Chapter Text
It had been one of those days, Alistair thought as he flopped down onto his bedroll. They’d been attacked by assassins and Solona had not only allowed the assassin to live, but invited him to join them.
Join them!
With a huff, Alistair stripped off his armor and headed down toward the small creek near which they’d camped. He’d seen Solona sitting next to the assassin by the fire, their two golden heads bent together as they whispered. It had taken her mere minutes before she welcomed him as though they were old friends rediscovered.
He loved that about her. Or at least he had until she invited the assassin who’d tried to kill her into the fold.
After a quick scrub in the freezing cold water, he headed back toward camp, his clothing clinging to his damp skin. As he approached the warmth of the fire, he heard the Antivan let out an amused chuckle at whatever Solona said. Jealousy flared inside of him at the sound.
He shot a glare toward the two of them, the light in Solona’s warm golden eyes doing nothing to help tamp down his annoyance. Her face turned questioning, but he didn’t stop as he walked past his tent and out toward the forest. Evenfall was upon them as the sun finally slipped below the trees.
He slid his hand into his pocket, feeling the soft petals of the flower he’d carried since Lotering. He’d wanted to give it to her earlier… he almost had, finally working up the nerve to tell her what he felt about her, but then that bloody assassin appeared and sent his plans straight to the void.
“Alistair?” The low timbre of her voice washed over him, setting his senses on alert. With deep breath, he turned to face her. The glow of the fire barely reached them out here, but he could see the gleam of her silver necklace in the low light. He traced the path of the silver with his eyes, down to where the pendant disappeared beneath her clothing. She'd told him it was the only piece of her mother she had left. She had no memories of the woman who’d abandoned her, but she wore it all the same.
Solona stepped closer toward him and he snapped his eyes back up to her face. Her curving smile was cat-like in the low light and he reddened at having been caught staring at her… womanly features. Her hand lifted to her face to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she move in even closer to him. For a moment, Alistair forgot to breathe.
When he finally took in a breath, he inhaled the scent of her and, despite the chill of the early spring evening, he felt… Maker preserve him for the thoughts that consumed him. She cocked her head at him, that teasing smile still playing across her lips. “Are you well?” She asked him in mock concern, her golden eyes widening and her hand lifting up to his forehead where a slight sweat had broken out.
“I’m fine,” he forced out, struggling to remember the lines of Apotheosis to distract him from the feel of her fingers as they moved down the side of his face. Reciting the verses of Andraste’s death had always been a distraction before, but even that dark thought couldn’t diminish the light of the living, breathing woman standing here in front of him.
“If you're doing so well, you should come join us by the fire,” she said, trailing her finger along the collar of his shirt. “Leliana promised to sing.” The look she gave him over her shoulder as she sauntered away had him starting Apotheosis all over again.
Maker’s breath.