Hello :) from one of the prompt list of kisses: 36. “We can never be together” kiss ? thank youuuu
I finished a thing! This was really a great prompt to work on, it gave me a load of ideas from the (distant) upcoming AU We Are More Than Ghosts, which will be a retelling of the game but with Alistair as a prince instead of a Warden. This is a flashback to before Duncan tells the King Cailan about the Blight. I hope you like it!
Kingsway eveningsin Denerim were the perfect blend of seasons. Streetsstill warm from the bask of sunshine kept the city from becoming truly cold, butthe first nip of winter sank in the lilac air, and as the cloudless sky darkenedinto the wink of starlight, every breath emerged as a dragonsmoke puff of fog. As a young child, Alistair hadamused himself with the image, pretending a set of huge wings at his back, and fireburning in his belly as if that might stave off the cold that always encroachedinto his narrow pallet above the stables. He didn’t have to worry about that now,sleeping in a four-poster bed in the palace, among more pillows than he could everhope to use, but he remembered enough that he always brought blankets with him whenhe visited the alienage. He wished he could do more.
He tried toshake away the melancholy. Every time he thought about his life, his mind wouldinevitably stray to how he became a Prince in the first place, and from there downa path of what-ifs that left a sour taste in his mouth.
Startled fromhis musing, he turned towards the person sharing the roof with him. Ardea Tabris picked gritout from under her nails, her catlike eyes distant on the far wall of the alienage,nonchalant as if she hadn’t just knocked him sideways.
“To who?” heasked, sharper than intended.
Ardea, who in the years he had known her had nevershown any partiality to anyone as far as he could recall, tossed her hair back overher shoulder. In the low light, it looked like a spray of blood. “His name’s Nelaros,” she huffed.“You haven’t met him so you can stop looking so panicked. He’s from the alienagein Highever.”
His heart joltedat the mention of Highever, but tried hard to school his expression into something more supportive.“Do you love him?”
She rolled hereyes. “No.”
“Andraste’s knickers, Alistair, I haven’t even met him– won’t for another four months.” With another huff, she scratched a bobble of lintfrom her tunic and flicked it into the alley below. “It’s an arranged match, likeyour posh toffs do. Gotta keep the bloodlinesstrong, you know? There are already few enough of us elves left as it is.”
Not wantingto stoke the irritation in his friend’s voice, Alistair breathed out, leaning backagainst the warmth of the chimney. He glanced at her, at her frown and the sourpull of her mouth, and realised what he was seeing wasn’t rebellion, but resignation.
“What will youdo?” he asked.
A shrug. “Gothrough with it, I guess. I’d run off and find the Dalish, except nobody else has half a head on theirshoulders to get things done around here, and I’m used to the smell.”
There was apause, and he realised she was waiting for a reaction.
“Well then...”he ventured. “Congratulations?”
“That’s reallyall you have to say, isn’t it?”
He frowned.“I’m not sure what it is you want me to say.”
“Ugh. You’reso dense sometimes, and you’re still giddy over that prissy shem bitch.”
“Don’t callher that,” he snapped.
“Why not? Youmoon after her and she doesn’t care – she doesn’t even write to you anymore –”
“Yes she does.”But the retort rang hollow. Thinking about Rosslyn hurt, thinking about how hehad hurt her and driven her away hurt.
Beside him,Ardea sighed and folded her arms around her knees,and for the first time her usual mask of indifference slipped into real vulnerability.“I’m right here, and you don’t even see me.”
“I...” He rubbeda hand through his hair. “Oh. Oh. Dea, I –”
“Don’t,” shemuttered. “I already know we couldn’t be together, so just... don’t.”
With nothingelse to say, silence fell between them. The little light remaining in the sky seepedaway, and between one blink and the next stars winked onto existence, until Alistairfound himself idly picking out the shapes of constellations he had learned yearsago.
“Will you cometo the wedding?” she asked,still in the same small voice.
He hesitated,though only for a moment, until impulse drove him forward and he brushed achaste kiss against her cheek. “Of course. You’re still my friend, Dea.”
She rolledher eyes. “You’re the sappiest person I’ve ever met, Princeling.”
“And there’sno way I’d miss seeing you in a dress.”
