Seen me around and want to hit me up for a thread? Drop a prompt or starter here and I'll run with it. Anything goes - gen, smut, horror, whatever takes your fancy.
[Whether he's agreeing that he's lost his mind or that Oghren really is his first choice, she can decide. It's enough that he has her attention and not that old report on another darkspawn that insisted on causing trouble for them.
The Architect, Corypheus... it used to be simple, he's sure. All the old stories of past Blights and the darkspawn themselves never mention this sort of thing. Even most of the Wardens records have not a hint of there being truly intelligent darkspawn beyond the archdemons. Though as Alistair's coming to realise, that may be less because these things weren't known of before and more because of the Wardens' need for secrecy even from themselves. He's hardly in a place to judge. The two of them are keeping their share of secrets. The true reasons behind this journey of Robyn's. Their fears regarding Corypheus. How a Warden can survive slaying an archdemon. The Wardens have always kept secrets, often with good reason. But the hints they've managed to unearth so far make it seem like this is a dangerous one to have kept. One he hopes won't end up causing more trouble than it already has.
But he'll have ample time to dwell on all of this when he's alone. Now he has Robyn's hand warm against his cheek, bringing a smile to his face and he has to relish it while it lasts. Watching her reach for the paper he hums thoughtfully, as if seriously considering the prospect, and nods against her shoulder.]
He knows how to kill darkspawn. Maybe even better than I do. [The dwarf is a terrifying sight to behold in battle. Moreso knowing he's drunk even in the middle of the worst fight imaginable. Just think, if he fights like that drunk then maybe all they need to do is sober him up and the darkspawn won't stand a chance.] And along with his breath I think he could slay any ancient magister that dared raise its head.
[Which means the problem is sorted and he can accompany Robyn on her journey now. With that settled Alistair turns to kiss her cheek in return, murmuring in her ear-] It's not too late to let me come with you.
[He knows what the answer will be and why. But knowing doesn't make him hate it any less. So she's going to have to deal with him asking the same question right up until she leaves.]
Then, it's settled. [ She says crisply, beginning to "write a letter," meaning she mimes tracing a letter against the paper without actually holding anything in her hand, moving with flourish. ] I'll send for him right away, he'll solve everything, and we'll vanish into the night and become Orlesian cheese traders like we've always wanted to be.
[ She can't help it: the mention of their teasing, of one of the jokes that's traveled with them over the years, has her heart flutter with all of the feelings she has for him and she turns, abandoning the ruse. Robyn wraps her arms around his neck, leaning back slightly over the table and the still-blank parchment just behind her. The Warden nuzzles briefly at him with the tip of her nose, mostly trying to tickle him, finally coming to rest with their foreheads touching. ]
If I trusted anyone else enough for this, I would give them the job in an instant. [ Robyn says finally, smiling sadly. ] You know that I would.
[ If only they could give up their duties as Grey Wardens to live the rest of their lives together. Unfortunately for that dream, though, both are too invested in the order and in the heart of it all to do so. The only thing that could possibly stop them from being together, the only thing that's ever managed to keep them apart, has been their work for the Wardens. Sometimes, she tries to make herself resent it, to curse the order and its never-ending line of impossible and dangerous missions. It never lasts, though, and she ends up feeling helpless and guilty in the face of a cause that she would give everything for. She is giving everything for it: not returning home to Highever, parting ways with the man she loves with all her soul, eventually dying once her Calling claims her.
Robyn shifts closer, drawing him into a hug, breathing in the scent of him as she tilts her chin upward into the embrace, the scruff of his cheek tickling her own. ]
Promise me you won't grow a beard. [ She says suddenly, pulling back to study him, trying to keep the clear amusement from her lips. ] I would never recognize you if you did. I could stand in front of you and still wonder whatever had happened to the long-lost Alistair Theirin.
[He watches the 'letter' being written with approval, eyes bright with amusement at the idea of Oghren sweeping in to fix all their problems.] Perfect. Nothing would make me happier.
[Shifting back to give Robyn room to move, he leans close again as she holds him, letting some of his weight rest against her so she can't easily move away. Even as he's squirming at the faintly ticklish sensation of her nuzzling him Alistair is doing his best to commit every second they're together to memory. Resting a hand on the small of her back, the other comes up to cup the back of her head and he stares back down at her with the same besotted smile he's worn when they're alone since he'd first laid eyes on her, or so he'd claim. In truth it might have taken a little longer than that. But not much.]
I know, I know. [Yet knowing what must be done never makes doing it any easier. Sighing, he lets himself be pulled into an embrace, curling around her protectively. The moment doesn't last long as Robyn pulls back to make what is clearly an insult to his manliness. Looking down his nose at her severely Alistair frowns.]
You don't think I'd look ruggedly handsome with a beard? Something like Duncan's? You wound me. [The attempt at affront doesn't survive long as he kisses the tip of her nose before rubbing his own rough cheek against hers. He's grinning when he pulls back to meet her gaze again.] If it pleases my lady, I shall shave every day in anticipation of your return.
[Arching an eyebrow he asks-] Is there anything else you'd have me do in your absence my love? Shall I chronicle each day and how much I miss you? Or light a candle in the chapel every night you're gone, until the Maker himself has no choice but to take notice of my despair and bring you back to me?
[It's all in jest yet privately he thinks he'll be writing her every day, regardless of the fact that once she sets out getting any letters to her will be almost impossible. They'll just pile up in a drawer somewhere until she gets back and he has to decide whether to give them to her or burn them out of embarrassment. Which isn't even a question, of course he'll give them to her so they can laugh over how ridiculous he is.]
Nothing? [ She laughs lightly, briefly letting her mind wander to all of the many scenarios that she imagines would make him (and, in most of them, her) happy. There are a lot, but... unfortunately, it's easier to dream of them than to make them a reality. Their lives are intensely complicated and they're so infrequently together.
It says a lot about their relationship, though, that they've only grown closer and closer in the years that they'd rarely been in each other's company.
As such, Robyn gazes up at him, lost in his eyes, torn between memories and the present. No, I have to be here. Now. If she doesn't commit this to memory, she won't have as much to hold on to when she's alone, likely far below the ground. The Warden reaches up to press a light kiss to his lips, hovering there, raising a hand to trace the outline of his jaw. When she hugs him and he returns the gesture, she savors each second of his larger form draped over her, always feeling incredibly safe when he does, though the world is far from it. ]
You have your own rugged handsomeness, Warden mine. [ Again she laughs, a light giggle this time, gaze sweeping the prickle of hair outlining his face. When he leans in to nuzzle her, she cries out in surprise and delight, squirming to get away from his ticklish stubble. ]
Oh, don't do that. You know what I mean. [ Sometimes, men let their bears get out of control. Oghren's had been a sight, but that could have been a dwarven thing. There had been some days where Alistair himself, ten years younger, had neglected to shave, and though she hadn't really noticed, herself, Wynne or Leliana would make quiet suggestions to the other Warden sometimes when it happened. Whether or not they were doing it to try and encourage the young pair getting together, she has no idea, even now; why should their affections for each other have anything to do with what the hair on his face looks (looked) like? ]
Come with me. [ She mutters at a little whine, but she doesn't, can't, mean it. Someone has to stay with the order and settle the strangeness there, to look into Corypheus while a cure for their poisoned blood is found. Robyn peers demurely up at him, next adopting a saddened little pout, kissing along his not-beard, gradually making it all the way around. ] I'll be lonely in a tent all by myself. I've had it with not turning to find you there, snoring, in the middle of the night.
[ And for so many other reasons, but... he knows. She'll certainly miss his presence with a vigor the second they part ways. ]
Almost nothing. [Or, yes, a great many things some possible - her safe return from this journey - some far from it - the two of them living happily and safely together with a home and a family, never needing to worry about the darkspawn or the taint ever again. But this is what they have and he won't waste time on what could be while he still has Robyn here with him.
Tilting his head to press into her hand, Alistair smiles.] You're just saying that to get me to agree. And to stop. [Which just means he has to curl down and rub his face against her neck, the rough rasp of stubble against her skin quickly stopping in favour of pressing a kiss to the pulse at her throat. He's almost tempted to ignore the request, absurdly hoping for anything that might bring Robyn back faster even if it were simply to tease him for looking like an overgrown dwarf. A very handsome overgrown dwarf but still.]
