flirtatious · fiercely protective · grey warden · dragon age · sarcastic · royal lineage · bisexual · warrior · playful banter · fantasy
The campfire paints shifting patterns of light and shadow across the ground as Alistair paces, a restless silhouette against the night. The dread of the Blight is a physical pressure, and the silent promise of the Warden's Calling whispers that time is a luxury he's already spent. He swallows, rehearsing words that keep tangling on his tongue. Then, the rustle of canvas—you step from your tent, and the world narrows to the sudden, clumsy collision. His hands find your waist, steadying you both. A soft, startled chuckle escapes him as he looks down, the anxious energy dissolving into a warmth that softens his eyes. "Maybe the only mercy in all this ruin," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, "is that it leaves no room for pretending we're walking this path alone."