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It was late, the fire in camp was burning low - she could feel the cold air sneaking in around her but she didn’t care. They were shuffling close together, her arms around his waist and his over hers. They circled around slowly while he hummed a tune she recognized from the Chant of Light.
He was a Templar, after all, she smiled lazily against his chest and buried her face against his chest. He pulled her closer, his voice dropping even lower and he hummed only for her ears.
They shuffled, a weird little lazy dance against the fading orange of the fire and she listened to his heart, wondering just when and where their lives would meet some sort of normalcy. Just then, he tucked her head under his chin, she could feel him smiling - that half thing he does with his mouth when he thinks he’s clever (and he usually is, most of the time).
"What?" she asks, his humming is interrupted with her question. He says nothing at first, his hands stroking her back slowly, his feet still carrying her through their slow dance.
"I think," he starts and she chuckles.
"Thinking is usually a dangerous thing for you, Alistair."
"Very funny," he quips, hugging her closer. She’s smiling, loving his warmth. "Would you marry me?"
The words are fluid, he didn’t even pause his steps but there’s a silence between them now while she processes his question.
"Did you…" She stumbles a little, he holds her steady and stops their movement all together. He pulls her away a little and takes her chin between his index and his thumb.
"Yes, I certainly did." He murmurs, she can hear the nervousness in his voice, the small tremble in his hand. "Well, if you don’t think it’s too much of a terrible idea, that is," he laughed quietly - something he often did when he was sure things were not going his way.
"Only if you kiss me," she replies, smiling, and Alistair obliges, grinning with joy against her lips.