I will. I'll follow you anywhere. [He can't but she has to - does - know it's still true. If he could he'd follow her wherever she was bound, down into the very depths of the Deep Roads without question. This Corypheus is really just selfish, raising his head after having not been heard of for centuries. He could have had the decency to wait until they've found this cure. The cure Alistair himself only half believes can be found but he believes in Robyn with every fibre of his being. If it can be done she'll find a way.]
But I don't snore so you'll be missing out there either way. [He's never heard himself snoring so clearly he doesn't. Any snoring she's heard in the past has been from her hound or other companions and he'll argue that to the bitter end when they're back to sleeping side by side as they should. Attempting to catch Robyn's mouth with his own as she kisses his face, Alistair murmurs-] I'll miss you too. Every time I have to wake up alone.
[Expression turning solemn he shifts back a little to give himself space. Reaching up and fishing under his shirt he tugs a familiar, cracked silver emblem of Andraste's Flame over his head and presses it into her hand.] I was going to wait till you were leaving but... take this with you. So I'll still be with you.
[ The moment she sees the medallion she looks almost startled, instinctively pressing it back toward him. ]
I could never. [ Robyn says firmly, eyes blazing with intention. ] Not after everything. I know what it means to you, and you'll be with me whether I've taken it from you or no. You always are.
[ The sentiment is one she'll hold close, but she can't bring herself to take his mother's token. She thinks of when she'd first found it in Redcliffe, unsure of what to make of the cracked thing. She thinks of his expression when she'd turned it over to him, how full of wonder and awe he'd seemed at Eamon's repairing of the gift. Robyn closes his fingers over it again, clasping both of her hands over his. ]
I want you to keep it. [ The Warden says firmly, looking up at him with stubborn determination. ] You may find you need its strength in what's to come, as a reminder of those who care for you.
[ Of his mother and his uncle, long gone. Of her, the young Grey Warden of a decade past and of the present--
She seems as if something dawns on her and steps away slowly, slipping her grasp from his. ]
... I've just thought of something, I'll... be right back.
[ And Robyn slips from the room. It isn't much later that she returns, looking a little breathless, hurrying back over to him with a strange kind of brightness to her eyes. ]
Maybe this isn't the time. [ She says quietly, a little flustered. ] But-- Maybe it's the only time. Alistair-- [ She raises a hand to thumb at his cheek, though the other is still at her side, clutched at something in her fist as she strokes gently over his face. ] ... Hang on.
[ Maker, but she feels like a child at the moment. Robyn drops her hand and produces the other, unfurling her fingers to reveal two rings in faded gold, wedding bands for a man and woman. ]
I got them from Fergus: they were my parents'. [ She continues softly. ] I thought, just now... this seems right. We never needed for things to be official, but... maybe I want it that way, after all.
[ The palm stays open and she frets a little at her lower lip as if she's afraid he'll scorn the idea. ]
I am yours, just as I've always been. [ The Warden finishes, lifting his free hand with her own to press her lips to his knuckles. ] I want everyone to know that just as I do.
[He sighs, still holding the amulet as Robyn leaves, fond exasperation on his face. He's not prepared to drop the subject just like that - it's something he's put some thought into and is prepared to argue the point if he has to. Once she returns from whatever it is she's rushed off to do. Leaning back against the table Alistair waits patiently for Robyn to return, thumb rubbing absently over the surface of the amulet as he does.
When she's back, he shoots her a questioning look but holds his tongue. As curious as he is about what prompted her to rush off like that he knows there will be a good reason for it and she'll explain in time.
Although it seems she's having some difficulty putting it into words. With a worried frown he glances down at her clenched fist, mouth opening to ask what's wrong when she opens her hand at last.
He stares at the rings uncomprehendingly, mind blank and mouth hanging open until he gathers the presence of mind to close it.
...Her parents' rings. Her parents' rings. His gaze finally drags up to Robyn's face, disbelief written plain in his eyes. Her words shake it loose, too many other feelings to be easily untangled rushing in to replace it.
Finally, shakily, he exhales and covers her outstretched palm with his own, the amulet and rings caught between their hands. His other hand slips free to cup her cheek, mouth working soundlessly before he can finally force sound past the lump in his throat.]
I- [He stops and swallows, eyes suspiciously bright. The words 'are you sure' are on the tip of his tongue - stupid, given they've spent all these years together and he's never once had reason to think Robyn might one day no longer want him by her side. In a practical sense this will change nothing, just as Robyn says. They've each been the others since the Blight. But it does matter. Making such vows, before Andraste and the Maker for everyone to know-]
Nothing would make me happier. [His voice is tight but Alistair is distantly aware that he's smiling so broadly his cheeks hurt. Ducking his head he kisses her, murmuring against her lips-] I love you. Even if I should have been the one asking you.
[ She almost has to laugh at his reaction, because although she would be just as surprised, it's still incredibly endearing. She clutches their hands together, leaning into his touch, heart still hammering in her chest.
Nothing would make me happier. Still feeling like a younger girl, her stomach flips a bit and she ducks her chin, blushing and grinning brightly. She's in the midst of trying to determine a response when he kisses her and she kisses him back fiercely, her own hand rising against his face again, wanting more than anything for this, for them, to continue, to not need to part, after all. Maker, after all we've done, after what we've given, please-- ]
I love you, too. [ Robyn giggles, brushing his nose with hers in a brief nuzzle. ] And-- Hang 'should have,' we've always done things our way, and... I thought this would be a good time. We can say it was all your idea, if you like.
[ She doesn't care a bit, so long as he really does want to go through with it. When she'd been in Highever, growing up, she'd always imagined marrying a faceless, but handsome prince, or at least a noble, as her imagination dictated. Their family's status could well have allowed for either, once. Even so, they'd always just been fantasies, and they'd seemed much less important as she'd grown. She was close to her family and enjoyed her life as it was; why would there be any need to change that?
Technically, maybe, she'd be marrying royalty (though, of course, he'd renounced his claim to appease Anora). It matters even less now than ever, though, because she knows far and away that her feelings for Alistair would be there, would be just as strong and true, no matter where he'd come from. ]
We can go soon, before-- [ "Before we go our separate ways." Robyn swallows. ] We could go to the nearest Chantry or just find the closest Revered Mother, and-- We could really do this, Alistair. If you'll have me.
[For a moment it's possible to forget where they are and what is waiting for them. It's almost like back in that first year during the Blight, even the looming threat of the darkspawn failing to dim the joy of new love. The years since have matured them both but this is like that first giddy rush when he knew his feelings were returned.]
Much as I'd like to claim the credit I wouldn't dream of it. [And in truth he wouldn't want to. Tradition be damned, he's going to tell anyone who cares to hear it - and everyone who doesn't - that Robyn Cousland asked him to marry her. He'll sound like some ridiculous Orlesian noblewoman bragging about her engagement and he doesn't even care.] It's a perfect time.
[It could only be better if they weren't going to be separated in the near future. A prospect that is even more unwelcome knowing that it means, even if they find a Revered Mother now, they'll have only a few days together as husband and wife. There's another plea for her to take him with her on his tongue - or a suggestion that they should wait and plan a huge ceremony for next season, somewhere in Ferelden and it will take simply months to organise the guest-list alone and he can't do it on his own - but he swallows it all back down. This is enough. It's more than he'd ever hoped for growing up the unwelcome, unwanted bastard and is better than a thousand thrones he'd never wanted.]
Yes. Maker, yes. [He laughs. How could that even be a question?] Of course I'll have you. Forever. I can't let the only woman who can put up with me escape. [Pausing, Alistair kisses her nose.] We can go now.
[He makes no move to go anywhere just yet, despite the suggestion. He wants this yes, wants to swear himself to her forever before the Maker but he's almost afraid to move lest something goes wrong or he wakes up.]
I'm not the only woman who puts up with you, but I am the luckiest. [ Gently she bumps their foreheads together, laughing lightly, giddy and lovesick and overwhelmed in the rush of the moment. She slips her hands into his, dropping them, though the amulet and rings are still caught in between. ]
Er-- [ Something occurs to her and she steps back a moment, though she doesn't disentangle their hands. ] Should we... change our clothes? I don't care, really, but I know I must look like quite the sight and, if we're going to remember this forever and ever, I'd like for you to remember me as looking a good deal more than grimy.
