First, thank you fujingodofwind and oranjitenshi for your story alert subscription. Second, thank you to AresxBellona, Brelaina, fujingodofwind, and Kirabaros for your reviews. Finally, thank you Brelaina for being my awsome beta reader.

I also just finished my drawing of Violet Surana on DeviantArt. If you want to check it out, here's the direct link (take out the spaces): http:/ / talondragon000 .deviantart .com /#/d3nun8k.

If you want me to draw any particular scenes or characters from this fan fiction, PM me and I'll get right on that. *Huggles my wacom* ;)

Ch. 10 Rose

Violet looked solemnly at the ground. She didn't want to look at him. Her hands were clasped tightly around her arms. She was holding herself; just as she always did after her nightmares at the Circle Tower.

She endured ten years without the comfort and assurance he used to give her. She had to learn quickly how to keep herself from falling apart. Violet would close her eyes and pretend those hands and arms were not her own, but Alistair's. Silently, she shushed and calmed herself down. It was her version of meditation.

"I called for you," she said, her voice was barely a whisper. Her whole body was shaking. "I called your name; over and over, but…" her voice trailed off. She bit her lower lip, hard, and squeezed her eyes shut. It was so straining not to cry. "But you never came."

Despite that fact, she never held a grudge against him. It may have been a trick of her hysterical state, but when she was being pulled away from the Chantry, she thought she heard him call back to her. It was carried softly with the wind. She convinced herself then, that he was coming, but somehow never made it. She hoped, even as she boarded the small boat at the docks; even as she rocked back and forth and watched the shore grow smaller and smaller; she hoped to at least see him standing at the pier and hear him call her name one more time.

Alistair's head was spinning. He watched her silently as she revealed her tale. He let her go when she stepped back to hold herself. It pained him to see her in such a defensive state. She couldn't even look at him now. It worried him to think she felt some disdain toward him because he had not reached her. When the words, "But you never came," were whispered, he felt his stomach drop. His face was pale.

It felt wrong. He would have come to her. He knew he would have heard her call to him.

Alistair brushed his hand through his hair, but stopped once he reached the back of his head. His hand wouldn't move. His head – something was wrong with his head. He wouldn't have forgotten something so important. He stared intently toward the ground and thought hard.

He knocked on the back of his head a few times. Why he thought the gesture would trigger a memory, he didn't know. All he knew was that's what Sister Linda would do playfully whenever he forgot something; and he was desperate. Violet finally looked up at him, puzzled. Her head was tilted as it always does when she was confused.

She blinked. "…Why are you hitting your head?" she asked.

There it was. The day came rushing back to him like a hurricane – the stables, Violet's voice, Ser Alric, and Mother Eloise.

"He hit my head," he muttered as he rubbed his head unconsciously. His eyes gleamed with understanding.

"What was that?" Violet asked with concern. Her body loosened.

He stepped forward and pulled her close again. His eyes locked with hers. "I came for you, Violet," he began. Alistair could feel Violet quiver and her cheeks starting to flush. "I heard you calling me and I started to run to you, but Mother Eloise stopped me and Ser Alric knocked me out. After that, everyone at the Chantry ignored me when I asked where you were. Only brother Kent pulled me to the side and told me you were a mage and was taken to the Circle, but that's all I got out of him."

Alistair smiled as he wiped away a stray tear from Violet's cheek. "I suppose we really shouldn't let the skirts fool us. Templars aren't a bunch to be trifled with… especially if their lyrium is on the line."

His heart fluttered when he saw her sigh and smile again.

"Believe me, I learned that lesson a long time ago," she laughed and let her body loosen again.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. The comment intrigued him. "You messed with a Templar's lyrium?"

Her eyes danced deviously. "More like… I bribed them with lyrium. I slipped some in my pocket after our practices and they brought me lovely gifts in exchange. I ran quite a successful black market for a little while."

Alistair scoffed playfully and put a hand to his chest. "As a fellow Templar I am deeply offended you would use them like that."

She smirked. "It's not like they weren't enjoying themselves." She sighed. "Unfortunately, my little following grew too large and their gossip reached the ears of the Knight-Commander. Again, I was severely punished."

"You were quite the troublemaker weren't you?" he laughed.

"What can I say? I learned from the best," she shrugged.

"It seems surpassing your superior is a habit of yours. First it's with the tricks. Then it's being leader of our little gang," he said, nodding his head toward camp.

"Call me ambitious," she said proudly.

His gaze softened as he examined her. Her confidence radiated on her slowly tanning skin. The constant sunlight was good to her. It was a light brown tint instead of pink as he always got. She was meant for the outdoors. Her eyes shimmered despite the darkness of the night. He noticed that her eyes would gleam when light hit it, like a cat. Her ears, despite being pointed, were petite like her figure. What he loved the most was her strength. She was right to be proud of that ambition. Despite her small demeanor, she could hold her own. He thought of her fighting in Redcliffe and then of his rose.

