A/N: This is a silly little one-shot written for the Secret Santa exchange over on the CMDA board. I was lucky enough to draw Merisell, my very good friend and a fantastic fic writer. I thought a bit of Mahariel/Alistair fluff was in order :D Since we've outed ourselves, she asked that I share it here.
Happy Holidays, everyone!
Winter was closing in around the fortress of Vigil's Keep, delicate webs of frost coating the windows and freezing the mud of the yard. Alyna closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh, unsoiled wind that blew through the courtyard, masking for a moment the stench of unwashed bodies and filth that congested the stone tent of Vigil's Keep during the cold months. Some small part of her would never cease to long for the simple, clean woods and sparkling streams that meant home to her clan. But her clan was gone now, and Vigil's Keep was home. There was no help in looking back.
The breeze carried the subtle, soft scent of snow, and she couldn't help but sigh in relief. Fresh snow would freeze the piles of filth from the stables, would hide the trampled mud and kill most of the stink.
She was just starting back to the warmth of the hall and its comforts of fires and mulled ale when she felt a familiar pull in her middle, warming her insides more effectively than anything the keep could offer. With a laugh, she ran towards the gates, ignoring the strange looks she received from her fellow Wardens at the sight of their stoic commander sprinting through the yard like an overly excited girl.
The traveler was cloaked and hooded, his head bent against the freezing wind as he made his slow way up the winding path, but Alyna could never, ever mistake that figure. With a cry of happiness, she ran forward and threw herself into Alistair's waiting arms. The sound of his laughter was like a balm washing over her as she clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He smelled of fresh air and campfires, as familiar and welcome to her as the rising sun.
"Careful, Aly—I may start to think you missed me."
She dropped to the ground, smiling up at her friend. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come back."
He looked exhausted, filthy from the road and unshaven, but his beautiful hazel eyes were warm as he gazed down at her. "It's not exactly a brisk walk to Amaranthine."
She laughed and took his arm, talking and interrupting each other as they made their way up to the keep. It had been nearly eight months that Alistair was gone, an absence that she had felt more keenly than she would ever have the courage to admit to him.
… … …
The next few days passed peacefully enough. The promised snow arrived quickly, blanketing the keep and swirling outside of the windows as Alistair and Alyna closeted themselves in her office, going over the running of the keep and the details of his trip to Amaranthine. For the first time since the queen had sent her to this stone tent and told her to take command, Alyna began to feel comfortable in her own skin again. It was the way he was able to make her laugh, she decided, that she had missed the most during the first months when she was trying to establish her place at the keep, fighting tooth and nail before she managed to garner the deference of seasoned Wardens who couldn't be comfortable taking orders from a golden-haired elf who was barely more than a recruit. She was more than that to Alistair—more than an elf, more than a Warden Commander. Their friendship had been hard-earned and rocky at times, enabled only through the necessity of the Blight, but it was as solid as the walls that now served as her home. They were so much alike, sharing a scattered sense of humor and a penchant for mischief that rivaled anything she had shared with Tamlen. Were he anyone else, Alyna would have long since taken him for her lover. But Alistair had never seemed interested in her in that way, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, she didn't think she could stand his rejection.
"Aly, what's this?"
She looked up to find Alistair frowning at a bit of parchment in his hands, topped by the purple wax of the royal seal. She rolled her eyes, rifling through a stack of papers. "Terms of a marriage contract. Anora seems to think to strengthen my position by convincing me to wed Bann Teagan."
"What?"
She looked up, startled, at the sharpened tone. "Creators, you don't have to bite my head off."
He got up, shoving a hand through his hair. Alyna noted the telltale signs of a blush starting, but he turned away, pacing. "He's twice your age."
"I'm well aware. But Anora is determined, and honestly, if it comes down to necessity, I would much rather have Teagan than any of the other shemlen lords she might have a mind to push on me."
"There is no necessity. Just Anora and her overblown ego thinking she has to prove that she can still push us around." His eyes fell on a pendant around her neck, a beautiful piece of pure gold that represented a tree in full leaf, studded here and there with clear gems. He groaned, turning in a slow circle. "Fantastic.You've already reached the stage of expensive gifts? Is there anything else I should know? Have you two had any kids yet?"