[ Robyn laughs again, only half-serious. Yes, she'd like for their memories to be picture-perfect, but their lives have never been exactly that. She doesn't mind what the ceremony looks like so long as he's there with her. As such, the Warden shakes her head, dipping her chin in a sheepish smile before amending herself. ]
Never mind that. Let's go. [ She tucks the amulet and rings alike safely into her cloak before tugging him out by the hand, leaving everything else as it had been on the table. Her heart pulls her on, urging them forward so they would have as much time together to form the moments that would warm her in what would undoubtedly be lonely nights. ]
Hm. [He takes a long few moments to look her over critically from head to foot and back again. Finally meeting Robyn's eyes the serious expression dissolves into a smile.] I have to say grimy works for you my dear. You look perfect.
[Alistair squeezes her hand, only half joking. She could be smeared with darkspawn blood or worse at the time and it wouldn't make the memories any less precious. Though he is glad she's not covered in worse. Following her out the door into the keep he stays a step behind Robyn so he can watch her tugging him along.]
Maybe I should be the one wanting to put something prettier on so you don't change your mind half-way through.
[Although he wouldn't say no to the opportunity to see Robyn in a pretty dress for the ceremony he's not sure she even owns one any more. The life of a Warden doesn't often call for fine clothes or big, fancy ceremonies. Good thing that wouldn't suit them anyway. Small and private will be just perfect. His only regret is that their friends and family - Robyn's brother and Teagan and their companions from the Blight - can't be here. But even just getting invitations to them all would take longer than they have and now that they've come to this Alistair doesn't want to wait any longer.
They reach the small chapel quickly, the place all but empty at this hour. Given how isolated the fortress is there's no Revered Mother permanently there but those from the nearest villages will occasionally make the journey up Broken Tooth to Weisshaupt with the caravans of supplies so that they might serve the Warden's spiritual needs. They're in luck as an older woman, tough as dried leather from a lifetime in the Anderfels, had arrived earlier in the week. She considers them as they walk in hand-in-hand and smiles faintly.]
Now there's a familiar sight. [She chuckles and shakes her head at them.] But usually it's some lad and lass from the village rushing into things.
You say that because you're used to me grimy. [ She insists, grinning brightly, nudging him in the side. ] The days I've spent in your company where I looked halfway presentable, I could count on one hand.
[ Basically. Most of their time together has been in camp, on the battlefield, in fortresses. They haven't really benefited lately from the luxury of either of their bloodlines (not that either care or complain, though). ]
I'm still waiting to see you in that dress. [ She says pointedly, laughing afterward, despite herself. ] You know I would marry you clean, dirty, in a dress, or as naked as your name day. I love you.
[ Robyn rises up to kiss him on the cheek as if to prove it, and then off they go.
The chapel is exactly what she'd pictured, quiet and small and candlelit. The Revered Mother looks them over, amused, and Robyn can't even pretend to be anything but the love-drunk girl that she is, despite the armor of the Grey Wardens and the years that sometimes weigh on her expression. ]
We aren't much better than that, Revered Mother. [ She admits, both still grinning, but managing to speak in a respectful tone. ] ... I imagine you can guess why we're here, but I wouldn't have you leave your duties if you're very busy tonight.
[ The woman blinks, glancing around, and the stark silence is even more evident. ]
Yes, very busy. [ She chuckles again, and Robyn blushes. ] Of course, I would be happy to help two Grey Wardens who steal away in the middle of the night to seek the blessing of the Maker. Are we expecting any others? Witnesses, perhaps?
[ Solemnly, Robyn shakes her head, clutching tight at Alistair's hand. ]
No; it's only us. [ Rushing into things? Maybe. She can't bring herself to care. Not with the love pounding in her chest and bringing a light to her eyes all over again. The Revered Mother glances between them, smiling fondly, warmly, then nods. ]
Very well. Whenever you two are ready, we can begin.
Ask me again when you get back and I'll think about it.
[If wearing a dress could guarantee she'd come back safely then he'd be raiding someone's wardrobe already. As it is, Robyn's going to be waiting a lot longer to see him like that. As funny as would be to turn up in the chapel with him in the dress and her in a fancy suit the average Revered Mother might not appreciate the joke. Or she might not care. Any Chantry Mother was used to men in skirts after all.
Naked would definitely be going too far though.
But the Mother who greets them as they enter seems like she might be able to handle the pair of them whatever they turned up in. Which is almost more than Alistair himself can say as she waits for them to be ready. It's not that he thinks it's too fast - they've known each other and loved each other for years. And if Robyn's mission fails then they won't have too many years left to them. But no matter how many they have he wants to spend them with her.
He wants this as much as he's ever wanted anything, but for what may be the first time in his life, Alistair is worried he won't be able to find any words. He wants to be able to say something more than the normal vows, something that will express just how important Robyn is, how much she means to him but there simply aren't any words that could hope to convey feelings so strong. He should have thought about this sooner, written something down-
He looks at her again, her eyes bright, grip tight on his hand and the moment passes. He can spend the rest of his life thinking of ways to tell her how much she matters. Today is for promising that - the rest of his life.
Squeezing Robyn's hand he nods and turns to face her properly, standing before the Mother. Alistair holds out his hand for the ring with a smile, not looking away from her.]
I'm ready if you are. Unless you'd rather go first my love?
[ And she gingerly places her mother's ring into his hand, pressing lightly, keeping her father's for herself, for now.
Here they are, standing in front of each other, seeing each other very, very clearly. The Revered Mother is necessary, but she's also just like any other statue in the Chantry, another stone Andraste with a faint smile and a mission. Robyn hopes with all her heart that the Maker and His Bride are watching out for them, that they'll keep both husband and wife safe. Most of all, she prays that she'll find a cure to save the order, not only to ensure that she and Alistair can lead a long life together, to maybe start a family, but also so that all those who have given so much to protecting their world can be free of the curse that goes along with it.
She doesn't shut her eyes to make these silent pleas, but instead she stares hard into the face of the man that she loves above all else, heart pounding, so many words busting to be said but not passing her lips. Like her husband-to-be, there are a million things that she wants to say to know, that she wants him to know now and before she leaves, maybe for the last time, but it isn't the time. Even now, it isn't the time. After this sacred vow, she'll find a way to tell him. To show him. To prove to him and to the world that the love of the Hero of Ferelden isn't something to be taken lightly.
Robyn squeezes his hands, face full of emotion, attention saved exclusively for the other Warden and his own promises for her, for them. ]
[Nodding, Alistair takes the ring, almost fumbling it at first. His heart is pounding as well, his smile fading as he takes a deep, steadying breath and solemnly reaches for Robyn's hand. The words rise up, simple and familiar from ceremonies he's watched before but never feeling as important as they do now.]
I swear, unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste, to love this woman the rest of my days.
[He drags his gaze away from her face to slip the ring on her finger, squeezing her hand in return when it's in place. His attention is momentarily fixed on the sight before he exhales and looks back up. Robyn's always been beautiful and wonderful but right then he thinks she might rival Andraste herself. Not the sort of thought he should be entertaining when making vows before the Maker and His Bride but they fell in love too. They must understand how he feels as he searches for something more to say that might convey just how blessed he feels.]
I swear. I will follow you wherever you lead and wait as long as I must to by your side again. Whatever trials we face we'll never be apart.
[Still nowhere near all of what he wants to tell her but they'll be here all day if he tries to put it all into words. Instead Alistair just nods, glancing briefly at the Revered Mother for approval before turning his attention back to Robyn.]
[ Robyn has seen one or two marriages, but only in passing, a transient figure wandering in the background of the scene and having no purpose within it. She doesn't know if there are any "required" words, exactly, but she follows his lead, easily smiling, beaming, even. ]
I swear, unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste, to love this man for the rest of my days. [ Her stomach tumbles nervously, fluttering with the dizzying emotion she feels. Robyn almost forgets herself, staring back at him, but with a light laugh and apologetic smile she places the ring gingerly onto his finger. It makes her think of her family, of what her parents might have thought of this, but she also knows that they would be happy and proud of the person she'd become.
Robyn dips her chin briefly, smiling more gently. ]
I swear that I will always love you, will always be loyal and true. I promise that I will return to you no matter what happens, and while I'm away, you will never be out of my mind and my heart.
[ As with Alistair, the Revered Mother meets her eyes and smiles gently, encouragingly. ]
The Maker has heard your vows. [ The old woman begins, holding one hand up and laying the other briefly over their own, joined hands. ] By His blessing, and by the blessing of Andraste, I hereby pronounce you man and wife. [ The Revered Mother lowers her hands, then, still offering the pair a warm, almost fond smile. ] Congratulations.
