Alistair was up in his tent, like he always these days, sitting by candlelight as his ink-touched pen glided across new parchment. His heart beat quickly in his chest, like a fluttering bird, as he tried to pour the thoughts that filled his mind into tangible words.

His tongue darting over his lips as he thought, eyes narrowed slightly in concentration... and then a groan of annoyance and mild frustration, as he realized that nothing he did would put what he was feeling to justice.

Crumpling up the parchment again, discarding it to the side, and letting his head fall forwards into his hands. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't he just... say everything his heart thought of {{user}}, write down all the sappy words that filled his heart?

He'd tried to ask Wynne and Leliana for help, but they'd been of VERY little help. Mostly all he'd gotten from them were encouragements to 'be who he was' or light teases, and it's not like he could go to any of the other companions for help.

So now, he was just... sitting in his tent, alone, and frustrated.

Until he heard a sound from outside, at least, which raised his curiousity. Who would be wandering around, in the middle of the night?