Life was hard when you were struggling to save the world and figure out your feelings at the same time.
Zevran and I had danced around each other for some time, both of us clearly interested in our leader and both of us in her good graces. I believed myself to be a bit more solidly in Aliara's good graces seeing as I hadn't started out as an assassin but as a comrade with good references. (Yes, still going on about that. Assassin!) Leliana made some wide eyes at her, but as interesting as the thought of those two together was, we were clearly the ones in competition here.
Not that she was something to be won, but…shut up, we're men. This is what happens when you stick a bunch of us together with someone fascinating! It was like my days in the dormitories of the monastery all over again, the boys aggressively pursuing the best trainers or armor, but with much more at stake: my heart.
Anyway, I had ascertained that Aliara was interested in me – that kissing thing forming most of my proof – but what exactly interested her? I'm very inexperienced and awkward for a grown man, or so I've been told many a time. Zevran, on the other hand, was experienced and smooth. He knew exactly what to do and say to make a woman blush. I, on the other hand, only knew that everything I wanted to say to her made me blush.
Charming, no?
As we traveled about the land, I worried about this more and other days, less. She had found and given me my mother's necklace; thus, she cared enough about me to listen to what I told her and to put some effort into helping me with my problems. When I'd told her about my half-sister, she had exclaimed, "Of course we'll look her up when we get to Denerim!" as though the trip was as important as visiting the Dalish for their aid against the Blight.
Not only that, she and I were side by side for most of our adventures and even in my uncertainty of her romantic interest, I knew that we had formed a close bond in the heat of so many battles together.
We fought as a pair, knowing exactly which enemies needed to be taken out in what order, timing our strikes with rather stunning accuracy, if I do say so myself. As we wandered about Denerim – a place we visited often despite it being the seat of our enemy - I was caught off-guard when Wynne wondered aloud if we read each other's minds while on the battlefield: "You two see enemies and all of a sudden, you're banging your shield over a mage's head and she's cutting the legs out from under archers. How do you two always know where to go, what to do, without even saying it?"
I shrugged, running a hand through my hair, "I just do. I've got all this Templar training, so I'm the best bet against those magic casting beasties. She's so fast with her shield that she can keep archers from being some big threat, especially with how easily they can take you and Leliana down… We just do what feels right when we see the layout of the fight, I guess."
Wynne was shaking her head, "No, Alistair, it's truly more than that. Yes, you see the best tactics necessary for the situation, but she never questions you. Not even for a second. And you always seem to know exactly when she needs backup, when there are just too many beasts or people surrounding her."
Her eyes were gentle and warm as we spoke and I felt a pang in my heart again. I secretly wished at times that Wynne was my true mother. I knew that was incredibly unlikely, but through all the teasing and the mended clothing, we'd formed a closeness that I treasured more than any gold in the world.
"It's the same for you, though, isn't it, Wynne?" She looked curious now, so I continued. "You always seem to know exactly when we need your magics most or when a fight will be too hard on your inner reserves."
"You know," she started slowly, "I never thought of it like that. Leliana and I spoke of the different gifts that the Maker bestows upon people, magic being one of them. I wonder if He hasn't given all of us this gift, coming to know and care for each other so deeply that we know what signs to look for even in the midst of battle?"
"Signs?" I was a bit puzzled by this.
"Yes, Alistair, signs." Lips pursed as she thought, she was clearly trying to find a way to explain herself clearly. "I know when you need healing because you hold your shield differently; a bit closer in and you try to duck your head behind it. Covering your vitals even more tightly than usual. Leliana, well, the poor girl falls over if a darkspawn gives her a mean look, so that's not hard to spot," I had to chuckle, remembering all the times that we'd had to rush to get between Leliana and her pursuers. "Our fearless leader is vocal enough if she wants healing, but sometimes she gets in that hmm…what would you call it?"
No hesitation on that one. "I call it her stupid 'Let's go run at that group of twenty darkspawn!' zone. Crazy foolhardy woman," unable to stop myself from uttering a growl, Wynne chuckled.
"Yes, that is a rather accurate description," she patted my arm consolingly, "If it makes you feel better, she only ever does it when she knows you're right there behind her."
"What?" I wasn't sure if that really ought to make me feel better, considering it gave me a heart attack every time the wench did it.
"Yes, when we were…obliged to bring Oghren with us into the Deep Roads, she didn't once pull that foolhardy stunt. Maybe because he kept doing so, but I think it was because she didn't feel so sure of herself without your backup."
She seemed pretty confident of her hypothesis and I couldn't bring myself to doubt her, seeing as it was her job as our healer and mage to know exactly what we were doing at all times. But…my lady depended on me that much to be by her side? "I…really didn't know that. Thank you, Wynne," my voice was softer than I'd meant it to, wanting to seem unfazed by that bit of information, but unable to keep my true feelings hidden.