[ Did most of the weddings she oversaw have applause, friends, and family? Robyn only thinks on it for a moment, but doesn't feel regret or sadness. Instead, the Warden rises up to kiss her husband, cupping his cheek with her free hand.
I swear, Alistair. I mean it with everything I am. ]
[His heartbeat almost drowns out the Mother's words but the important part echoes loud. He barely drags his attention away from Robyn long enough to shoot the old woman a grateful smile then all his focus is back on his new wife. His arms wrap around her waist, all but lifting her off her feet as he kisses her back.
They might be missing the usual friends and family to wish them well and while he might wish they could have done this the normal way, making their vows before those they care about, the moment is perfect as it is. This is just for them, seizing the chance for happiness when it comes like they have since the beginning. There will be time to celebrate with those closest to them once Robyn has returned safely as she must now. The Maker and Andraste have accepted them as husband and wife, they can't be so cold as to let that be taken away immediately.
Several long moments pass before there's a polite cough beside them. Pulling away from Robyn, Alistair blinks at the Revered Mother, his cheeks turning pink at the amused look on her face.]
I shall enter this into the Chantry's records. You two should go celebrate while you have the chance.
[It's admittedly fairly obvious that the pair of them are expecting to be separated soon, not uncommon among the Wardens as it is. Alistair is more than happy to take the hint, nodding and slipping his hand down to claps Robyn's tightly.]
Thank you. This means a lot to us.
[An understatement given how he's smiling but she can see that. He steps towards the door, hands still clasped and pauses, looking down at Robyn.]
[ She doesn't answer, and instead gives his hand another squeeze. She calls out her thanks to the Revered Mother as they depart, nearly forgetting, speaking in a breathless, happy shout. Then, they step over the threshold and face the cool, night air, united more now than ever.
There isn't a destination, really. Certainly not back to work, not yet. The Warden travels in silence where she is usually chatty, eyes bright with the moon as she leads them on. The pair walks through the grass, over small, sloping hills, stopping at a little peak that overlooks a town in the distance. Its warm lights welcome them from below and the night shines high above them.
It's perfect. Robyn sighs dreamily, finally releasing his hand to settle down cross-legged on the ground. She draws up her knees after a while to hug them, wrapping her arms tightly around them, fingers playing at the ring, new on her finger, even as her mind wanders. ]
I always thought I would marry a prince, when I was a little girl. [ She teases lightly, smiling over at him. ] And here you are.
[ Never mind that he'd renounced all titles. The throne had never been very important to either of them, not in the way that their duty is. Ferelden is. The Wardens are. ]
I couldn't have dreamt of a more perfect husband. [ She asserts quietly, but firmly. ] Not ever.
[Alistair settles down beside her, shoulder-to-shoulder. For a time it's quiet, each of them lost in their own thoughts looking out at the world spread out below them. He's content, however briefly. Distantly he knows that for all the joy of the past hour at best the future is still waiting. But right now is a time to celebrate in their own way.
He's pulled from his thoughts when Robyn speaks, surprise quickly chased away as he laughs.] Here I am.
[And happy to be a prince if it would make her happy. One far removed from any throne or even his father's kingdom but somehow he doubts Robyn's younger self cared about specifics. And she certainly was never interested in him for his bloodline or claim to the throne.]
Are you sure you wouldn't prefer someone who doesn't - supposedly - snore? [Shaking his head, Alistair curls an arm around his wife's shoulders. He pauses a moment and then tugs at her, encouraging her closer so he can hold her properly.]
I never thought I'd be lucky enough to meet anyone like you. When I was younger- [He snorts. He hadn't really thought about girls or marriage as a stableboy. When they had started to be something he thought about he'd thought he'd be spending the rest of his life as a templar and would be lucky to meet many women at all. He certainly hadn't expected joining the Wardens to be the thing that led him to his future wife.] I never thought I'd be this happy. I still don't believe it most days. In fact, maybe you should pinch me just to be sure I'm not dreaming and one of the sisters is going to come yell at me soon for oversleeping.
You absolutely snore. [ She points out with a cheeky grin, easily encouraged to settle onto his lap when prompted, sitting curled against him with her legs both off to one side. ] I think I can consider myself the present expert on Warden Alistair's nighttime noises.
[ Of all varieties. She laughs lightly, snuggling into his chest, sighing contentedly. Yes, she knows all about his snores, as they find their way into each other's assigned quarters more often than not, unless one is away. Though they can't share the same sorts of evenings they had during the blight, when they traveled across Ferelden, always together in camp, but no one seems to feel it necessary to try and keep them apart. Two of the Grey Wardens who ended the Fifth Blight have certain leeway, after all.
At his suggest, Robyn reaches up to pinch him as request, lightly taking his nose between her fingers. After, as if apologizing, she plants a kiss to it. ]
It isn't a dream. [ She reassures him softly, and though her childhood had been a far cry from his, she has trouble believing that things had worked out this way, too. ] You're a hero. A married hero. [ She adds, and kisses his nose again. ] More deserving of happiness and luck than anyone I've ever met.
[ For everything he'd endured before they met, and even after, he's been nothing but forgiving, kind, and a slew of other, positive qualities. People like Alistair don't exist much anymore, except for in the stories. ]
[...Alright, she may have a point there.] I should hope you are the expert. If anyone else has been sneaking in to listen to me sleep I'd rather not know.
[Shale might have been able to challenge her for the title, back during the days of the Blight. But that was years ago and is still creepy, even now.
Wrapping his arms around her, he rests his chin on her head. He's going to miss this. All of it. The nights spent together, the companionship. And having someone around who laughs at his jokes. Some of the older Wardens seem to have forgotten how to laugh and no attempt to help has been successful so far.
Even though he requested it, Alistair pouts at the pinch, fighting not to smile as Robyn kisses the spot.] Now that I know that I'm awake and my wife can be a cruel woman...
[It might be time for some payback.]
I think you're getting confused about which of us is the hero here, my dear. I'm just a companion to the hero. [Something he's perfectly fine with. She's far more deserving of than title than him. And, importantly, it gives him one more thing to tease her with.] Or do I need to find someone to remind you?
[Not that he's planning on going anywhere but it wouldn't be hard to find some new recruit in awe of the Hero of Ferelden. There's got to still be at least one who hasn't seen the pair of them at their most ridiculous and can still idolise her.]
And I'm no more deserving than you. I certainly wouldn't have made it this far alone. [He can't imagine facing the Blight without her. While the years that followed have been somewhat easier with everything looming on the horizon ... he's glad that they have this moment.] But since you put it like that, I think we both deserve a lot more happiness and luck in our future. Years more of it. Or at least a chance to get told off for not inviting anyone to the wedding.
Calen used to love sleeping with you. [ Robyn says wistfully, leaning into his grasp. After a thoughtful pause, she adds: ] We should get a mabari. It can split its time with the two of us; it'll be like a big, slobbering baby.
[ The child they would never be able to have. Unconsciously, she curls a little more against him. ]
Oh, enough of that. [ He knows better than anyone how much she hates the title. ] I say we're all collectively the Heroes of Ferelden, since we all ended the blight together, and I won't hear another word of argument about it.
[ She probably will, because they bicker about it all the time, but that just means she'll need to refine her own points of contention to verbally beat him into submission (loving wife as she is). ]
Neither would I. [ Robyn agrees solemnly. ] I thought for sure I would die soon after my Joining, but... we really did it, didn't we? All of us.
[ They'd made it. Survived. Accomplished their very difficult goal, way back when. ]
I think we've had quite a lot of happiness and luck so far. [ The Warden points out, smiling. ] Not that I would say no to more...
[His arms tighten around her. Calen had been one of her only links left to her family and he knows how difficult it had been for her when the hound passed. Alistair himself still missed the old mabari sometimes, even more so knowing that Robyn would be going out there without even her hound's protection.] I like that idea. We could go to Highever and see if they've had any new litters. You can pick one out.
[He can guess what she's thinking, though it's something they haven't much spoken about. It's impossible not to think of Morrigan and her child then, out there somewhere. It feels unfair in a way, to know that he has a child while she can't and won't ever, as things stand. But if this cure is real... Alistair hasn't dare let himself think of what might mean and he thinks she must feel the same. But he wants to believe it could be possible. Maybe soon they can talk about a family as something really possible.]
