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Alistair was not fooling anyone.
The maids, the butlers, the guardsmen- even the gardener could read Alistair like a Chant. Despite being their king for nearly a decade, the man had yet to learn the artful skill of hiding his emotions.
He improved over the years, no denying that. Fereldan would not have lasted this long if their king did not pick up a trait or two. When Alistair took the throne, a few held their breaths in fear of having another foolish king that stood on accolades undeserving or worse, not of his own. However, Alistair Theirin proved himself capable despite the odds, showing how well of a king he was. But the telltale twitch of his lips, the squint of his brow, the reverberation of his voice clearly stated one absolute fact.
Their Queen was coming home.
For the past year, Queen Cousland went in and out of the palace, leaving right at dawn and coming home at dead of night. For how long before she stepped her foot back on the streets of Denerim varied, but her outings began to stretch far long enough for worried whispers to echo. No one spoke ill of their Queen, trusting that whatever mission she took upon herself, it mattered. So all that the staff could do was to proceed as normal and watch over their king as he waited for his wife.
Even as Alistair remained quiet while looking over documentation, the maids in the room practically felt the anticipation in the air. A visitor might not notice anything different, only seeing the focused and stern King of Fereldan scribbling notes at his desk, but everyone else? They couldn't miss the impatient tapping of his boot even if they tried.
So, while Alistair stayed in his office, working his way through the piles and piles of paperwork Arl Teagan dropped unceremoniously on his desk, the palace staff went to work to prepare for their Queen's arrival. The ladies in waiting prepared the bathtub, heating the water with rose petals for the comforts of the woman they served. The butlers made sure to busy any visiting dignitaries, leading them far from the main halls and the royal chambers. No one was to disturb their rulers, at least not for the night.
Queen Cousland arrived at the steps of the palace right as Alistair dropped his quill for the night. His uncle quickly shuffled the paperwork before bowing with a smile and walking out, leaving Alistair at his desk. The king waited for a brief moment, listening for any footsteps of an irritating noble with something to complain. Maybe a soldier with some business concerning Orlais that needs addressing. However, no sound reached his pointed ears except for the drumming in his chest.
The man barely waited for the usual 10 minutes before he bolted out of the office, running down the empty halls to greet his love.
Was it the taint that still lingered in their blood that called to each other like moth to a flame? The unmistakable pull of his heart that led him to her, Maker ignore the fact that both knew these halls well enough to meet each other at the same place. They both knew they would find each other even if you were to put them in the Kokari Wilds. If the Blight couldn't stop them, nothing else could.
She barely finished taking off the last piece of her traveling armor before her husband appeared before her in their bedchambers
And she barely opened her mouth before his came crashing on to her, lifting her in his arms in the process. She giggled between their desperate lips that wanted nothing but to know each other again. His hands roamed from her thighs to her rump, eager to feel her after so long. His nails racked across her clothes, almost begging to tear the fabric that prevented all the skin contact that they both craved. Her own hands went to caress his neck, her fingers slipping through his soft hair with motions that knew how to bring out loving moans and tantalizing mewls. She tilted her head, giving her lover the angle he needed to taste her even further. He lifted her on the armoire, placing himself between her legs which she instinctively wrapped around his waist.
Both of them could taste the salt of their shared tears but did not pull away as if fearing their love would disappear from their grasp. It was the evidence that they needed to confirm that this was not the many dreams that plagued their solo nights. They both knew what was at stake, the mission that could save them both from the inevitable fate. Yet still, not much eased the aching loss in their hearts when they laid on their beds alone. When they defeated the archdemon years ago, both thought they would be able to spend their lives together, hand in hand, never to part from each other's embrace.
The truth was not kind.
She was Queen, yes, but she also had a duty to the Wardens, a duty she held firm to. Alistair loved her for it, her loyalty to the people, but watching her leave the palace to fight the battles he once could but can never again?
When she finally hung up the Warden's armor to remain as Queen, both thought maybe it was the end of it, the long distance love that kept them at a moment's breath. They treasured that period of calm as they persevered through whatever the role of the throne threw at each other.
But alas, that peace did not remain as whispers of a Cure found its way to their palace. A cure that could potentially keep them together forever. How could she not pursue it?
So yet again, the Queen left the palace to seek the answers while her King stayed in the palace walls, waiting. No matter how many times she's left for the mission, the sight of her disappearing into the distance did not get any easier. Nor did it simmer the desperation that came with each reverent kiss and clinging touch.
Their breaths were audible between chapped lips as they finally pulled away. She cupped his face between her scarred hands, stroking the stubble he long stopped maintaining when she last left the castle. She bent down to nuzzled her nose on his cheek before gasping as he lifted her again in his arms. As if she weighed nothing to him, Alistair effortlessly carried her into their shared bath, the room filled with warm steam and the tickling scent of rose.
When he place her down, both of them made quick work of stripping down, teasing touches shared between the discarding of clothes. Alistair was the first to dip into the filled tub, humming pleasantly at the satisfying temperature. He shifted to make himself comfortable and looked up to his wife, brows wiggling playfully. She responded with a bright laugh before joining him into the water. Her head laid on his chest as she sunk into the tub. She squirmed to his feathered touch under the waters, the way they skimmed her bare skin. Her back arched when she felt his teeth graze her ears and nibbled.
He earned himself a pinch on the knee which he responded with a laugh and a kiss on her neck. She grumbled but patted his cheek affectionately.
Alistair grinned onto her skin, lips caressing the scars that littered her back, memories of the battles she fought over and over. They were a marvel, evidence of her tenacity that made her all the more beautiful. He pulled her closer into his chest, his thumbs grazing the underside of her breasts. His hands were playful, but still mindful of his exhausted wife.
She wrapped her arms around his neck behind her, pulling his head closer as he tasted the skin of her nape. She tried to keep her legs from bucking under the water but when Alistair started to suck on a particular dip of her neck, her legs kicked through the waters, spilling it past the rim of the tub.
His lips finally released her when it was clear a loving bruise would surely form on her. She flicked his nose playfully as he reached for the sponge on the table beside them.
Carefully lifting her arm up, Alistair dipped the sponge into the water before scrubbing her skin slowly, kissing her head as he did. He felt the way she gripped his knee under the water, fully aware of how her body seemed to rub into his as she begged for more friction. Maker, she knew how to undo him.
They spent almost a hour in the tub, discussing her journey between a few more kisses and sensual touches. This particular outing drained her more than usual, but the results seemed satisfying. There was hope in the horizon, they just had to be patient.
After drying themselves, Alistair lifted her into his arms before plopping her on their four poster bed. She sunk into the mattress, stretching herself on top of the sheets in a way that did not help the blood that rushed eagerly through his veins. Alistair watched her with a soft smile, studying her tired eyes that could barely peer back at him. Despite how drained she might be, nothing could stop her from wanting the man in front of her. She managed to lift her arms up, beckoning him to join her, to anchor her for the night.
Alistair fell into her embrace, his arms wrapping around her. Their warm rose scented skins met and touched as they fought back the exhaustion that wanted to stop them from continuing.
The night was long but their lives were not. Whatever time they had to share, it was now that they should seize it. The world will not wait for them, but tonight they will make it stay patient for their love.