"Oh, Alistair. I think you make her very happy," oh no, was she going to start teasing me after we'd had such a nice conversation? I wasn't going to let her get away with that!
Arms crossed over my chest, I adamantly said, "Not this again. I'm ready this time!"
"I just wanted to say that this was something good, for both of you. Being a Grey Warden isn't easy. I'm glad you found each other," she placed her hand gently on my forearm and I escorted her to a nearby bench, even as I sassed her.
"Oh yes, I bet you are, indeed."
Her eyes admonished me and I felt doubt creeping in to beat my suspicions over the head with a good blunt stick. "Cherish this, Alistair. It may not last."
"And?"
"That's all I had to say," she was fishing out her knitting and shot me another of those fond grandmotherly smiles that I liked so much.
"Really?" I pressed, "No pinching my cheeks? No making me blush?"
A knitting needle came perilously close to my face as she shook it at me. "Of course not. I like you, Alistair. You deserve to be happy."
I knew I had a bashful, goofy smile on my face as she confirmed aloud our comfortable friendship. It was only a few moments later when I found myself pouting, however, "Not even pinching my cheeks a little?"
Wynne's gentle laughter drifted to where Leliana and my love stood browsing Denerim's marketplace and they looked back at us, curious, which only made me laugh with her.
I couldn't keep myself from continuing my earlier thoughts, however informative my conversation with Wynne had been, as soon as we were on the move again. My love listened to everyone's woes and dreams, not just my own. She had searched the flora and fauna of every place we'd visited to find those beautiful flowers that reminded our sad bard of her earliest memories with her lost mother. Maker, she'd done the same for Sten with his sword, Morrigan with that gross grimoire, and Zevran with those leather boots. So, truly, how special was I to her?
That kiss made me feel special, even just thinking about it. I could no longer look at her mouth while she spoke to anyone, because the thoughts that came to mind were…distracting. Her eyes weren't much better, though: gleaming as she badgered people for details about even the smallest bits of information. Anything she could find to make things easier for us all. Then she'd turn and smile, happy to share each small victory with me as though she didn't realize that she could fell me with that simple glance faster than any darkspawn axe could.
I don't think she kissed Zevran after she gave him those boots, but he had looked as stunned as I felt when I received the necklace: we were the same in this, never before receiving a gift that showed actual care behind the giving. But she had once been a noblewoman and giving gifts was very much a way to show that you cared for someone, even in a friendly manner. Kisses weren't! Noblewomen were very much not supposed to kiss people unless they were…oh. Oh my.
The future. What did she think about any future we might have? We might have no future at all, in fact, killed by the Archdemon or far before that, by Loghain. Or possibly Oghren's feet. I might be thrust upon the throne like an unloved toy stuffed into a trunk, unwanted except for the symbolic I have the best toy in all the world and you don't! Eamon may actually love me, like a son even, but he was a nobleman of the highest degree; he had absolutely no problem with setting me up on the throne, even with my Grey Warden status demanding neutrality and even if I had no desire to do so.
Did I truly not want to be king at all or had I merely convinced myself that I would be a failure at it, just as I had been at everything else in my life? There were just too many thoughts running wild in my head, too many scenarios that I couldn't account for.
Aliara was noble and legitimately so, unlike me, so if I were king, we could wed! But we were both Grey Wardens and I had never heard of one giving birth after the Joining, not to mention the whole losing our surnames bit, which Eamon was so keen on forgetting. If we lived through this mess, we would probably be seen as heroes – her especially because her very bearing and essence was Heroic, though I might be just a bit biased – but once that victory faded in the minds of the public, would they stand for not just one, but two Grey Wardens on the throne of Ferelden?
It was also a little early to be thinking about weddings anyway. And more than a little obsessive to be thinking about them before I even knew how she truly felt. I was pretty good at obsessing over the little things, however! Like last night's supper – the lack of cheese in my diet was starting to become very alarming; I would have to pester Morrigan to buy more the next time she went shopping for foodstuffs!
I realized that we had stopped while Aliara negotiated with some trader about making some armor and saw the concerned looks that Leliana and Wynne were sending my way. With my love distracted, maybe I could ask for some advice! Cheese could wait!
"Leliana," I began, thinking ahead to what I wanted to ask and not exactly paying attention to what I was saying, "you're female, right?"
"I'm what? Really? No one's told me that before."
"Well," I didn't want to have to break it to her, but - wait, why did she sound so tart just then? Woops. "I'm sorry, you know what I mean! You're a woman, you know how they think, right? What would you do if someone told you they loved you?" The words tumbled messily from my mouth and I felt incredibly silly as I waited for her reply.
