The shadows of early evening stretched long across the rugged terrain of West Hills as Alaric made his way up the winding path to the keep. The journey from Denerim had been urgent, driven by an unshakable concern that had settled deep within him since hearing the news: Rosalie had fled Orlais, forced to escape the encroaching horrors of the Blight. The very thought of his friend, usually so composed and resilient, being caught in such chaos had been enough to spur him into immediate action.
His usual flamboyant flair was still present—the long, shimmering coat trailing behind him, catching the last glimmers of daylight—but there was a new edge to his movements, a tension that belied his outward calm. Alaric was known for his charm and wit, but today, those traits were overshadowed by a deeper need: the need to see Rosalie safe and sound.
The rumors of the Blight spreading through Orlais had reached him in Denerim, tales of darkspawn ravaging the land, forcing entire communities to flee. But it wasn’t just the general devastation that had driven Alaric to West Hills; it was the knowledge that Rosalie had been among those forced to leave everything behind. She had always been strong, but no one could remain untouched by the horrors of the Blight.
As he approached the keep, Alaric could feel the familiar pull of anticipation mixed with dread. He knew Rosalie was here, but he needed to see her, to speak with her, to ensure she was truly all right. The stone walls of the keep loomed ahead, sturdy and unyielding, a stark contrast to the fragile uncertainty that had gripped his heart since he’d learned of her flight.
Reaching the gates, Alaric straightened his posture and offered a nod to the guards stationed there. His voice, smooth and composed despite the turmoil within, carried just enough authority to bypass any potential delays. Alaric of Elvhenan, he introduced himself, his tone confident but warm. I’ve come to see Lady Rosalie. She’s expecting me. Most didn’t know what he meant by Elvhenan, from the old days when the elves ruled over Thedas, but he sounded important enough so they didn’t question it.
The guards exchanged a glance, recognition sparking in their eyes. One of them nodded and gestured for Alaric to follow. As they led him through the corridors of the keep, Alaric’s thoughts were a whirlwind of questions and concerns. How had Rosalie managed the journey? What had she seen? What had she left behind?
Finally, they arrived at a large wooden door. The guard knocked and then stepped aside, allowing Alaric to enter. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open, his heart pounding with both anxiety and relief.
Rosalie was starting to recover from the shock of leaving Orlais in the way that she had left the city. She was torn between her duties as a researcher, as a doctor and a new mother while still trying to maintain her will to do anything at all due to the grief that she was experiencing.
Despite of the fact that she had not technically been married to Vincent, she felt more like a mourning widow, as if the life that she had planned had been destroyed just in front of her eyes.
She was taking some notes when the guards arrived; the blonde didn’t look up from her notes but she could recognize the sound of heavy armor and the guards were the only people that at times visited her to inform of someone arriving or leaving. Before they could address her formally she interrupted them “Please just Rosalie, what can…?” she started, shutting up entirely when she spotted a known face?
“Alaric?” she asked, shock clear on her voice “what are you doing here?” she said putting down the parchment and running towards her friend to pull him in a hug.
Alaric barely had time to process the sight of Rosalie before she was in his arms, hugging him with a desperation that told him everything he needed to know. The tension that had knotted in his chest since he’d heard the news began to unravel, though the sight of her so worn and weary tugged at his heart. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, his usually playful demeanor softened by the gravity of the moment.
Rosalie, darling, he murmured, his voice rich with warmth and a hint of relief, I came as soon as I heard. You didn’t think I’d let you go through all this alone, did you?
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, his hands resting on her shoulders. His dark eyes searched her face, taking in the shadows under her eyes, the way her usual sparkle seemed dimmed by the weight she was carrying. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant woman he knew, and it pained him to see her like this.
Look at you, he said gently, his tone a mix of affection and concern. You’ve been through hell, haven’t you? But you’re still here, still standing. That’s the Rosalie I know—strong, resilient, and far too stubborn to let the world break her.
He gave her a small, reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood even as he felt the full impact of what she must have endured. The flamboyant charm that usually defined him was still there, but it was tempered by a genuine concern for his friend.
“I assumed that you would be busy with the chaos” she said, her voice breaking in the arms of her friend “I mean I survived so did Lucien and Vincent and Maeve…” she swallowed “and Lucien’s father…they are gone. Vincent stayed behind to help and Maeve left to find Lucien but didn’t make it” she said, her words mixed with tears and stifled sobs.