Not today you won't.
[But another day and another, when she's come back, and another after that. He'll argue plenty then. Just to annoy her. Out of love, of course. (Two can play that game.)]
You'd better not. [He growls, freeing an arm to tickle her ribs in reproach.] You need to be asking for plenty more luck for the both of us. You have another miracle to work still, my love and no one else can manage it.
[No one else has her track record for accomplishing the impossible so there's really no other choice.]
I'm sure they have. [ She laughs lightly, leaning in his strong grasp, nestling in the crook of his neck. ] Would any Ferelden estate be a Ferelden estate without a constant stream of mabari?
[ Fergus could surely part with one. In fact, she suspected he'd been planning on offering her one on her next birthday... though, now, she has no idea where she'll be during that time.
Robyn does think wistfully of the family they may never have. The Hero of Ferelden allows herself this weakness and draws in as close as she can to her new husband within a moment of heavy silence.
Until he tickles her and she gasps in surprise, laughing. ]
All right, luck for the both of us! [ Out of desperation she slinks from his grasp and then sits, looking cross, out of his reach. ] Even if we cure the taint, I won't be able to ever stop those nasty fingers of yours, will I?
[ Always scrambling to tickle at her weak spots. She isn't particularly ticklish, as it happens, but he seems to know exactly how to make her jump nonetheless. ]
I feel no pressure at all. [ Robyn states lightly, leaning back into the grass to stare up at the sky. ] None whatsoever. How difficult could it be to end the curse that has plagued Grey Wardens forever and ever?
[Certainly no self-respecting Ferelden estate would let itself be without mabari and there's nothing like a puppy for cheering someone up. Going together to see her brother and pick one out could be just what they need once this is all done and they're back together again.
Alistair snickers as Robyn moves out of reach, shooting her a pleased grin.]
Not unless I find a better way to annoy you, my dear.
[Always possible. She's given him a lifetime to find out now - a lifetime that he wants to believe will soon be that much longer. Even if it's not, it's enough. They have each, for how long they have.
Shifting closer again Alistair lays a hand over hers and looks up as well, at the stars bright overhead.]
No more difficult than finding a way to slay an archdemon without a Warden needing to sacrifice their life. [He leans against her lightly, reassuring himself of her presence without putting his weight on her.] But no one will think less of you if you can't do it. It might not be possible.
[Something he should have said sooner. He squeezes her hand tightly, voice softer as he goes on.] I don't care if you come back with nothing to show. Just promise you'll come back.
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[Whether he's agreeing that he's lost his mind or that Oghren really is his first choice, she can decide. It's enough that he has her attention and not that old report on another darkspawn that insisted on causing trouble for them.
The Architect, Corypheus... it used to be simple, he's sure. All the old stories of past Blights and the darkspawn themselves never mention this sort of thing. Even most of the Wardens records have not a hint of there being truly intelligent darkspawn beyond the archdemons. Though as Alistair's coming to realise, that may be less because these things weren't known of before and more because of the Wardens' need for secrecy even from themselves. He's hardly in a place to judge. The two of them are keeping their share of secrets. The true reasons behind this journey of Robyn's. Their fears regarding Corypheus. How a Warden can survive slaying an archdemon. The Wardens have always kept secrets, often with good reason. But the hints they've managed to unearth so far make it seem like this is a dangerous one to have kept. One he hopes won't end up causing more trouble than it already has.
But he'll have ample time to dwell on all of this when he's alone. Now he has Robyn's hand warm against his cheek, bringing a smile to his face and he has to relish it while it lasts. Watching her reach for the paper he hums thoughtfully, as if seriously considering the prospect, and nods against her shoulder.]
He knows how to kill darkspawn. Maybe even better than I do. [The dwarf is a terrifying sight to behold in battle. Moreso knowing he's drunk even in the middle of the worst fight imaginable. Just think, if he fights like that drunk then maybe all they need to do is sober him up and the darkspawn won't stand a chance.] And along with his breath I think he could slay any ancient magister that dared raise its head.
[Which means the problem is sorted and he can accompany Robyn on her journey now. With that settled Alistair turns to kiss her cheek in return, murmuring in her ear-] It's not too late to let me come with you.
[He knows what the answer will be and why. But knowing doesn't make him hate it any less. So she's going to have to deal with him asking the same question right up until she leaves.]
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[ She can't help it: the mention of their teasing, of one of the jokes that's traveled with them over the years, has her heart flutter with all of the feelings she has for him and she turns, abandoning the ruse. Robyn wraps her arms around his neck, leaning back slightly over the table and the still-blank parchment just behind her. The Warden nuzzles briefly at him with the tip of her nose, mostly trying to tickle him, finally coming to rest with their foreheads touching. ]
If I trusted anyone else enough for this, I would give them the job in an instant. [ Robyn says finally, smiling sadly. ] You know that I would.
[ If only they could give up their duties as Grey Wardens to live the rest of their lives together. Unfortunately for that dream, though, both are too invested in the order and in the heart of it all to do so. The only thing that could possibly stop them from being together, the only thing that's ever managed to keep them apart, has been their work for the Wardens. Sometimes, she tries to make herself resent it, to curse the order and its never-ending line of impossible and dangerous missions. It never lasts, though, and she ends up feeling helpless and guilty in the face of a cause that she would give everything for. She is giving everything for it: not returning home to Highever, parting ways with the man she loves with all her soul, eventually dying once her Calling claims her.
Robyn shifts closer, drawing him into a hug, breathing in the scent of him as she tilts her chin upward into the embrace, the scruff of his cheek tickling her own. ]
Promise me you won't grow a beard. [ She says suddenly, pulling back to study him, trying to keep the clear amusement from her lips. ] I would never recognize you if you did. I could stand in front of you and still wonder whatever had happened to the long-lost Alistair Theirin.
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[Shifting back to give Robyn room to move, he leans close again as she holds him, letting some of his weight rest against her so she can't easily move away. Even as he's squirming at the faintly ticklish sensation of her nuzzling him Alistair is doing his best to commit every second they're together to memory. Resting a hand on the small of her back, the other comes up to cup the back of her head and he stares back down at her with the same besotted smile he's worn when they're alone since he'd first laid eyes on her, or so he'd claim. In truth it might have taken a little longer than that. But not much.]
I know, I know. [Yet knowing what must be done never makes doing it any easier. Sighing, he lets himself be pulled into an embrace, curling around her protectively. The moment doesn't last long as Robyn pulls back to make what is clearly an insult to his manliness. Looking down his nose at her severely Alistair frowns.]
You don't think I'd look ruggedly handsome with a beard? Something like Duncan's? You wound me. [The attempt at affront doesn't survive long as he kisses the tip of her nose before rubbing his own rough cheek against hers. He's grinning when he pulls back to meet her gaze again.] If it pleases my lady, I shall shave every day in anticipation of your return.
[Arching an eyebrow he asks-] Is there anything else you'd have me do in your absence my love? Shall I chronicle each day and how much I miss you? Or light a candle in the chapel every night you're gone, until the Maker himself has no choice but to take notice of my despair and bring you back to me?
[It's all in jest yet privately he thinks he'll be writing her every day, regardless of the fact that once she sets out getting any letters to her will be almost impossible. They'll just pile up in a drawer somewhere until she gets back and he has to decide whether to give them to her or burn them out of embarrassment. Which isn't even a question, of course he'll give them to her so they can laugh over how ridiculous he is.]
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It says a lot about their relationship, though, that they've only grown closer and closer in the years that they'd rarely been in each other's company.
As such, Robyn gazes up at him, lost in his eyes, torn between memories and the present. No, I have to be here. Now. If she doesn't commit this to memory, she won't have as much to hold on to when she's alone, likely far below the ground. The Warden reaches up to press a light kiss to his lips, hovering there, raising a hand to trace the outline of his jaw. When she hugs him and he returns the gesture, she savors each second of his larger form draped over her, always feeling incredibly safe when he does, though the world is far from it. ]
You have your own rugged handsomeness, Warden mine. [ Again she laughs, a light giggle this time, gaze sweeping the prickle of hair outlining his face. When he leans in to nuzzle her, she cries out in surprise and delight, squirming to get away from his ticklish stubble. ]
Oh, don't do that. You know what I mean. [ Sometimes, men let their bears get out of control. Oghren's had been a sight, but that could have been a dwarven thing. There had been some days where Alistair himself, ten years younger, had neglected to shave, and though she hadn't really noticed, herself, Wynne or Leliana would make quiet suggestions to the other Warden sometimes when it happened. Whether or not they were doing it to try and encourage the young pair getting together, she has no idea, even now; why should their affections for each other have anything to do with what the hair on his face looks (looked) like? ]
Come with me. [ She mutters at a little whine, but she doesn't, can't, mean it. Someone has to stay with the order and settle the strangeness there, to look into Corypheus while a cure for their poisoned blood is found. Robyn peers demurely up at him, next adopting a saddened little pout, kissing along his not-beard, gradually making it all the way around. ] I'll be lonely in a tent all by myself. I've had it with not turning to find you there, snoring, in the middle of the night.