"Alistair!"
"Or are the contracts on who they're going to marry already out, too?"
Alyna got to her feet, coming around the desk to cross her arms and glare up at him. The top of her head barely reached his chin, but still he backpedaled a step at the narrowing of her eyes. "What is wrong with you? I haven't even made a decision yet. Teagan sent this to me as nothing more than a gift for the winter solstice that has such a strange name in these lands."
"You mean Satinalia, and it's not for another week."
"Whatever. I don't need a lesson in shem holidays. I do need to know why you're being insane about this. Is there something wrong with Teagan that I should know about?"
"I—" He stopped, running his hand through his hair again, making it fall across his forehead in wisps. He sighed before muttering, "There's nothing wrong with Teagan."
"So why are you being such a dick?"
He didn't answer, nervously shifting from foot to foot and staring at the ground. "I just…" Alyna's eyes narrowed even further, waiting for him to answer. Suddenly, without warning, he pulled her against him, his hand tangling in her golden curls just a second before he kissed her.
She was too startled to react at first, blinking in surprise, but his lips were so warm, moving against hers with far more surety than she would have thought him capable of. It was without conscious thought that her eyes fluttered closed, her hands moving up the firm planes of his chest through his tunic to rest on his shoulders. The taste of him was addicting, and she breathed it in, felt herself sinking into his embrace. He carefully coaxed her lips apart for a slow exploration, releasing liquid heat through her veins, and she delved in hungrily, moaning softly at the exquisite feel of her tongue sliding against his. She felt her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, her head spinning and her breath shallow in her chest.
He withdrew slowly, pressing one last, gentle kiss to her lips before dropping his head to her shoulder, refusing to look her in the eyes. His voice sounded strained, whispering, "I don't want you to be with Teagan." His lips brushed her neck, and her stomach did a flip, turning her knees to water. "Please—don't marry him." He still didn't look at her, hurriedly turning and stalking out of the room before she could answer.
Alyna only blinked at the closed door.
Oh.
… … …
She found Alistair later that evening, closed up in his room and sitting beside the fire that danced in the hearth. The light from the flames danced over his features, bringing out the gold and red of his hair. He looked like a warrior of the early ages, tawny and strong and impossibly handsome, save for the hesitance in his eyes as he glanced at her.
She approached slowly, taking a seat next to him without a word spoken, only the crackling of the fire interrupting the heavy silence between them.
At length Alistair sat back with a sigh, reaching up to rub his eyes. "You're not wearing your necklace."
She shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's on its way back to Teagan, with my humble regrets."
"Oh." He sounded surprised, but seemed hesitant to pick up on the message she was trying to send him. With Alistair, it seemed nothing short of writing "I want you" on a mallet and beating him over the head with it would get the point across. She sighed loudly, but before she could say anything else, he shifted, reaching for the pack he had tossed on the floor. "I, um, brought this for you." He swallowed, nervous despite the casual way he handed her a small box. She opened it to find another pendent, this one smaller and wrought in what appeared to be pewter, fashioned in the shape of a rose. "I was going to give it to you at Satinalia, but…" He drew a deep breath, staring into the fire as if it might give him the words he needed. "I bought it a long time ago, back in Orzammar, right after I gave you the real one. I meant to give it to you right away, but it just never seemed like the right time…"
She ran a gentle finger over the petals, so realistically depicted it seemed they might bend beneath her touch. "It's beautiful."
"After I got my summons for Weisshaupt, I kept it with me. It was a reminder, through all the questioning, of what I was protecting." He swallowed again, finally meeting her gaze. His eyes were warm and clear, anxious as he watched her reaction. "It was a reminder of what I could come back to, if I had the courage to say something." He looked away again, clearing his throat. "Anyway, it's not as fancy as Teagan's gifts, I know, but I hope you like it."
"I love it." She smiled gently at the gift and looked back up at him, wondering how she could have missed the adoration that warmed his gaze each time he looked at her. She was an idiot, obviously. She moved closer to him, twining her fingers through his. "But, I think I already got what I really wanted."