Alistair leaned against the wooden wall of the kitchens, his eyes trained on the fascinating sight before him and his lips twitching in amusement. Low firelight cast the room in a warm, golden atmosphere, and the glow flickered across the features of said fascinating sight, namely his wife.
Ashlyn Cousland was the most intimidating woman Alistair had ever met. She had blazed across Ferelden like a wildfire, solving every problem she came across like it was nothing. She had found the years-lost remains of Andraste, and proven to all that the woman had once lived, and burned, for them. She'd chosen the king of Orzammar, saved the Circle of Magi from its destruction, and in a single day raised Redcliffe from its chaos and soon after killed the demon that had caused it all. She'd claimed the title of Queen of Ferelden with full support, and gained the love of her people. She'd taken down a power-crazed general, raised an army, and slain an archdemon, skewering the beast's head with her blade and a cry of triumph.
And now, here she stood…making a sandwich.
A chuckle escaped Alistair, and the Queen glanced up at him from her fixings, puzzled.
"What's so funny?" she asked softly, as it was the middle of the night.
Alistair pushed off the wall and walked over to his wife, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek, making her smile. "I just love you," he replied.
She raised a teasing eyebrow. "And you find that amusing, do you?"
He sputtered for a moment, still his awkward self even a whole year into their marriage. "I – no – that's not what -"
Ashlyn started to grin and giggle and he sent her a mock glare. "What I meant, my dear, if you could keep yourself from antagonizing me for a moment…" he paused and waited for her giggling fit to subside. "Was that I love all the different sides to you there are."
She tilted her head. "How do you mean?"
He tangled his fingers with hers. "When we met, you…I remember thinking how sad and soft you seemed. I didn't know at the time, obviously, what you had just been through…" he squeezed her hand as a shadow of that former darkness flickered in her eyes, remembering her family. "But then we went into the wilds, and you fought like a storm. And later you helped all those people in Lothering so compassionately, and showed the same compassion to me, still getting over Duncan. And the more I got to know you I realized there were so many different parts to you. Sometimes you're witty and clever, and other times you're fierce and unyielding. You never give an inch, but you love so passionately." He raised his other hand to trail his knuckles down her cheek. "There are countless different sides to you, some I'm sure I haven't even seen yet, but I love every single one. I love every part of you."
Tears shined in Ashlyn's eyes, and she raised her own hand to cover his, now cupping her face. "I love you too, Alistair. I…I have no words for how much. No one has ever said anything so beautiful to me."
Before he could reply the clock chimed midnight and they both smiled at the sound. He leaned forward to press his forehead to hers. "Happy anniversary, my love."
She rose up on her toes to kiss him, and they wrapped their arms around one another, the sandwich forgotten on the table to be found by the baffled cook the next morning.