[ And for so many other reasons, but... he knows. She'll certainly miss his presence with a vigor the second they part ways. ]
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Tilting his head to press into her hand, Alistair smiles.] You're just saying that to get me to agree. And to stop. [Which just means he has to curl down and rub his face against her neck, the rough rasp of stubble against her skin quickly stopping in favour of pressing a kiss to the pulse at her throat. He's almost tempted to ignore the request, absurdly hoping for anything that might bring Robyn back faster even if it were simply to tease him for looking like an overgrown dwarf. A very handsome overgrown dwarf but still.]
I will. I'll follow you anywhere. [He can't but she has to - does - know it's still true. If he could he'd follow her wherever she was bound, down into the very depths of the Deep Roads without question. This Corypheus is really just selfish, raising his head after having not been heard of for centuries. He could have had the decency to wait until they've found this cure. The cure Alistair himself only half believes can be found but he believes in Robyn with every fibre of his being. If it can be done she'll find a way.]
But I don't snore so you'll be missing out there either way. [He's never heard himself snoring so clearly he doesn't. Any snoring she's heard in the past has been from her hound or other companions and he'll argue that to the bitter end when they're back to sleeping side by side as they should. Attempting to catch Robyn's mouth with his own as she kisses his face, Alistair murmurs-] I'll miss you too. Every time I have to wake up alone.
[Expression turning solemn he shifts back a little to give himself space. Reaching up and fishing under his shirt he tugs a familiar, cracked silver emblem of Andraste's Flame over his head and presses it into her hand.] I was going to wait till you were leaving but... take this with you. So I'll still be with you.
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I could never. [ Robyn says firmly, eyes blazing with intention. ] Not after everything. I know what it means to you, and you'll be with me whether I've taken it from you or no. You always are.
[ The sentiment is one she'll hold close, but she can't bring herself to take his mother's token. She thinks of when she'd first found it in Redcliffe, unsure of what to make of the cracked thing. She thinks of his expression when she'd turned it over to him, how full of wonder and awe he'd seemed at Eamon's repairing of the gift. Robyn closes his fingers over it again, clasping both of her hands over his. ]
I want you to keep it. [ The Warden says firmly, looking up at him with stubborn determination. ] You may find you need its strength in what's to come, as a reminder of those who care for you.
[ Of his mother and his uncle, long gone. Of her, the young Grey Warden of a decade past and of the present--
She seems as if something dawns on her and steps away slowly, slipping her grasp from his. ]
... I've just thought of something, I'll... be right back.
[ And Robyn slips from the room. It isn't much later that she returns, looking a little breathless, hurrying back over to him with a strange kind of brightness to her eyes. ]
Maybe this isn't the time. [ She says quietly, a little flustered. ] But-- Maybe it's the only time. Alistair-- [ She raises a hand to thumb at his cheek, though the other is still at her side, clutched at something in her fist as she strokes gently over his face. ] ... Hang on.
[ Maker, but she feels like a child at the moment. Robyn drops her hand and produces the other, unfurling her fingers to reveal two rings in faded gold, wedding bands for a man and woman. ]
I got them from Fergus: they were my parents'. [ She continues softly. ] I thought, just now... this seems right. We never needed for things to be official, but... maybe I want it that way, after all.
[ The palm stays open and she frets a little at her lower lip as if she's afraid he'll scorn the idea. ]
I am yours, just as I've always been. [ The Warden finishes, lifting his free hand with her own to press her lips to his knuckles. ] I want everyone to know that just as I do.
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When she's back, he shoots her a questioning look but holds his tongue. As curious as he is about what prompted her to rush off like that he knows there will be a good reason for it and she'll explain in time.
Although it seems she's having some difficulty putting it into words. With a worried frown he glances down at her clenched fist, mouth opening to ask what's wrong when she opens her hand at last.
He stares at the rings uncomprehendingly, mind blank and mouth hanging open until he gathers the presence of mind to close it.
...Her parents' rings. Her parents' rings. His gaze finally drags up to Robyn's face, disbelief written plain in his eyes. Her words shake it loose, too many other feelings to be easily untangled rushing in to replace it.
Finally, shakily, he exhales and covers her outstretched palm with his own, the amulet and rings caught between their hands. His other hand slips free to cup her cheek, mouth working soundlessly before he can finally force sound past the lump in his throat.]
I- [He stops and swallows, eyes suspiciously bright. The words 'are you sure' are on the tip of his tongue - stupid, given they've spent all these years together and he's never once had reason to think Robyn might one day no longer want him by her side. In a practical sense this will change nothing, just as Robyn says. They've each been the others since the Blight. But it does matter. Making such vows, before Andraste and the Maker for everyone to know-]
Nothing would make me happier. [His voice is tight but Alistair is distantly aware that he's smiling so broadly his cheeks hurt. Ducking his head he kisses her, murmuring against her lips-] I love you. Even if I should have been the one asking you.
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Nothing would make me happier. Still feeling like a younger girl, her stomach flips a bit and she ducks her chin, blushing and grinning brightly. She's in the midst of trying to determine a response when he kisses her and she kisses him back fiercely, her own hand rising against his face again, wanting more than anything for this, for them, to continue, to not need to part, after all. Maker, after all we've done, after what we've given, please-- ]
I love you, too. [ Robyn giggles, brushing his nose with hers in a brief nuzzle. ] And-- Hang 'should have,' we've always done things our way, and... I thought this would be a good time. We can say it was all your idea, if you like.
[ She doesn't care a bit, so long as he really does want to go through with it. When she'd been in Highever, growing up, she'd always imagined marrying a faceless, but handsome prince, or at least a noble, as her imagination dictated. Their family's status could well have allowed for either, once. Even so, they'd always just been fantasies, and they'd seemed much less important as she'd grown. She was close to her family and enjoyed her life as it was; why would there be any need to change that?
Technically, maybe, she'd be marrying royalty (though, of course, he'd renounced his claim to appease Anora). It matters even less now than ever, though, because she knows far and away that her feelings for Alistair would be there, would be just as strong and true, no matter where he'd come from. ]
We can go soon, before-- [ "Before we go our separate ways." Robyn swallows. ] We could go to the nearest Chantry or just find the closest Revered Mother, and-- We could really do this, Alistair. If you'll have me.
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Much as I'd like to claim the credit I wouldn't dream of it. [And in truth he wouldn't want to. Tradition be damned, he's going to tell anyone who cares to hear it - and everyone who doesn't - that Robyn Cousland asked him to marry her. He'll sound like some ridiculous Orlesian noblewoman bragging about her engagement and he doesn't even care.] It's a perfect time.
[It could only be better if they weren't going to be separated in the near future. A prospect that is even more unwelcome knowing that it means, even if they find a Revered Mother now, they'll have only a few days together as husband and wife. There's another plea for her to take him with her on his tongue - or a suggestion that they should wait and plan a huge ceremony for next season, somewhere in Ferelden and it will take simply months to organise the guest-list alone and he can't do it on his own - but he swallows it all back down. This is enough. It's more than he'd ever hoped for growing up the unwelcome, unwanted bastard and is better than a thousand thrones he'd never wanted.]
Yes. Maker, yes. [He laughs. How could that even be a question?] Of course I'll have you. Forever. I can't let the only woman who can put up with me escape. [Pausing, Alistair kisses her nose.] We can go now.
[He makes no move to go anywhere just yet, despite the suggestion. He wants this yes, wants to swear himself to her forever before the Maker but he's almost afraid to move lest something goes wrong or he wakes up.]
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Er-- [ Something occurs to her and she steps back a moment, though she doesn't disentangle their hands. ] Should we... change our clothes? I don't care, really, but I know I must look like quite the sight and, if we're going to remember this forever and ever, I'd like for you to remember me as looking a good deal more than grimy.