“I am a doctor, if I crack who will help these people?” she said with a small smile “but it’s exhausting, learn to push through everything while still being a professional and learning how to be a mother…the baby is an angel and barely cries but I know he misses his mother and I can’t bring them back” she said as she tried to blink away her tears.
Alaric’s expression softened, his dark eyes filling with empathy as he listened to Rosalie’s words. He brushed a comforting hand along her shoulder, silently absorbing the weight of what she’d endured. The losses she spoke of—the people she’d loved and lost—filled him with a fierce protectiveness, and for a moment, he simply held her, letting her grief settle in the silence between them.
Rosalie, darling, you don’t have to carry this alone, he murmured, his tone a rare blend of gentleness and conviction. You’re a healer, yes, but even healers need tending to. You’ve lost so much, and now you’re not only surviving—you’re giving everything of yourself for those around you. He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. But you can lean on me, you know. I may not have your steady hands or your brilliant mind, but I have my own talents… namely, making life a little more manageable for people I care about.
He gave her a warm smile, his hand squeezing hers. And as for being a mother? From what I’ve seen, you’re already doing beautifully. No one can replace what he’s lost, but you’re still here for him, giving him all the love you can. That’s no small feat, my dear.
Alaric tilted his head, a glint of mischief briefly resurfacing in his gaze. Now, let’s start by finding you some proper rest, and maybe—just maybe—let me handle a few things for you. I’ve been told I have a certain knack for making impossible situations more bearable.
“I don’t but I can’t crumble either, to all effects I am now a mother and Lucien needs me more than ever” she babbled in his arms as she held onto her friend as if he was a lifeline. “Don’t sell yourself short, you are brilliant too you have been my pupil I know your talents you know”
“At the least we could find a wet nurse, Maker knows that I was extremely concerned about how I was going to feed Lucien” she said, thinking again about how grateful she was about Madeline’s intervention. “I don’t know how will he handle the truth once he is old enough to know everything…but hopefully I will give him a happy childhood.
“How long are you staying around anyways? Are you here for business or just visiting me?” she asked curiously, even if he wasn’t here just for her she was grateful to have Alaric around, he was indeed a source of joy.
Alaric chuckled softly, the sound a balm to the heavy atmosphere. He cupped Rosalie’s cheek with one hand, tilting her face up slightly so their eyes met, his expression a mix of affection and his trademark mischief.
Rosalie, my dear, if you think I could ever be “just visiting” in a time like this, you clearly underestimate my fondness for you—and my ability to meddle. I set aside some time, and besides there’s someone in Denerim I’ve been seeing lately, and West Hills is just a hop skip and a jump away from there. His voice was light, teasing, but under the levity lay an unshakable sincerity. I’m here for you, darling. For as long as you need me. And don’t you worry—I’ll make myself useful while I’m at it.
He stepped back slightly, though his hand lingered briefly on her shoulder, as though anchoring her. As for Lucien, you’ve already given him more than most could manage in your position. He has you—brilliant, resourceful you. And if there’s anything you can’t provide, well, that’s where I step in. I’ve always wanted to practice my storytelling skills. Who better than a little one to enthrall with tales of adventure and heroics? He winked, his humor an intentional counterpoint to her worries.
Alaric’s gaze grew thoughtful, and he folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head. A wet nurse, though—that’s a practical solution, and you know how rare it is for me to resist something so utterly sensible. We’ll ensure you’re not stretched so thin, Rosalie. Between the two of us, we’ll manage everything Lucien needs, so you can focus on healing—not just others, but yourself.
With a sweeping gesture, he moved toward a nearby chair and sank into it, the dramatic flair of his motion belying his underlying exhaustion from the journey. Now, tell me more about what you need. What’s been weighing on you most? Or—better yet—what can I take off your plate entirely?
He grinned, his tone breezy but his eyes searching hers for an answer. Consider me at your disposal, my dear. Let’s make this chaos a little more livable, shall we?
“I don’t know, you are a very busy man I wouldn’t have held against you if you were here for business” she said with a small smile “What is this Denerim person, a friend? A foe? I hope you are not getting in much trouble, maker knows that I wouldn’t be able to handle more bad news” she said with a small smile, trying to play along with his joke, even if the joy didn’t reach her eyes.
“I mean I have been always terrible at bedtime stories, might ask you to write a few for me so that I can tell them to him when he’s older” Rosalie had many talents but imagination and creativity was certainly not one of them.