Her face softened slightly as she asked, "You want to woo her? Here's a good tip: you shouldn't question her about her female-ness."
"Yes, right." I was blushing already; this was a great idea.
But she was smiling slightly as she continued, "Don't worry so much, Alistair, just be yourself. Women love it when men tell them their feelings." Leliana looked me over as she would a pair of shoes, "Are you afraid that things won't progress naturally?"
"Why would they?" I asked, feeling bitter. "Especially when I do things like ask women if they're female."
"It adds to your charm, Alistair. You are a little…awkward. It is endearing." She was smiling and nodding as though this made complete sense.
"So I should be awkward? Didn't you just say not to do things like that?" Women are too confusing! Asking for advice hadn't helped at all and now Wynne was smirking like she always did when I stuck my foot in my mouth. Argh!
Then it was too late to continue asking questions, because the one who made me ponder all those damn questions in the first place had turned around to face us, smiling joyously and presenting me with a new helmet. Women were confusing, wicked, and capable of melting my insides with just their beautiful faces.
***
We had a set watch schedule every night, though it was easily rotated to give us all something different if we complained. Oghren took the opportunity to complain because it ruined his ability to sleep for twelve uninterrupted drunken hours. Zevran always used it as an excuse to brown-nose: "I could take your watch for you, my lovely Warden, if you required more sleep. No? The offer is always on the table…"
I will not strangle the assassin, no matter how annoying and creepy he is when he looks at her like that. Years at the monastery had taught me that mantras, like the Chants themselves, could keep you from doing rash things. Like pushing attractive Elven men into firepits.
That night, Morrigan was surprisingly cheery - happy to share her watch with Sten. I shuddered, remembering some of her teasing comments to him about sex.
Another Morrigan Mental Image I never needed. Great.
Anyway, our fair leader generally tried to mix people up on the watch schedule. Every night, I sent a brief prayer to the Maker that we would be sharing our watches, but it never seemed to happen. In fact, I knew I wasn't simply imagining it, because Morrigan mocked me about the situation as she and Sten were waking me up for my duty. "I see she's placed you with Wynne again. I think she's just happy to spend time with more capable men in the nighttime, seeing as she's burdened with you throughout the day."
I closed my eyes again, hoping that this was just some ill-fated nightmare. I peeked out from behind one eyelid to find her still looming over me, eyes full of disdain. "Closing your eyes doesn't make people invisible, Alistair, no matter what the Chantry tells you." Maker, do I hate her voice; snide and cruel.
We both jerked in surprise when another voice interrupted our touching moment, however: "Morrigan, I do believe that your mother taught you shape-shifting and not mind-reading, yes?" My love's voice was short and icily commanding. "Thank you for waking up Alistair for his watch. I will be joining him as Wynne has been feeling a bit off since the spirit holding her up saved her the other day. Sleep well." Her hand entered my vision and I took it without hesitation. You don't look a gift Warden in the mouth, I've heard it said.
"Thank you," I started awkwardly, but she cut me off with a curt shake of her head. I let go of her hand, feeling a bit of cold lodged in my chest as I put on the bare necessities of my plate armor. We didn't have to wear our full adventuring gear, just enough to be ready to kick ass if necessary.
Aliara was prowling quietly around the edge of the camp and I saw her faithful Mabari look up at her, whimpering. She knelt down and scratched behind his ears, his tail thumping so loudly in happiness that I could hear it from where I stood watching. I walked the opposite edge of the camp, telling my heart to shut up as I pretended to be alert. Not that I was still tired, but having her act coldly to me as well as Morrigan made my brain tie itself into knots wondering what it could have done wrong. I only thought about strangling Zevran a little bit! I didn't even leave wet leaves in his bedroll this time, either!
"Alistair, I don't think that shrubbery is going to leap up and attack us any time soon. Come over here."
So much for pretense. "Yes, my lady."
"Don't call me that," Aliara grumbled as I gingerly sat beside her. We watched the fire crackle and listened to Oghren's loud snore for long minutes before she spoke again, my mind too busy coming up with insane scenarios of how I'd mucked up to start a conversation. "I'm sorry for…well, I didn't snap at you, but I might as well have."
I wish I could learn how to speak as she did; was it a thing noble folks were taught in noble school? How to say things bluntly and not feel embarrassed at all? "No, it's alright," I forced out, schooling my face into a grin, "Morrigan startled me a bit, so I was probably going to ramble anyway."
I hazarded a glance in her direction, only to quail under the intensity of her sharp eyes. "Alistair, what she said was completely untrue."
"Oh, you…heard that." Great, just what I needed: she would tell me some crappy logical reason and say something like, It's not you, it's me.