"Oh," he said suddenly and pulled away from her.

Violet raised her eyebrows as she watched him fumble through his pockets. "Something the matter?"

Alistair's cheeks flushed. "Here, look at this," he said and handed her a fully bloomed rose. It was a deep red and the thorns looked like it was shaved off. "Do you know what this is?"

Violet looked up at him with a strange look, but was smiling. She mused that his nerves would be the end of him one day and decided to tease. "Is this your new weapon of choice?"

He smirked. "Yes, that's right. Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements. Feel my thorns Darkspawn!" He positioned himself in a defensive stance and lunged to the side with an invisible sword. "I will overpower you with my rosy scent," he said. He stood up straight, placing his hands on his hips, and took in a deep breath. Violet put a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. He let his arms drop to his sides. "Or, you know, it could just be a rose. I know that's pretty dull in comparison."

"Sentiment could be a pretty potent weapon," she said shyly and sniffed the rose. Violet fidgeted her foot. What were his intentions? Were they friendly? Brotherly? Romantic? She gulped as she tried to keep herself from over reacting.

"Is it that easy to see right through me? Huh, I guess I shouldn't be surprised," he said. "I picked it at Redcliffe, from the garden you used to tend. I remember thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?' I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. I was afraid the walking dead would destroy it during the battle. So I've had it ever since."

"You rescued my rose? My, isn't that sweet," she smiled. "You had me worried for a second. I thought you were going to tell me you picked it in Lothering. Leliana just finished telling me her vision tonight. It would be very interesting if she found out you had plucked and kept her divine rose." She nodded her head. "It was a sign from the Maker himself, you know," she said, matter-of-factly.

"I suppose we shouldn't tell her I left it there to rot then, should we?"

Violet shook her head. "No, we shouldn't," she laughed. "Though, I think she would understand. It isn't easy saving one rose, let alone two during a blight; and being a Warden is filled with tough decisions."

Alistair chuckled. "I thought that I might… give it to you, actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you."

"You think of me as a gentle flower?" she jested.

"A gentle flower?" he chuckled. "No, I don't think I'd put it that way."

"I guess it's a bit silly, isn't it?" he continued. "I just thought, here I am doing all this complaining and you haven't exactly been having a good time of it yourself. You've had none of the good experiences of being a Grey Warden since your Joining, not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy. I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this… darkness."

Her heart fluttered. It definitely wasn't brotherly. She had little experience with romances, but knew a thing or two about pickup lines and confessions from Jowan. He had several romances with the other mages and would ask her for advice on what to say. Though her comments were blunt, they were well heeded and much appreciated. She did notice a Templar stutter and fidget during one of their conversations recently, but with the swiftness of her recruitment, it never got farther than that. It was thrilling to finally receive a genuine confession – and from Alistair of all people! Was she dreaming? She had to make sure.

She looked past him with a shocked expression and pointed into the trees. "What is that!" she cried and quickly pinched her arm as he turned around.

"What?" he asked. She punched her arm this time while his back was still facing her. The gestures stung and made her arm throb a little. No, she was very much awake. He turned back around and she quickly crossed her arms, gripping where she struck herself to inconspicuously ease the pain. "Did you see something?"

She shook her head and tried to sound calm. "Sorry, it was a squirrel. It's been a while since I've seen one," she laughed. "Anyway, thank you very much. It's a lovely gift," she added quickly before he could press her further. She was relieved when he just laughed it off.

"Well, I'm glad you like it." He stiffened again and shifted his feet. "Now… if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, I'd appreciate it."

Her whole face flushed. Her eyes widened for a second, but she quickly composed herself. She thought she knew Alistair well, but she definitely wasn't prepared for that. This whole time she thought he saw her as a sister; and now? He's messing with me, eh? Well, let the games begin, Ser, she thought and smiled wickedly.

"Sounds good," she said enthusiastically. "Off with the armor, then."

He laughed again, but his face was definitely red. "Bluff called. Damn, she saw right through me." He snapped his fingers to indicate a "shucks" gesture.

Oh? He thinks he can get out of it that easily? "Why must it be a bluff?" she said coyly.

He looked at her pensively. "Hmm… Well, we are at camp, and the tents are right over there; this is true."

"No time like the present then. After all, we do have a lot of catching up to do," she said and watched with amusement as his whole face flushed.

He chuckled nervously and started pointing back toward the camp fire. "I'll be… I'll be standing over here, until the blushing stops. Just to be, uh, safe. You know how it is."

She watched him walk away and smiled triumphantly. This new side of Alistair intrigued her. She had always known him to be confident and silly, but never nervous and bashful. There really was a lot of catching up to do.

This is going to be interesting; she thought gaily and sniffed the rose again, swishing her shoulders back and forth.