“I don’t want to burden you my friend, this is my duty and one I will take gladly. For myself, I just want to forget and move on, I am a Rutherford it will be hard but I will manage to do it” she tapped her chin thinking about what she could possibly need “But now that you mention it, I am totally lost about how clothes kid go, I just know that they tend to outgrow them quite fast. If you ever go to the market, can you buy baby clothes for me? I don’t have time to go shopping and my taste in that stuff is clearly worse than yours” she said signaling at his outfit and hers.
Alaric lounged in the chair like a cat luxuriating in a patch of sunlight, his legs crossed, and a hand resting dramatically on the armrest. His golden-brown eyes glittered with amusement as Rosalie’s words spilled out in a rush of gratitude and self-deprecation.
Darling, he began, his voice as rich and indulgent as a glass of Antivan brandy, if you think I’d let you muddle through baby fashion on your own, you clearly underestimate the lengths I’ll go to preserve my reputation. Consider it handled. I’ll find Lucien the most adorable outfits this side of the Frostbacks. He’ll be the envy of every child in West Hills, and you, my dear, will look like the most stylish mother in all of Thedas. It’s a public service, really.
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied her, his teasing tone softening. As for this ‘Denerim person,’ he said, his lips curling into a sly smile, let’s just say they’re intriguing. But trouble? Me? Perish the thought. My life may occasionally flirt with chaos, but I assure you, I handle it with all the grace of a ballroom waltz. You, on the other hand, have earned the right to ask me about anyone and anything. So, yes, they’re a friend—or something close enough to count. To be honest, it’s early on, I haven’t quite figured out where it’s headed just yet.
His gaze flickered toward her, catching the faint glimmer of pain behind her smile. He straightened slightly, his tone turning gentle but firm. Now, Rosalie, you listen to me. You may be a Rutherford, and yes, your fortitude is remarkable, but even the strongest walls need reinforcement. Burden me, lean on me—whatever you need to call it. You’ve been through hell, and trying to ‘forget and move on’ without allowing yourself the space to grieve isn’t resilience, it’s martyrdom.
Alaric rose with fluid grace, crossing the room to kneel beside her, one hand resting lightly on hers. Let me help you shoulder this. Buy baby clothes? Done. Write bedtime stories? Consider it a challenge accepted. But let me do more than that. Let me remind you that even in the middle of all this madness, there’s still room for joy, for beauty, for something that makes you smile just because it’s there.
He grinned, a mischievous twinkle lighting his eyes. And who better than me to provide it? I’m a veritable font of entertainment, darling, and you’ve only seen the tip of my talents. He gave her hand a squeeze and added, softer this time, You don’t have to do this alone, Rosalie. Not now, not ever. I’m here. For Lucien, for you—whatever it takes.
“I really appreciate it, I really don’t give much thought about how I dress but I know that Lucien’s father would have managed to dress his son in fashion, I don’t know if you ever met him but you two would have gotten along marvelously” she said with a sweet smile “You don’t need to fetch me clothes, I don’t think that I own enough money for two wardrobe changes dear”
“Well, keep me updated then, we should keep in touch” she said gently with a soft smile. He was really a beloved friend, one that she would like to maintain and to know about in the future.
“But grieving won’t raise Lucien nor will make the clinic work” she said with a sigh “I…will try to take it easy I promise but you have to understand the world won’t stop for my grief and I can’t let it stop me either” she said with a small smile “And of course if you need anything from me I will be there for you; helping is a bilateral thing after all”
“I know, I am a lucky woman who has a net of people that cares about her, not everybody is that lucky” she said with a nod as she smiled at Alaric “And I know that in half of a year, I will still hurt but I will have happy memories too”
Alaric rose to his full height with a theatrical sigh, brushing nonexistent dust from his coat and casting Rosalie an exasperated yet fond look.
Darling, your selflessness is admirable—truly, it is—but I’m going to pretend you didn’t just imply I’d let you sacrifice your wardrobe for the sake of practicality. And as for Lucien’s father, well, if he had impeccable taste, then I’d say he and I would have been fast friends. You have an eye for marvelous people, after all.
His smile softened, a warm glow in his eyes as he continued. Now, as for this ‘bilateral’ business... you know I don’t keep score. Friendship with me isn’t a trade, Rosalie. It’s an indulgence—for both parties, naturally. He winked. But, if you insist on reciprocating, I may have you bake me one of those divine pies you used to make back when you were teaching me a thing or two about diseases and anatomy and such. I still dream about them, you know.
He folded his arms and regarded her with a mixture of pride and affection. You’re right about one thing—the world won’t stop. It never does. But you don’t have to race against it, either. Grieving doesn’t mean you stop moving; it just means you learn to walk with the weight of it. And if it gets too heavy, that’s when you call me. I’ll lighten the load with a little charm, a touch of wit, and perhaps a scandalously inappropriate joke or two.
