Guarded Love (COMPLETED)

Something Old

"--And then, just as the butler's breathing a sigh of relief, she turns on her heel, tips back her hat, and says, 'Oh, and one more thing...'"

Alistair smiled at the woman whose life he was retelling and getting it mostly right. He kept one hand locked with hers, which he hadn't let go since they climbed out of the hole. Clustered around the dining set, everyone with working legs raided the pantry, hurled the edible bits onto the table and took to gorging. Of course, the two grey wardens were putting the little elf and the Commander to shame. While Alistair managed to get down an entire bucket of chipped beef, Lana finished off the remaining stew -- which should have fed a family of four. There were times Reiss was grateful she wasn't required to pay for their dinners, ever.

"Did the butler really do it? I thought that was only a cliche?" Lady Amell asked. She'd been carried to her seat and looked about to faint dead away, but food seemed to awaken her as she twisted around on the stool following the conversation.

"Turned out he wasn't really a butler, so...I suppose it sadly remains a cliche," Reiss said. The fingers wrapped around hers squeezed tight, and she glanced over at him. He was a mess, no, they all were. Coated in darkspawn blood that in the interim dried and began to flake off, it would require far too much work to get any of them clean. So much so, no one wanted to be the first to try. Instead they all sat around at the table eating food, talking about nothing important, and warily watching the hole they tried to board up with an upended chifforobe.

The Commander shifted in his seat, both elbows placed upon the table. Lana's fingers drifted up and down his bicep while he caressed her hand. "What surprises me is that you would risk the King along on your interrogations."

"I can handle myself," Alistair stuck up for himself, "or was it someone else you remember stabbing the broodmother in the heart?"

"As that may be," he seemed to agree with Alistair, "you are also as subtle as an Orlesian at a grand promenade."

Alistair blinked furiously a moment, "You know what a promenade is? Oh, Maker," he spun to Lana, "Please tell me he had to go one. And they made him wear ribbons. No, better, they made him the pole!"

The Hero began to chuckle at the idea, but what caused both Alistair and Reiss to stare agog, the Commander laughed a moment as well.

"Now I'm scared," Alistair breathed. "Hold me!" Dodging to the side, he buried his face into Reiss' back and wrapped both arms around her. She stared ahead, uncertain what to do, but couldn't stop the smile from rising. Her fingers danced over his, following the swelling where he must have jammed it against the hilt of the chef's knife. He was hers.

Reiss' eyes darted up, honing in on the woman sitting across from her. Lana was smiling at Alistair's antics, no doubt enjoying him as she did, as she had many times before. In very many ways. Closing her eyes tight, Reiss turned her head, blotting out the demon-induced jealousy by pressing a kiss to Alistair. She meant to hit his cheek, but he steadied her and lined up his lips. As they'd painstakingly climbed out, Reiss ahead because he feared slipping and taking her down, Alistair kept talking. At first she thought it was for her to hear, but while they climbed higher she realized it was meant to be to himself.

"Close. Too damn close. Never, never, ever again," he repeated over and over until they emerged inside the cabin with nary a darkspawn in sight.

Breaking from the kiss, he smiled at her, "I love you."

"I..." she wanted to say she knew, but the word landed in her gut. "I love you too," Reiss said instead, her lips breaking into a heartier smile. She couldn't miss the way his eyes fell at her pause and then how they darted back to Lana a moment. Shake it off, Rat. You've ignored far more traumatic experiences in your life. This is a lovely stroll down the beach in...