#alexandra was really shy and awkward during the mage rebellion

[herald-divine-hell]

Could you do this prompt:

“ it's just... i'm worried, about kissing you. “ “ why? “ “ i just... i don't want you to be disappointed. “

For Alexandra? I imagine it'd be towards a crush or, at the most, at an s/o at the start of the relationship. Regardless, someone she already has some serious feelings for, even if it's not love. Yet.~

Sorry for the long wait! I hope this is good! This is dedicated to my lovely friend @yourfriendlyneighborhoodmeme. Happy birthday you lovely piece of shit!

This is pre-Inquisition, during the Mage Rebellion.

~

Worry was something you never associated with Alexandra. Charm and summer, and fire and anger. The anger was always there, blazing within those golden-flamed green eyes—dawn spilling light upon an emerald sea. Anger and sadness and shame, tangling sickly with her charm; and when that failed, flaring cheeks and soft murmurs. Never worried, though. Something hard and wicked twisted in your stomach, churning so wildly like a boat in a storm at sea.

But it was there, almost fleeting for a moment, strengthening at another. Most often it happened when she stared at your eyes—truly stared, rather than glance at either the top of your head or something else entirely. The joy within dimmed, and the little smile she would have or the hard grimace that seemed to accompany her outside of your presence would falter for a moment. The worry always mangled with the flame in her eyes, that heated passion that brought awe and strength to men and women, and dimmed it; and yet the darkness was still there. An older darkness, pained and cold, always hiding within the very edges of her eyes, away from the flame. And yet it strengthened, as that fire dimmed. You could not read her thoughts, but you saw memories flow across her eyes, dazing her vision.

Your hand found hers before you could even stop yourself. Fingers wrapping around the length of her pale hand, squeezing the sides gently. That took her out of her thoughts, jumping a little, and her cheeks flared, even as she smiled faintly. An embarrassed Alexandra was something you could deal with, you thought with a smile.

“Was the food good?” she asked, her voice coming in a soft and tiny whisper. Her dark hair fell in soft curls at her shoulders, framing her thin face, with its wide jaw, narrowed chin, and gaunt features. You tried not to think about where that gautness had come from, and why it was still prevalent, or what it could mean in the future. None of that you wanted to think about, but it still surfaced, bubbling up without any regards to your desire. You tried to push it down with a hard push, focusing on stroking her palm with your thumb. It helped, in a manner of speaking.

“Yes,” you replied, a grin breaking upon your face, and your eyes narrowing. “But I’m more glad you ate.”

That got you a chuckle, and pleasure burst in your heart at the sound. “That you did.”

Silence descended between you, your thumb never ceasing in its drawing of circles against Alexandra’s palm. A candle burned at the center of the wooden table at where you and Alexandra sat, throwing orange light upon the wooden lengths of walls, and glinting off the silver empty tankards. Tucked in the corner of the tavern, no one was able to see either of you. Alexandra had probably picked it out for just that, knowing her. The sight of a mage from the rebellion openly sitting at a tavern would warrant confrontation. Plus, you liked the seclusion of it.

Suddenly, Alexandra said, “I got you a present.”

The words bled out before you could stop yourself. “Oh? Is it a kiss?” You wanted to slam your head against the wall just as you uttered it. But you just keep your gaze upon her, even as your cheeks redden and sweat gather at the back of your neck, heart squeezing up and stomach churning this way and that.

“I...you...I mean, if you want that, I could…fuck me.” Somewhat pleasantly, you watched as Alexandra’s face grew red as the fire-lit candle, riding up from her neck, to her cheeks, and swarming across her forehead. Idly, you began to count the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and over her high-perched cheekbones. Most likely trying to ignore your own embarrassment.

Shifting a little in your chair, you said, “And if I did want you to?”

The worry fanned out in her eyes, shadows and smoke thickening as tendrils as it swallowed that lovely fire you so adored. “I will...it’s just...” She swallowed, eyes darting away from your gaze, as if in shame. Alexandra’s words came out little more than a murmur, so faint that you could barely catch it. “I’m just worried about kissing you.”

