Reunited
[I have no explanation for why this was written, or where it’s going to go among all my other WIPs (probably nowhere). Blame all the good Brosca/Alistair art that keeps showing up on my dash...]
Post-Inquisition Warden lovers old married couple reuniting somewhere in the mountains after Alistair goes to Weisshaupt to warn the other Wardens about Corypheus, IDK...(also, senior mabari Barkspawn)
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“Oh, hello, strange traveller!” His bright voice called out from the darkness just outside the small globe of light from her little campfire. Barkspawn raised her head and gave a soft ‘whoof’ of acknowledgment.
Brosca had heard him coming for awhile, and even if she hadn’t, the dog had risen from the comfort of the blankets in the tent, which she preferred in her old age, to wait by the fire when she’d caught his scent. Her eyesight and hearing may have started to fail, but her nose was as good as ever. He had no reason to try to sneak up on them, of course, not that he was very good at sneaking, anyway. But as soon as he’d seen the light from the fire, he’d nearly sprinted the rest of the way, his heavy Warden armor clinking and clanging all the way up the mountain pass.
Brosca looked up and rolled her eyes at him as he came into view, smiling like the beautiful dorky ray of sunshine he was. Out of breath, too, his cheeks flush. He looked just like the boy she’d met at Ostagar so many years ago, after racing Ser Jory around the fortress to impress her, or showing off his ‘Fereldan swordsmanship’ against a training dummy while she sat skeptically sharpening her daggers, wondering how all the thrusting and parrying would keep him alive against a horde of bloodthirsty monsters from the Deep Roads, most of whom didn’t even carry a sword, preferring just to rip your flesh off directly with their claws instead.
“I was supposed to be meeting someone here but it appears she has yet to arrive…might I share a seat here with you by the fire, pretty Dwarven lady whom I’ve never met before in my life?”
“This is only cute when we haven’t been separated for months…” she groaned.
Barkspawn whined at him, reiterating her mistress’ impatience.
“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” he huffed, slumping down next to her, and reaching down to scratch the dog behind her battle-scarred ears.
“Mmhm…”
“Shouldn’t we take things slow…take our time…get reacquainted?” He was still grinning like an idiot. Her beloved idiot.
“Alistair…” she sighed. He couldn’t tell if she sounded more relieved or exhausted.
“Yes, dear?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Without another word, he had his arms around her, pulling her almost entirely into his lap, as he leaned over her and pressed his mouth eagerly against hers.
“Maker, I missed you,” he muttered into the top of her head, as she trailed kisses down his chin and neck. Her deft hands had already begun working to loosen his armor just enough to tear it off of him.
“Same…” she grunted as he began daintily plucking at the laces of her leathers. She rarely wore her Grey Warden armor anymore, finding it ill-fitting and restrictive and…loud. Not to mention she preferred to remain anonymous as much as possible these days, and she was the only female dwarf Warden most people had ever heard of.
She quickly ran out of patience, and pulled him down by the shoulders to meet her lips again. They both followed the momentum all the way to the ground where getting each other undressed, and everything else, would be easier. Barkspawn gave the fumbling heap of them a sniff, and headed back into the warmth of the tent.
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