When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Lampposts

As everyone else scattered to their own rooms for the night, Una walked with Grenli to the kennels, her hand resting lightly on the top of the dog's head. He grinned happily as she saw him bedded down for the night. "Be ready for a long march tomorrow," she warned. He gave two short barks. "Yeah, we'll just see if you can march circles around me," she said affectionately. She handed him a bone and left the kennels, heading for her own bedroom.

Her thoughts were filled, not with the affairs of Ferelden, but with Alistair, the feel and scent and taste of him. So she wasn't surprised when he emerged from a doorway and fell into step beside her.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said.

"What were you doing, lurking there?"

"Lurking? I wasn't lurking," he said. "I was just ... uh ..." His mind was filled with her nearness, and he had to touch her. Reaching out, he stroked down her arm, taking her hand. "Una," he said, his voice raw.

Her mouth went dry and her tongue darted out to lick her lips. Spying an open door, she tugged him into the room, which turned out to be the library. The candles were sputtering low in their sconces, sending intriguing shadows through the room. Shutting the door behind them, he sank down into a big wing chair and pulled her onto his lap. Una gave a sigh of pure happiness, snuggling deeper into his arms. She'd been waiting for this for so long, it seemed. It was hard to believe she was finally here.

They stayed that way for a few moments. Then Alistair whispered, "Hey."

"Mm?"

"I wanted to say thank you."

She sat up, looking at him. "For what?"

"For what you did—saving Connor and Lady Isolde. You didn't have to."

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the memory of her nephew and sister-in-law. "Yes, I did."

"Not everyone would have thought so. I just— There's been so much death and suffering, it feels good to have been able to save something."

"I agree." After a few moments, she said reluctantly, "I should really be going—"

"I know." But neither of them moved. Alistair reached out, tucking her hair back behind her ear. His hand trailed slowly down her neck and over her back. He wondered what it would feel like to stroke her bare skin. He heard a moan, but whether it was hers or his, he didn't know. Then she was kissing him, and it didn't matter.

How long they stayed there, kissing, they didn't know. Neither of them tried to take it any further—it was still too new. Una didn't want to push things, and Alistair wasn't ready to go beyond this. Not yet. Slowly they became aware that the last candle had guttered out and they were in pitch darkness.

"I think that means we should be getting some sleep," she whispered against his ear, loving the shiver that went through him.

"Who needs sleep?" he growled, his arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. "Grey Wardens don't sleep that much, you know."

"We do if we want to be on our way bright and early," she said, chuckling affectionately. "Come on." She stood up. He made a small protesting sound, and Una grasped his hand, pulling him up with her. And then she kissed him again.

This time he was the one to break the kiss. "My leader's going to be very angry with me in the morning if I'm not well rested," he whispered.