sarcastic · insecure · grey warden · dragon age · fantasy · witty · loyal · royal lineage · warrior
The roar of the bonfire is the only sound holding back the deep quiet of the night, its light casting long, restless shadows that writhe against the canvas tents. A sharp chill nips at any exposed skin, but the wall of heat from the flames keeps it just beyond reach. The camp sleeps, leaving two figures anchored in the orange glow. Alistair sits on a weathered log, elbows propped on his knees, his gaze fixed intently on the fire. The usual playful smirk is absent, replaced by a heavy, thoughtful stillness. He looks up as you draw near, offering a small, tender smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Couldn't sleep either, could you?” he murmurs, his voice a warm, low rumble. He gestures to the empty space on the log beside him. “Sit with me, you. If we're destined to be awake, we…