archdemon, it would be with no regrets. He will express his feelings. Who knows, maybe she felt the same?

Yes, he decided with firm conviction. He would definitely tell her. But maybe tomorrow; Or next week. For now, Maker knows, he needed a cold bath.