[ Robyn laughs again, only half-serious. Yes, she'd like for their memories to be picture-perfect, but their lives have never been exactly that. She doesn't mind what the ceremony looks like so long as he's there with her. As such, the Warden shakes her head, dipping her chin in a sheepish smile before amending herself. ]
Never mind that. Let's go. [ She tucks the amulet and rings alike safely into her cloak before tugging him out by the hand, leaving everything else as it had been on the table. Her heart pulls her on, urging them forward so they would have as much time together to form the moments that would warm her in what would undoubtedly be lonely nights. ]
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[Alistair squeezes her hand, only half joking. She could be smeared with darkspawn blood or worse at the time and it wouldn't make the memories any less precious. Though he is glad she's not covered in worse. Following her out the door into the keep he stays a step behind Robyn so he can watch her tugging him along.]
Maybe I should be the one wanting to put something prettier on so you don't change your mind half-way through.
[Although he wouldn't say no to the opportunity to see Robyn in a pretty dress for the ceremony he's not sure she even owns one any more. The life of a Warden doesn't often call for fine clothes or big, fancy ceremonies. Good thing that wouldn't suit them anyway. Small and private will be just perfect. His only regret is that their friends and family - Robyn's brother and Teagan and their companions from the Blight - can't be here. But even just getting invitations to them all would take longer than they have and now that they've come to this Alistair doesn't want to wait any longer.
They reach the small chapel quickly, the place all but empty at this hour. Given how isolated the fortress is there's no Revered Mother permanently there but those from the nearest villages will occasionally make the journey up Broken Tooth to Weisshaupt with the caravans of supplies so that they might serve the Warden's spiritual needs. They're in luck as an older woman, tough as dried leather from a lifetime in the Anderfels, had arrived earlier in the week. She considers them as they walk in hand-in-hand and smiles faintly.]
Now there's a familiar sight. [She chuckles and shakes her head at them.] But usually it's some lad and lass from the village rushing into things.
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[ Basically. Most of their time together has been in camp, on the battlefield, in fortresses. They haven't really benefited lately from the luxury of either of their bloodlines (not that either care or complain, though). ]
I'm still waiting to see you in that dress. [ She says pointedly, laughing afterward, despite herself. ] You know I would marry you clean, dirty, in a dress, or as naked as your name day. I love you.
[ Robyn rises up to kiss him on the cheek as if to prove it, and then off they go.
The chapel is exactly what she'd pictured, quiet and small and candlelit. The Revered Mother looks them over, amused, and Robyn can't even pretend to be anything but the love-drunk girl that she is, despite the armor of the Grey Wardens and the years that sometimes weigh on her expression. ]
We aren't much better than that, Revered Mother. [ She admits, both still grinning, but managing to speak in a respectful tone. ] ... I imagine you can guess why we're here, but I wouldn't have you leave your duties if you're very busy tonight.
[ The woman blinks, glancing around, and the stark silence is even more evident. ]
Yes, very busy. [ She chuckles again, and Robyn blushes. ] Of course, I would be happy to help two Grey Wardens who steal away in the middle of the night to seek the blessing of the Maker. Are we expecting any others? Witnesses, perhaps?
[ Solemnly, Robyn shakes her head, clutching tight at Alistair's hand. ]
No; it's only us. [ Rushing into things? Maybe. She can't bring herself to care. Not with the love pounding in her chest and bringing a light to her eyes all over again. The Revered Mother glances between them, smiling fondly, warmly, then nods. ]
Very well. Whenever you two are ready, we can begin.
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[If wearing a dress could guarantee she'd come back safely then he'd be raiding someone's wardrobe already. As it is, Robyn's going to be waiting a lot longer to see him like that. As funny as would be to turn up in the chapel with him in the dress and her in a fancy suit the average Revered Mother might not appreciate the joke. Or she might not care. Any Chantry Mother was used to men in skirts after all.
Naked would definitely be going too far though.
But the Mother who greets them as they enter seems like she might be able to handle the pair of them whatever they turned up in. Which is almost more than Alistair himself can say as she waits for them to be ready. It's not that he thinks it's too fast - they've known each other and loved each other for years. And if Robyn's mission fails then they won't have too many years left to them. But no matter how many they have he wants to spend them with her.
He wants this as much as he's ever wanted anything, but for what may be the first time in his life, Alistair is worried he won't be able to find any words. He wants to be able to say something more than the normal vows, something that will express just how important Robyn is, how much she means to him but there simply aren't any words that could hope to convey feelings so strong. He should have thought about this sooner, written something down-
He looks at her again, her eyes bright, grip tight on his hand and the moment passes. He can spend the rest of his life thinking of ways to tell her how much she matters. Today is for promising that - the rest of his life.
Squeezing Robyn's hand he nods and turns to face her properly, standing before the Mother. Alistair holds out his hand for the ring with a smile, not looking away from her.]
I'm ready if you are. Unless you'd rather go first my love?
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[ And she gingerly places her mother's ring into his hand, pressing lightly, keeping her father's for herself, for now.
Here they are, standing in front of each other, seeing each other very, very clearly. The Revered Mother is necessary, but she's also just like any other statue in the Chantry, another stone Andraste with a faint smile and a mission. Robyn hopes with all her heart that the Maker and His Bride are watching out for them, that they'll keep both husband and wife safe. Most of all, she prays that she'll find a cure to save the order, not only to ensure that she and Alistair can lead a long life together, to maybe start a family, but also so that all those who have given so much to protecting their world can be free of the curse that goes along with it.
She doesn't shut her eyes to make these silent pleas, but instead she stares hard into the face of the man that she loves above all else, heart pounding, so many words busting to be said but not passing her lips. Like her husband-to-be, there are a million things that she wants to say to know, that she wants him to know now and before she leaves, maybe for the last time, but it isn't the time. Even now, it isn't the time. After this sacred vow, she'll find a way to tell him. To show him. To prove to him and to the world that the love of the Hero of Ferelden isn't something to be taken lightly.
Robyn squeezes his hands, face full of emotion, attention saved exclusively for the other Warden and his own promises for her, for them. ]
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I swear, unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste, to love this woman the rest of my days.
[He drags his gaze away from her face to slip the ring on her finger, squeezing her hand in return when it's in place. His attention is momentarily fixed on the sight before he exhales and looks back up. Robyn's always been beautiful and wonderful but right then he thinks she might rival Andraste herself. Not the sort of thought he should be entertaining when making vows before the Maker and His Bride but they fell in love too. They must understand how he feels as he searches for something more to say that might convey just how blessed he feels.]
I swear. I will follow you wherever you lead and wait as long as I must to by your side again. Whatever trials we face we'll never be apart.
[Still nowhere near all of what he wants to tell her but they'll be here all day if he tries to put it all into words. Instead Alistair just nods, glancing briefly at the Revered Mother for approval before turning his attention back to Robyn.]
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I swear, unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste, to love this man for the rest of my days. [ Her stomach tumbles nervously, fluttering with the dizzying emotion she feels. Robyn almost forgets herself, staring back at him, but with a light laugh and apologetic smile she places the ring gingerly onto his finger. It makes her think of her family, of what her parents might have thought of this, but she also knows that they would be happy and proud of the person she'd become.
Robyn dips her chin briefly, smiling more gently. ]
I swear that I will always love you, will always be loyal and true. I promise that I will return to you no matter what happens, and while I'm away, you will never be out of my mind and my heart.
[ As with Alistair, the Revered Mother meets her eyes and smiles gently, encouragingly. ]
The Maker has heard your vows. [ The old woman begins, holding one hand up and laying the other briefly over their own, joined hands. ] By His blessing, and by the blessing of Andraste, I hereby pronounce you man and wife. [ The Revered Mother lowers her hands, then, still offering the pair a warm, almost fond smile. ] Congratulations.
[ Did most of the weddings she oversaw have applause, friends, and family? Robyn only thinks on it for a moment, but doesn't feel regret or sadness. Instead, the Warden rises up to kiss her husband, cupping his cheek with her free hand.
I swear, Alistair. I mean it with everything I am. ]
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They might be missing the usual friends and family to wish them well and while he might wish they could have done this the normal way, making their vows before those they care about, the moment is perfect as it is. This is just for them, seizing the chance for happiness when it comes like they have since the beginning. There will be time to celebrate with those closest to them once Robyn has returned safely as she must now. The Maker and Andraste have accepted them as husband and wife, they can't be so cold as to let that be taken away immediately.