"Of course I heard that, my tent is right next to yours," her answer was delivered as sharply as the look in her now-narrowed eyes. "You are one of the most capable men I have had the pleasure of fighting with and you shouldn't let that harlot get to you like she does. I only split us up because of, um," was she blushing? She was blushing! "Well, it would be a bit improper if I were to schedule us together as much as I'd like, seeing as uh, well. You know." She made a vague gesture with her hands as though it explained everything.
Needless to say, it explained nothing. "What do you mean?" I simply had to know what she meant. Did she mean that since we had kissed it was inappropriate for us to be alone together? She was a Cousland, practically the noblest of nobles, so I might've offended her sensibilities there… Or did she mean that she wasn't comfortable being near me alone at night? I shifted my weight towards the edge of the log, in case I was offending her, but my face must have given my thoughts away – blast you, face! – because she tugged my arm to her before answering.
"I mean that since you and I have…something going on," she really was blushing and it was absolutely delightful, "that the others might not feel very safe if we were alone together. Uh, since they are perverts and could only imagine one thing happening. Like Zevran. He keeps saying the most lewd things-"
"What?!" I growled at that; was he making her feel uncomfortable about being alone with me? Now I had reason to wring his scrawny Elven neck! "He had best treat you with respect or I'll stick my sword up his-"
"Alistair!" She laughed, a hand keeping my mouth from finishing its threat. "I just mean that he seems to think that we'd – ah. Be amenable to time alone. Together." At my blank glance, she continued. "At night." She was blushing furiously, but sounded exasperated by this point. "As lovers."
"Oh!" My now-melty brain needed a bit of time to recover from her saying that word in relation to us, so I magnanimously allowed my mouth to cover for me in the meantime. "Wow. Well. Um. No, no. You wouldn't…I wouldn't…we aren't…um. Um?"
Those eyes weren't looking so annoyed anymore, but warm and definitely laughing at me. Two killer dimples were my recompense for lost brain cells as I searched her face for answers, finding fondness and joy there. "Alistair, shut up and kiss me."
"Yes, ma'am," I replied quickly, my heart skipping like a giddy schoolgirl as I slid my hand to the back of her head, pulling her smiling lips to mine. I still wasn't sure what we were exactly, but now I had the promise of her voice calling us lovers, and I promised myself that I wouldn't let her think of anyone else for that position.
I almost rethought that promise when Wynne started in on me the next morning, of course: "Alistair, may I have a word?"
I was in high spirits, getting in Leliana's way as she made breakfast and trying very hard not to stare at That Which I Stared At Most. "Of course, anything for my favoritest mage!"
She gave me a look that read, Too early in the morning for flattery, young man, before innocently saying: "It seems you and our fearless leader are inseparable these days. Joined at the hip, almost."
I nearly fell on my face, keeping my balance by nonchalantly groping a nearby tree. "That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?"
"Well then," she said in her most teacherly voice, "now that you're in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from."
"Pardon?" I squeaked, the phrase intimate relationship making my heart pound and leap up my throat at the same time as horror set in, which really didn't help so much with the speaking. I was in an intimate relationship? Why hadn't I been told of this?
"I know the Chantry says you dream about your babies and the good Fade spirits take them out of the Fade and leave them in your arms..."Wynne paused and shook her finger at me sternly "...but that's not true. Actually, what happens is that when a girl and a boy really love each other-"
"Andraste's flaming sword!" I shouted, sure in the knowledge that my head would explode if she got any more technical than that. "I know where babies come from!"
"Do you? Do you really?" Wynne cooed and Leliana was giggling so hard that she nearly dropped everyone's breakfast into the fire.
My face was approximately the same color as Leliana's hair, I imagined, as I muttered, "I certainly hope so," at the evil woman in front of me.
"Oh, all right then," she said primly, before winking and patting my cheek. "Aww, look, you're all red and mottled. How cute."
I sputtered, "You did that on purpose!"
She mock-frowned and scolded me, her eyes still twinkling. "Now, now Alistair, why would I do such a thing?"
"Because you're wicked. That frail old lady act? I'm so not fooled. I'm on to you now," I fumed, pointing accusingly at her. I heard stifled chuckles behind me and cringed, physically and mentally. "Aliara's…right behind me, isn't she?"
Wynne's grin was evil and wicked in the few seconds I saw it before our fearless leader stood up on her toes to place a kiss on the corner of my mouth. "Good morning," came the happy statement before she gave me a proper show of affection to make up for my public torture session.
"Perhaps you should draw them a diagram," Sten grunted (unhelpfully, in my opinion) from the fire, handing Wynne a stick. "They may need it. He is young and foolish and she is reckless. We need them to lead us against the Archdemon; it wouldn't do for them to get hurt."
Aliara barely batted an eye when facing a Broodmother, but even my love looked disturbed at the idea of a Wynne and Sten diagram-driven explanation of intimacy.
Creepy.