Work Text:
When Alistair was young, he walked in on a servant and a knight embracing in the stables. They didn't noticed him, too busy with each other to spot the small stable boy hiding behind the chestnut mare. He had wanted to scale the ladder, hide away in the hay, but something had kept him. There was something in the girl’s smile, the man’s tender touch on her waist that had stuck with him, had made him reconsider his Chantry lessons on desire.
It hadn't awaken something in him, exactly. He didn't start longing after girls, and he didn't have suppressed urges. That didn't happen until her.
Briana came to him one night, asking if he wanted to go down to the steam near camp to relax. It had only been a week since he’d worked up the courage to confess to her, and since then there hadn't been more than the occasional peck and some very brave hand-holding on Alistair’s part. The look on Briana’s face as she took his hand and lead him from camp, however, suggested she had something else in mind.
She likely scouted out the spot earlier when camp was being put up, finding the most serene spot she could. A glade of grass sloped down to a small stream, and the quiet chirping of crickets filled the air. The sky was scattered with clouds, but they were beginning to part to let the starlight show through. If Alistair was a poet, he’d have plenty to say on the place.
He must have stopped walking, because Briana turned to raise an eyebrow. “You've been on your feet all day,” she pointed out, gently tugging him forward, “do you really want to stand any longer?”
“No, you’re right,” he shook his head, “I’m ready to sit down and never stand again. Bury me where I lay.”
“I wouldn't go that far,” Briana chuckled, tucking her legs underneath her as she sat down. Alistair sat down next to her, legs stretched out as he watched the water. She took his hand in hers, just enjoying the view for a few moments.
As nice as it was, it was nothing compared to her. She had thrown on some street clothing they’d picked up, smuggler-style pants and shirt, and she looked absolutely beautiful despite it. Her hair was wavier than usual, and her skin positively glowed under the moonlight. Briana caught him staring, eventually, a sweet smile spreading across her face.
Gently, as if she might scare him with quick movements, she brought a hand to his face, turning him fully to face her. His eyes drifted closed, the tender touch almost too overwhelming. He didn't get to see the moment her mouth met his.
Her lips were soft, always softer than he remembered. He sighed through his nose as she tilted his head, the slow slide between them making his head pound and his palms sweat. His hands twitched in his lap, wanting to touch but not knowing how to ask.
Always the intuitionist, Briana pulled away, concern on her face. “Ali?” she asked, “are you-“
“Can I touch you?” Alistair blurted. His face flushed a deep red. Of course he would speak without thinking, without tact. He never was the smartest.
Her mouth opened in confusion, before she began to laugh. His shoulders relaxed, chuckling along with her. She would never seriously mock him, and when she smiled his world focused.
“The point of this outing was for you to touch,” she laughed, pushing hair out of her face. “You've truly never snuck away with local girls for some time alone?”
“I told you, there’s never been anyone like you. Are you saying you have?”
“Never anything so flippant. Gil and I would do this sort of thing when we were younger, but…” she trailed off. It was clear she was caught up with thoughts of home.
The Memory came to him again, of lovers finding comfort. And in that moment, he realized he wanted that for himself.
With confidence he wasn't sure he had, his hands came to wrap around Briana’s waist, pulling her closer to him. Her hands came to his chest to stead herself, surprise evident in her face.
“Well, my lady, I say we take advantage of the time before someone comes looking for us,” he joked. The curve of her waist felt perfect under his hands, helping him forget how clammy they still were.
She smiled like the sun, her mouth finding his again. Suddenly, everything had gone from soft and sensual to passionate and giddy. Briana’s arms wrapped around his neck, her tongue sneaking into his mouth as the kiss deepened. Alistair chuckled into the kiss, feeling warmth bubbling up from inside him as they leaned back onto the grass.
I’m not sure I can ever live without this, he thought to himself, before letting himself forget about everything else but her and this moment.