Stepping closer, he tilted his head with a conspiratorial grin. And since you’re so determined to forge ahead, let’s do it in style, shall we? When I’m done with West Hills, Lucien will be the most fashionable tot in Thedas, and you’ll be the mother who turns heads and breaks hearts—figuratively, of course.
He held out his hand, palm up, as if to seal a deal. So, my dear Rosalie, shall we agree on this? I’ll handle the frills, the stories, and any tedious tasks you deem beneath you, and you’ll let yourself breathe now and then. Fair? His tone was light, but the look in his eyes was firm—an unspoken promise that he would see her through this, no matter what.
And don’t you dare refuse me, he added with a mock-stern glare. You know I’m insufferable when I don’t get my way.
“Well, aren’t mothers supposed to not have time for fashion statements? I do recall that my mother was ridiculously pretty yet she barely had time to find nice outfits since she was always busy with one thing or another” she said with a small smile as she remembered her own mother. She wondered what she would have done if she had come to her with little Lucien; probably she would have been an amazing grandmother.
“Well, they are to dream for, more than once friends told me that I should consider dropping medicine in order to become a baker. I have to say that some days I think that it would have been easier” she said with a chuckle. “So, payment in pie sounds like a fair deal to me”.
“I know. It’s funny, as a doctor I am close to grief. I have told terrible news to mothers, sons and other relatives. I have seen people die in my arms, sometimes with acceptance and others with anger yet none of that prepared me for this” she admitted, wondering if those people found comfort in her attempts to help them.
“Well I can’t wait for it, although I don’t think that I am the sort that turns heads around, not because of the looks but because of the attitude” she had never been prone to stand out, favoring to blend in the crowds.
“We have a deal” she said as she shook his hand. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have Alaric as a friend.
Alaric gave an exaggerated gasp as Rosalie shook his hand, clutching his chest with his free hand as if the very idea of her doubting her ability to turn heads had physically wounded him.
Rosalie Rutherford, you wound me, he declared, shaking his head in dramatic dismay. Attitude is precisely what makes someone unforgettable. Trust me, darling, it’s not just about the looks—it’s about the presence, the je ne sais quoi, the quiet gravity that makes people turn and wonder, ‘Who is she, and how do I bask in her presence?’ He gestured grandly toward her, as if presenting an undeniable truth. And you, my dear, have it in spades.
His expression softened then, shifting from playful to something gentler, more earnest. As for grief… no one is ever truly prepared for it. Not even those who face it daily. You think you understand it, that you’ve mapped its patterns, and then, when it’s your own heart bearing the weight, you realize how little you knew. It’s a cruel, relentless thing.
A pause, then a quiet sigh as he studied her, taking in the exhaustion she tried so valiantly to mask. He reached out and, with the lightest touch, smoothed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. But you’re not alone in this, Rosalie. And I won’t let you forget that.
Then, as if sensing the moment was teetering too close to the edge of sorrow, Alaric straightened and clapped his hands together, his usual air of theatrical mischief returning. Now, let’s discuss something truly vital—pie logistics. When shall I expect this legendary confection? I need to know so I can prepare my schedule accordingly. You wouldn’t want to deprive me of a much-needed moment of culinary joy, would you?
He shot her a teasing smirk before leaning in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. And don’t think I didn’t notice your clever attempt to distract me with your musings on baby fashion. I will find you something stunning, Rosalie. Something practical, yes, but also elegant, befitting the woman who, despite her claims of invisibility, has managed to completely capture my attention. You deserve that much, at the very least.
Alaric leaned back with a satisfied nod, as if the matter had been settled beyond question. So, my dear, shall we plan a scandalously indulgent evening soon? Perhaps one where we sip expensive wine, pretend the world is not on fire, and you attempt to convince me that you are, in fact, anything less than extraordinary? It would be an amusing experiment, though I warn you—it’s an argument you will most certainly lose.
He stretched, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the day, before flashing her an easy smile. But for now, I’ll leave you to whatever terribly important things you’re pretending to work on. I’ll look in on you later at the infirmary—consider me at your disposal for whatever assistance you require while I’m there. His tone was light, but the intent behind it was firm. Alaric wasn’t going anywhere.
With one last wink, he turned toward the door, the shimmering fabric of his coat catching the candlelight as he made his exit, leaving the promise of his presence lingering in the air like the scent of expensive perfume.
