Work Text:
Falling in love with Alistair had been easy. As soon as Katherine had met him, she’d been drawn to him. The way he smiled easily and without reason, the witty one-liners he always seemed ready with, the soft brown of his eyes and the way his hair never seemed to cooperate. He was boyishly handsome, as sweet as could be, and not too shabby with a longsword, either. A deadly combination for Katherine Cousland, who had been thrust into the life of Grey Warden with no warning and no friendly face to guide her.
The months they spent on the road hadn’t exactly been conducive to a blossoming relationship, what with the tracking down allies who’d signed the treaties, fighting darkspawn, and outrunning Loghain’s men--but still, between all that, Katherine had found time to speak with Alistair, to get to know him, to fall in love. She’d spent every moment with him she could, even going so far as to track down his mother’s amulet and Duncan’s shield. Anything she could to earn his favor.
And it worked. Alistair had fallen in love with her just as she had with him. He was adorably awkward in his flirting, completely unsure of himself, flushed and flustered each time she returned his affections. And now they were engaged, set to be King and Queen of Fereldan. It hadn’t been an easy road for them, seemingly paved with plans gone awry and deadly war and traiterous king-killers, but looking back, she’d have done it all again. After all, Alistair had been her rock, standing strong by her side since before the battle of Ostagar. He’d seen her at her lowest, beaten down and hopeless, and still he chose her. She’d seen him struggle with her birth, with Goldanna, with having to shoulder the weight of being crowned King, and still she wanted to be his. Their love had been forged in the midst of a Blight, and nothing could tear them apart.
~
Katherine hummed as she made her way down the hall, heading towards the quarters she shared with her betrothed. She’d been in meetings all afternoon, and was looking forward to a quiet night in with her love.
As she entered the bedroom, she saw Alistair at his desk, penning a letter to the duke and duchess of Orlais. She paused to watch him for a moment, admiring the play of light across his face. In the flickering candlelight, his handsome nose cut a sharp shadow across his cheek, and his hair seemed to be woven from pure gold. She smiled as she watched him.
As she watched, Alistair sighed heavily, setting his quill in it’s stand and placing his head in his hands. He looked overwhelmed, completely lost, like he was held together with nothing but anxiety and stress. Her heart ached for her beloved; it was obvious that he felt in over his head, even with all the coaching he was receiving from both her and the Arl of Redcliff.
“You seem troubled, my love,” Katherine said by way of greeting. She walked forward, slipping her hands around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. He sighed again, leaning his head back to look her in the eyes.
“You might say that,” Alistair replied dryly. There was a smudge of link along his jawline, and she retrieved the handkerchief from her pocket, wiping it away gently. He leaned into her attention, warm brown eyes watching her face intently.
“Tell me about it,” Katherine urged gently, kissing his brow before standing up. “But not here. You need a break. You’ve been working for hours.”
“And yet I’ve made exactly zero progress,” Alistair grumbled, but he stood up, stretching his arms above his head. Katherine could hear his spine snap and pop mutely as he stretched.
“Come on,” Katherine said, leading him by the hand over to the lounge before the fire. It was nearing mid-autumn, and the workers had made sure the fire was roaring all day, keeping the encroaching chilliness at bay. In the rest of the castle, the stones had trapped the cold, each step leeching chill into her feet. It felt like she couldn’t get warm without Alistair holding her.
Sitting down, she pulled Alistair down next to her. He perched on the edge of the seat, eyes flickering over to the desk.
“Alistair. Relax,” Katherine told him, her voice firm but gentle. “The letter can wait.”
“But I…” Alistair turned to look at her, catching her teasingly pouty expression, and wilted. “Aw, not the face...alright. I suppose I could use a break.”
“Yes, you could,” Katherine replied smugly.
Alistair sat back, propped up against the arm of the couch, and opened his arms invitingly. Katherine curled up against his side, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet up underneath her. He was warm and solid at her side, putting off abundant body heat as he always did, and she sighed happily, finally warm for the first time that day.
She counted it a victory she’d been able to pull him away from his work at all; ever since the Archdemon had been slain, he’d been working day and night. It seemed to her that he was trying to prove that he was up to the task of being King, constantly doing one thing or another. If he wasn’t in a meeting or overseeing the troops, he was writing letters or pouring over thick books in the library, trying to cram as much knowledge as he could before his official coronation. She spent her time with him, reading or writing as well, but she had much less to learn than him; after all, she’d been raised a noble, and knew the ins and outs of daily life much better than he. Still, she knew he appreciated the company, and she enjoyed the time spent with him without the threat of the Blight at their backs.
The fire cast a soothing warmth over them both, and she sighed again, pressing her face to her love’s shoulder and closing her eyes for a brief moment. But she could feel the tension in Alistair, strung tighter than a bow, and she tilted her head to look up at him. He was staring at the fire with a far-off look in his eyes, brow furrowed.
