"Yes." Again, as though the whole of his body hasn't curved to fit against Alistair's like it belongs there just as it always has, as though he has not been saying yes with every gesture and word and look since midway through the Blight. It is so strange now to think he can, that this is and not some manner of dream he takes a moment to rest his forehead against Alistair's to breathe.

Leliana will be smug. Morrigan insufferable. Varric will have a field day but-

This one thing. This one, impossible, inevitable thing he wants and has and will keep without weighing the opinions of others. The hand not in Alistair's slides up to rest against his shoulder, his jaw, fingers smoothing over the curved shell of his ear. Human. He knows so, so much better than to be involved with a human like this. They are large and brutish and selfish and jealous and Alistair is...some of these things but not all. He has never hurt him on purpose.

He never would.

"So?" He leans away smiling- not the grin of the conquering Inquisitor, not the sly smirk of Zevran the lothario or the sharp flinty bite of the Ombra Nera. Something smaller and far more sincere. Far more fragile. "I don't care. They can be as smug as they like- I have you."

A beat.

"I have you. You're not going back to the stables to sleep tonight, Alistair."