Your heart ached at that, as if it was being tarnished and left to tethers. You have seen Alexandra sad, seen her when her anger builded so bright and strong, and seen her joyful and laughing until she could not breathe and snorts erupted; you have seen all of that, and more. But the worry was something unfamiliar, foriegn, and strange. It took immense effort not to jump from your chair and crash a long and tight hug around the woman. You instead squeezed her hand harder.

“Why?” you asked, guilt building in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? Was she afraid that the rebellion would move on from your village and such your budding relationship would be cut short? You decided well before that you would not be leaving her, not staying restrained in this small, quaint, and boring town where everyday was the same mundane as the last. No, you were going with her, and that was final.

What she said hit you harder than when Alexandra had first smiled at you. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

She rushed it out so quickly, you barely caught that, as well. But as you processed it, you could not help from chuckling and raising an eyebrow. “Really? That’s what you’re worried about? That you won’t be a great kisser.”

Cheeks reddening even more, Alexandra nodded, though she did narrow in a way that meant she thought she was being made fun of. Squeezing her hand again relented the stare, albeit slightly.

Giggling softly, you rested your forearms on the table, pushed the candle away from the center, and leaned forward. “Well, I don’t care—not one bit. Plus,” you said, winking at her in an obvious show, “you’re always been a fast learner, I heard.” Lowering your voice into a faint whisper, you murmured softly, “You can never disappoint me, Alexandra Trevelyan.”

That got a smile on her lips; the softest curling at the corner of her lips. And within her eyes, in those eyes you could fall into for thousands of years, drifting upon those waves, warmed by the sun, the worries flashed out, as if it was snapped at by a whip of flame. Hesitantly, Alexandra leaned forward, cupping your cheek with one hand, brushing her thumb softly over your skin. Her eyes searched, gazing long within your gaze, glancing down at your lips, while wetting her own, and drawing it in with a nibble of her teeth. “May I kiss you, ma amour?”

Your breath was stolen in that soft whisper, and you had to fight through a clogged, dried throat to speak. “Yes, please.”

At first, it was a mere brush of one another's lips, and Alexandra hovered over yours, as if calculating what would be the best option to go about this. You were about to snap at her and tell her to hurry up, or grasp the back of her head and press your lips fully against hers. You were about to, but cannot—not when Alexandra’s lips returned, more heated and fiery as before, stealing your breath once again. Her hand slipped to the small of your neck, drawing you in as her lips melded against yours, pressing here and there, tilting every so often her head. She obviously did not know what exactly she was doing, going off instinct. But as were you. And you found you quite enjoyed the plushness of her lips, the eagerness that Alexandra seemed to be fueled upon. It was overwhelming, and any thoughts you might have, any quip or jab, bled away against her lips.

When Alexandra pulled away, it took a few moments before you opened your eyes again. Words failed to come out as you opened your lips, your mind mushy and foggy, as if a mist had fallen and shrouded it beyond a sea of grey. “That was...fuck, that was great. You’re fucking great,” murmured Alexandra, her cheeks red and her eyes darken. “Was it great?” There was a slight raised pitch to her voice.

You could only really nod. “Yeah...it was.” Maker, your cheeks felt as if they were as hot as the candle.

“Can...can I kiss you again?”

“Yes.” Grappling with your thoughts was a hard effort, but you found a semblance of your old self within. “What about my gift?”

Alexandra giggled as she drew you back by your neck. “We’ll get to that when we get to that, no? After one more kiss...or three.”

You could only remember that flash of a smirk on her lips, the one you so adored and so hated, and the flaring golden fire twining through that sea of emerald green within her eyes; and your gift was soon forgotten. To you, Alexandra brought something better than any material thing. She let you slip into her heart, and rest there for a little while, handling her trust, her pain, and her love with such care—to you, that was the greatest birthday gift you could ever ask for.