Frankie Brosca x Alistair, 321 words
Alistair Theirin had never been particularly good at dancing. He was too tall, too uncoordinated, his feet always tripping over themselves.
It wasn’t as though he had been given a lot of opportunity to actually practice either - one blessing of being sent to the Templars, perhaps.
In the few instances he had been expected to dance, there had been no shortage of potential partners but the women often seemed to leave quickly - he’d always suspected they were scared away by his utter lack of coordination and tendency to talk (and talk and talk...).
None of that seemed to matter though, not now, with his dwarf in his arms.
She was short, much much shorter than him, but he didn’t care that he had to bend to properly hold her, that she had to lift her arms to reach him, that he wasn’t able to hold her as close as he would have liked.
Frankie seemed to know as much about dancing as he did, but that didn’t matter either, the pair of them separate from the rest of the party, alone in their darker corner as the music echoed in, all but hidden from the crowds around them.
“Do you think they’re missing us yet?” she whispered. “We were asked to be visible, after all.”
“They can wait,” he replied. “Everybody knows the Hero of Ferelden is here but they don’t need to see you all the time. I’m keeping you all to myself for a while.”
“Oh no, what a shame.” She turned to press her lips against his hand.
They fell back into silence, the sound of the music drifting over them as they swayed in time with each other, comfortable and familiar.
“I love you,” Alistair told her, watching her lips as they curved into a smile.
“I love you too,” she said and he found himself wishing they could stay like this, just the two of them, forever.
[read on ao3] [challenge tag]
ᶤᶰ კΙȣף, ᵃᶰ ᵘᶰᵏᶰᵒʷᶰ ᶤᶰᶜᶤᵈᵉᶰᵗ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶰᵗᶤᵉᶰᵗ ˡᶤᶠᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵖʳᶤᵐᵉ ᵘᶰᶤᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵘʳᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵘˢᵗ, ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᵉᵛᵃˢᵗᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵇᶤᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘʳᶰ. ᵗʳᶤˡˡᶤᵃᶰˢ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰᶤᶰ ᵐᶤᶰᵘᵗᵉˢ. ᵈᶤˢᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ ᶤˢ ᵗᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶤᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵛᶤᵛᵒʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵈʳᶤᵛᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶤᶠ ᵖᵒˢˢᶤᵇˡᵉ; ʳᵉᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ᶤᵗ.
ᶤᵗ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃᵇᶤˡᶤᶻᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᶤᵐᶤᶰᵍˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵘˢᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵒᶠ ˡᶤᶠᵉ, ᵍᵃˡᵃˣʸ ʷᶤᵈᵉ, ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ʳᵒᵍᵘᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᶰ, ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᶰ ᵘᶰᵏᶰᵒʷᶰ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᶤᵐᵉᶰˢᶤᵒᶰ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᶰᵈᵘᶜᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳᶤᵐᵉᶰᵗˢ ᵒᶰ ᵐᵃᶰᶤᵖᵘˡᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵒᶠ ᵠᵘᵃᶰᵗᵘᵐ ˢᶤᵍᶰᵃᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵘˡˡʸ ˢᵘʳᵛᶤᵛᵉ ᵗʰᶤˢ ᶰᵉʷ ᵘᶰᶤᵛᵉʳˢᵉ.
ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳᶤᵐᵉᶰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵈᵉˢᵗᵃᵇᶤˡᶤᶻᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵉᵠᵘᶤᵖᵐᵉᶰᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃᶰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᶤˢ ᶰᵉʷ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ’ˢ ᶤᶰʰᵃᵇᶤᵗᵃᶰᵗˢ. ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᶤᵗ, ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵉᶜʳᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ, ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵘᵇˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵃᶰᵈᵒᵐˡʸ ᵗᵃʳᵍᵉᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶤᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵒᶠ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᵉˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉʷ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ. ᵃˢ ᵃ ʳᵉˢᵘˡᵗ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ᵠᵘᵃᶰᵗᶤᵘᵐ ˢᶤᵍᶰᵃᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗᵃᵇᶤˡᶤᶻᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᶰᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ, ᶜᵃᵘˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉᵃʳ ᵃᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵈᶤˢˢᶤᵖᵃᵗᵉ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵃˢʰ.
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᵉˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵈᵉᶜᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ, ᵈᵉˢᵖᶤᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳᵃᶰᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ, ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ˢᵘˢᵖᵉᶰᵈᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ᶰᵉᵘᵗʳᵃˡ ˢᵗᵃˢᶤˢ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ˢᵘᵇᵈᶤᵐᵉᶰᵗᶤᵒᶰ. ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵃ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵉᵉᵏ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ. ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵗᵉᶜʰᶰᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈᶰ’ᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˡᶤᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ.
(ᶤ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᶤᵉᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢᵉᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ᶤᶰᵗᵒ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵉˣᵖᵃᶰᵈᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᵗᵉˣᵗ. ᵖᵃʳᵗ1 ᵖᵃʳᵗ 2.)