Life is a series of snapshots; it is filled with mostly insignificant moments that come to mean so much more later, in retrospect. I kind of always thought Dragon Age was like that; it was a game of action with snapshots of life smattered in between. For this fiction, I sort of took both ideas and ran with them. It's a fluffy, rather short weaving of tiny, maybe even non-moments that lead to a realization for Elissa and Alistair. I wrote this little thing for Saga Svanhildr, who is a super talented writer and a member at the Cheeky Monkeys of Dragon Age Forum. We had a Secret Santa gift exchange and I wrote for her. :) Luckily, she liked it! And for that, I'm thrilled.

LCailan


Small Moments


"Hello," she says. "You must be Alistair."

He frowns because he hates girls. Especially girls like her; she acts like she's better than everybody and looks like she's never fought a day in her life and he can't for the life of him understand why Duncan of all people would recruit her. Little Miss High and Mighty from Highever. He gives her a strange look but she doesn't go away. In fact, she sits down, right next to where he usually sits for supper, and really, it's not like he can tell her to go away. So he has to talk to her and somehow, they become friends.


There's a lot of fighting, he realizes. But sometimes in between all that they have a few moments to breathe. He's not exactly fond of most of the others in their group; they either make fun of him or ignore him. But she doesn't. So he finds himself joining her some afternoons, especially those where the sun is bright yellow in the bluest sky he can ever remember. She lies on the green grass with her hands behind her head and a bunch of annoying, brown curls spread all around her so that he can't sit next to her. She asks him what shapes the clouds are and he says whatever is on the top of his mind. He's not trying to be funny but she laughs and…it feels good.


When she gets mad, he stays out of her way but he watches her because it's fascinating to him how many emotions are written on her face. When she gets angry sometimes she's as crazy as her hair. He also notices that her eyes darken when she gets angry but sparkle like diamonds when she is laughing. It seems strange, but he finds he likes them both ways. How can that be?


It's not like he can mend socks, even if his life depended on it. Wynne usually does it for him but on those nights when they are traveling and the old mage is busy, he sheepishly asks her to help him. She does, but not without a look of reprimand, for she has shown him how to mend his own socks a thousand times.

"You never listen to me!"

It's true, he knows. She tells him things all the time and he never listens.


Then it's Satinalia, and he's gotten her a bow as a gift. She accepts and teases him because he can't get the hang of shooting the arrows in the right direction. After shooting Oghren in the rear, he admits he doesn't know what he's doing. She only giggles at him, her eyes sparkling happily. After that, she uses her present constantly, even though he knows she could buy a bow much better. But she doesn't.


She always wants to stay mad at him when they fight…but she can't quite do it. There's something about the way he looks at her that makes it impossible. Trouble is, he knows she can't stay mad at him and sometimes he fights with her on purpose, just because he can.


There are moments of death all around them and she gets discouraged. She hides her pain most of the time and wipes at tears she doesn't want to be crying. She gets frightened and feels alone but he is clumsy; he can't get his arms to do what he wants them to do, which is to pull her close and hold her tight.


At night it gets cold, especially when they start to travel north. He is gallant, which is surprising and she gratefully accepts his blanket as he tucks it around her shoulders. It smells of him, both spicy and sweet and she secretly buries her face against it for it brings her a measure of comfort. When she returns it later, he is pleasantly surprised at the way his heart hammers while he breathes in her scent – and he holds onto that blanket for a long, long time.


He's lied to her about his true parentage and she doesn't take a moment to hear what he's telling her. She calls him untrustworthy and he calls her selfish and tells her he is so tired of her but it's a lie and surely she knows that! But when she doesn't speak to him for days, he starts to worry.


He gives her a flower and she is touched because no one has ever just given her something so simple before! But it's not just the way he offers it but the look in his eyes. For a few moments she memorizes the expression on his face and realizes that he's telling her things he can't actually say and that makes her smile. They are friends again just like they always were.


She loves that he can make her laugh and it's just that easy. Sometimes when he's laughing she stands there watching his face and the way his eyes light up with joy that she's never known before. Her chest aches and she wonders if this is all there ever will be. She gazes into a face of which she's memorized every loveliness and imperfection and believes she's crazy to even have such thoughts.


Of course he hates Zevran. He's not really sure why. All he knows is that sometimes the elf will look at her with a certain expression on his wily face and he tells her that she is lovely and good company and other such rubbish that makes the insides of his belly twist with anger. And she almost says that she likes him back except that she won't. That's another 'why' he will never get answered.

"Zevran likes me."

"So? Does he know how many different shades of blue there are in your eyes?"

He speaks the stupid phrase thoughtlessly, before he can even catch himself and it makes him blush but she thinks it's adorable. She never again mentions Zevran.


She says the strangest things sometimes, and he calls her on them and she looks down, biting her lip. She wonders if he really means it when he calls her strange. Of course he realizes he's said the wrong thing because he could never, ever find her strange. In fact what he finds is that she's lovely and there's this adorable way that her (no longer annoying) hair curls around the nape of her neck. He wants to touch her there and wants to tell her but he just stumbles on his words and believes she must think he's so stupid.


It's been a year - spring, summer, fall and winter. A large circle of time just like the circle that they seem to have be dancing in. They stand in a darkened room just after she has come from talking to Morrigan. Neither has spoken their heart but each one knows that there is no life without the other. They sit on his bed and his stupid, awkward knee accidentally knocks into her thigh and she reaches down to pat it and then…they are holding hands. For a few seconds they both forget how to breathe.

There is no going back now; it is the moment of truth. If he isn't able to tell her how he feels now…now when it matters the most, when both their lives are on the line, well then…he never will. He turns to look at her.

"Six."

It is the stupidest thing he has ever said.

"Your eyes…six different shades of blue…I told you I knew."

Somehow, it's the only thing he can think of when he is so close, gazing so deeply into the eyes he has fallen in love with. The woman…he has fallen in love with. And as he sits there, she takes his hand in hers, and her lips turn up in a brilliant smile and she is laughing.

"That's all you can say?"

Her voice is eager and those eyes lock with his and his hands are icy, shaking.

"No."

Suddenly her arms are around him and he is holding her close just like he's always wanted.

I love you.

Does he say it or is it just his heart whispering? Her smile is luminous and for a moment there is nothing but their breathing. He reaches down, caressing her face with his much too clumsy fingers.

"I think I'm in love with you."

And she reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck and looks at him intently. He wonders if she's really there; perhaps he has dreamed of this moment before but now it's real and she is real and he is in love. And nothing before this moment has mattered except that it has and he's amazed at everything they've been through and how much all those little things have meant.


It is years later and there's a little baby now with hair like hers, both beautiful and wild. He opens his eyes as he rests in her arms and she looks up at him those eyes shining with hope, love and joy.

"Alistair, look," she breathes, beaming a smile at him that lights up his life. The baby yawns and they laugh. He reaches down to touch his son's hand and once more she smiles.

"He's saying hello, daddy."

He lifts the baby into his arms.

"Hello," he whispers.

And all is right.