Several long moments pass before there's a polite cough beside them. Pulling away from Robyn, Alistair blinks at the Revered Mother, his cheeks turning pink at the amused look on her face.]
I shall enter this into the Chantry's records. You two should go celebrate while you have the chance.
[It's admittedly fairly obvious that the pair of them are expecting to be separated soon, not uncommon among the Wardens as it is. Alistair is more than happy to take the hint, nodding and slipping his hand down to claps Robyn's tightly.]
Thank you. This means a lot to us.
[An understatement given how he's smiling but she can see that. He steps towards the door, hands still clasped and pauses, looking down at Robyn.]
Shall we, my love?
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There isn't a destination, really. Certainly not back to work, not yet. The Warden travels in silence where she is usually chatty, eyes bright with the moon as she leads them on. The pair walks through the grass, over small, sloping hills, stopping at a little peak that overlooks a town in the distance. Its warm lights welcome them from below and the night shines high above them.
It's perfect. Robyn sighs dreamily, finally releasing his hand to settle down cross-legged on the ground. She draws up her knees after a while to hug them, wrapping her arms tightly around them, fingers playing at the ring, new on her finger, even as her mind wanders. ]
I always thought I would marry a prince, when I was a little girl. [ She teases lightly, smiling over at him. ] And here you are.
[ Never mind that he'd renounced all titles. The throne had never been very important to either of them, not in the way that their duty is. Ferelden is. The Wardens are. ]
I couldn't have dreamt of a more perfect husband. [ She asserts quietly, but firmly. ] Not ever.
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He's pulled from his thoughts when Robyn speaks, surprise quickly chased away as he laughs.] Here I am.
[And happy to be a prince if it would make her happy. One far removed from any throne or even his father's kingdom but somehow he doubts Robyn's younger self cared about specifics. And she certainly was never interested in him for his bloodline or claim to the throne.]
Are you sure you wouldn't prefer someone who doesn't - supposedly - snore? [Shaking his head, Alistair curls an arm around his wife's shoulders. He pauses a moment and then tugs at her, encouraging her closer so he can hold her properly.]
I never thought I'd be lucky enough to meet anyone like you. When I was younger- [He snorts. He hadn't really thought about girls or marriage as a stableboy. When they had started to be something he thought about he'd thought he'd be spending the rest of his life as a templar and would be lucky to meet many women at all. He certainly hadn't expected joining the Wardens to be the thing that led him to his future wife.] I never thought I'd be this happy. I still don't believe it most days. In fact, maybe you should pinch me just to be sure I'm not dreaming and one of the sisters is going to come yell at me soon for oversleeping.
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[ Of all varieties. She laughs lightly, snuggling into his chest, sighing contentedly. Yes, she knows all about his snores, as they find their way into each other's assigned quarters more often than not, unless one is away. Though they can't share the same sorts of evenings they had during the blight, when they traveled across Ferelden, always together in camp, but no one seems to feel it necessary to try and keep them apart. Two of the Grey Wardens who ended the Fifth Blight have certain leeway, after all.
At his suggest, Robyn reaches up to pinch him as request, lightly taking his nose between her fingers. After, as if apologizing, she plants a kiss to it. ]
It isn't a dream. [ She reassures him softly, and though her childhood had been a far cry from his, she has trouble believing that things had worked out this way, too. ] You're a hero. A married hero. [ She adds, and kisses his nose again. ] More deserving of happiness and luck than anyone I've ever met.
[ For everything he'd endured before they met, and even after, he's been nothing but forgiving, kind, and a slew of other, positive qualities. People like Alistair don't exist much anymore, except for in the stories. ]
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[Shale might have been able to challenge her for the title, back during the days of the Blight. But that was years ago and is still creepy, even now.
Wrapping his arms around her, he rests his chin on her head. He's going to miss this. All of it. The nights spent together, the companionship. And having someone around who laughs at his jokes. Some of the older Wardens seem to have forgotten how to laugh and no attempt to help has been successful so far.
Even though he requested it, Alistair pouts at the pinch, fighting not to smile as Robyn kisses the spot.] Now that I know that I'm awake and my wife can be a cruel woman...
[It might be time for some payback.]
I think you're getting confused about which of us is the hero here, my dear. I'm just a companion to the hero. [Something he's perfectly fine with. She's far more deserving of than title than him. And, importantly, it gives him one more thing to tease her with.] Or do I need to find someone to remind you?
[Not that he's planning on going anywhere but it wouldn't be hard to find some new recruit in awe of the Hero of Ferelden. There's got to still be at least one who hasn't seen the pair of them at their most ridiculous and can still idolise her.]
And I'm no more deserving than you. I certainly wouldn't have made it this far alone. [He can't imagine facing the Blight without her. While the years that followed have been somewhat easier with everything looming on the horizon ... he's glad that they have this moment.] But since you put it like that, I think we both deserve a lot more happiness and luck in our future. Years more of it. Or at least a chance to get told off for not inviting anyone to the wedding.
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[ The child they would never be able to have. Unconsciously, she curls a little more against him. ]
Oh, enough of that. [ He knows better than anyone how much she hates the title. ] I say we're all collectively the Heroes of Ferelden, since we all ended the blight together, and I won't hear another word of argument about it.
[ She probably will, because they bicker about it all the time, but that just means she'll need to refine her own points of contention to verbally beat him into submission (loving wife as she is). ]
Neither would I. [ Robyn agrees solemnly. ] I thought for sure I would die soon after my Joining, but... we really did it, didn't we? All of us.
[ They'd made it. Survived. Accomplished their very difficult goal, way back when. ]
I think we've had quite a lot of happiness and luck so far. [ The Warden points out, smiling. ] Not that I would say no to more...
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[He can guess what she's thinking, though it's something they haven't much spoken about. It's impossible not to think of Morrigan and her child then, out there somewhere. It feels unfair in a way, to know that he has a child while she can't and won't ever, as things stand. But if this cure is real... Alistair hasn't dare let himself think of what might mean and he thinks she must feel the same. But he wants to believe it could be possible. Maybe soon they can talk about a family as something really possible.]
Not today you won't.
[But another day and another, when she's come back, and another after that. He'll argue plenty then. Just to annoy her. Out of love, of course. (Two can play that game.)]
You'd better not. [He growls, freeing an arm to tickle her ribs in reproach.] You need to be asking for plenty more luck for the both of us. You have another miracle to work still, my love and no one else can manage it.
[No one else has her track record for accomplishing the impossible so there's really no other choice.]
Not to put any pressure on you.
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[ Fergus could surely part with one. In fact, she suspected he'd been planning on offering her one on her next birthday... though, now, she has no idea where she'll be during that time.
Robyn does think wistfully of the family they may never have. The Hero of Ferelden allows herself this weakness and draws in as close as she can to her new husband within a moment of heavy silence.
Until he tickles her and she gasps in surprise, laughing. ]
All right, luck for the both of us! [ Out of desperation she slinks from his grasp and then sits, looking cross, out of his reach. ] Even if we cure the taint, I won't be able to ever stop those nasty fingers of yours, will I?
[ Always scrambling to tickle at her weak spots. She isn't particularly ticklish, as it happens, but he seems to know exactly how to make her jump nonetheless. ]
I feel no pressure at all. [ Robyn states lightly, leaning back into the grass to stare up at the sky. ] None whatsoever. How difficult could it be to end the curse that has plagued Grey Wardens forever and ever?
[ Maker preserve her. Maker preserve them all. ]
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Alistair snickers as Robyn moves out of reach, shooting her a pleased grin.]
Not unless I find a better way to annoy you, my dear.
[Always possible. She's given him a lifetime to find out now - a lifetime that he wants to believe will soon be that much longer. Even if it's not, it's enough. They have each, for how long they have.
Shifting closer again Alistair lays a hand over hers and looks up as well, at the stars bright overhead.]
No more difficult than finding a way to slay an archdemon without a Warden needing to sacrifice their life. [He leans against her lightly, reassuring himself of her presence without putting his weight on her.] But no one will think less of you if you can't do it. It might not be possible.
[Something he should have said sooner. He squeezes her hand tightly, voice softer as he goes on.] I don't care if you come back with nothing to show. Just promise you'll come back.