“What’s worrying you, my love?” Katherine asked, reaching up to cup his face with one hand. She could feel his stubble prick against her palm; it was longer than usual, and she suspected it had been a couple days since he’d last shaved it. Alistair sighed and looped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and burying his face in her soft hair. While travelling, she hadn’t had the time to care for it the way she usually did, and now that she was in a home again, she’d taken great pleasure in restoring it’s former luster. Alistair seemed to appreciate it, judging by how often he played with her hair.
“I just...what if everyone’s right and I’m a lousy king?” Alistair huffed, one arm leaving her waist to gesture in the air. “What if I can’t get the hang of it and I go down in history as the worst king Fereldan’s ever seen?”
“That won’t happen,” Katherine reassured him, stretching up to place a kiss on the corner of his jaw. His stubble tickled her lips. “You’ve got me, for one thing. And Arl Eamon. And Leliana said she’d stay around, for now--surely her knowledge of the Game will be of use.”
“I know, I know,” Alistair sighed, dropping his hand to her hair and beginning to run his fingers through it. She shivered slightly at the attention. “But that would mean that I’m capable of being taught, you know.”
“I do know,” Katherine chuckled. “And I’m fairly certain you are capable of being taught.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Alistair mumbled, but there was a faint smile playing around his lips as he spoke. Katherine smiled up at him.
“If I thought you to be incompetent, would I have offered to rule alongside you?” Katherine reasoned. “After all, I’d look just as incompetent.”
“How do I know you didn’t do it to make yourself look smarter, hmm?” Alistair teased. “Isn’t there an old saying along those lines? ‘Place yourself next to dimwitted folk, and be the smartest in the room?’”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, love,” Katherine reprimanded him gently. “I know you’re worried, but it will be alright.”
“I just can’t get it out of my head that this is the worst mistake anyone’s ever made,” Alistair sighed, his head falling back to rest against the back of the couch. The position stretched his neck out, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he talked. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not sure I deserve it.”
“Of course you do,” Katherine said, her voice serious. “You’re the son of King Maric, and the brother to King Cailen. It’s in your blood to rule.”
“I’m also the bastard son of a servant girl,” Alistair reminded her.
“That doesn’t matter now, love,” Katherine said. “You could be a shoemaker’s son, and you’d still make an excellent king. You’re a good man, Alistair, and you’ll make a fine king--and an even better husband.”
“Husband, eh?” Alistair lifted his head to look at her. “You know, I think I like the sound of that. The wedding though--not too happy about that part. I just know I’ll make a fool of myself.”
“No, you won’t,” she said, smiling at him. “It’s going to be wonderful. Everyone’s agreed to stay for the wedding, you know. All our friends.”
“Except Morrigan,” Alistair pointed out, and she made a slight face.
“Let’s not talk about her right now,” Katherine shook her head. “It’s not important. What’s important is that in just a few days’ time, you and I will officially be announced man and wife, king and queen of Fereldan.”
“You know, I never did get to properly propose to you,” Alistair mused. “What with you announcing we were going to rule together at the landsmeet, and all.”
“And here I thought you were pleased not to have to do it,” Katherine teased, laughing. “I should have guessed that would come back to haunt me.”
“I suppose I should have seen it coming. You know, with all the declarations of love and wanting to be together forever and all that.”
“Perhaps,” Katherine chuckled. “I’m sure you’d have cottoned on rather quickly.”
“You’d be surprised at how oblivious I can be,” Alistair said seriously. “Did you know Sten is a qunari? I’d never have guessed!”
“Hush, you,” Katherine said. “You’re quite cunning when you want to be.”
“Who, me?” Alistair asked, acting shocked. He brought one hand up to point at his chest. “Cunning? Now I know you’re joking.”
“Am not,” Katherine leaned up to kiss his cheek again. Alistair smiled, turning his head to kiss her back.
“Did I ever tell you I never thought I’d get married?” Alistair asked, pulling back to look at her. “I never thought anyone would feel that way about me. Now that I mention it, I’m still not sure anyone does.”
“Oh, now you’re teasing me,” Katherine laughed, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “You know I love you.”
“Do I know that?” Alistair pretended to think for a moment. “Oh, yes, yes I do know that. And before you ask, I love you too.”
“Do I ever have to ask?” Katherine smirked, leaning up to kiss him. Alistair hugged her tighter to him, kissing her back. His lips were warm and solid against hers, the faint hint of stubble brushing her face as she pressed closer.
She felt him relax fully under her, and felt pride in that, in being able to comfort him, to quell the anxiety she knew lived in his chest with every breath. Alistair’s lips curved up in a smile against hers, and she couldn’t help but smile too, their grins melting against each other. The fire was warm, she was curled up in her love’s arms, and everything was right with the world, even if only for the moment.
