A/N: Based on the calming sentence starter "You're not going to lose me."
Originally posted on tumblr and also found on AO3.
"You are not coming. End of story." Liawyn glared at him, eyes flashing, and Alistair actually took a full step back.
"No! Not end of story!" he retorted nonetheless and she growled in frustration. "We'll stick together, like we always do. Why don't you want me with you?"
"You're needed elsewhere! What about Warden-Commander Clarel?" It was an old argument, one they had repeated several times, and she prayed that perhaps for once, her stubborn husband would listen to her.
"The Void take Warden-Commander Clarel and whatever she's planning!" He was glaring too, face set in an obstinate mask, and she rolled her eyes.
"We've discussed this before!" she snapped, turning away. "Somebody needs to look into these rumors on blood magic and we can't trust anybody else to do it!"
"So come with me, then," Alistair retorted. "Why are you so hung up on this idea? We both know there's no escaping the Calling!"
"To protect you!" she burst out, whipping around and emphasizing the words with a jab in his direction. Her next words were quiet, pained. "I can't risk losing you. Not when we know that there might be a cure. I have to find it."
"And what about you?" he asked, his own voice softer. She risked a look at him and her heart clenched when she saw the worry and fear lurking in his eyes. "Maker, the Deep Roads? I can't lose you before either of us get a chance to live." He looked away from her as his voice wavered.
Her face softened as she took a step forward and pressed a hand against his cheek, bringing his gaze back up to her. His eyes were shimmering with emotion, and Liawyn swallowed down the lump in her throat. "I will come back, Alistair, I promise." She kissed him then, feeling him pull her closer, full of a desperation they had not felt since the night before the Archdemon fell. "You're not going to lose me."