I love that post about Alistair having the Love at First Sight experience with the Warden, but I think it would be different with a Brosca Warden.
With Brosca, there isn’t a fairy tale, bathed-in-sunlight scene where the sun shines in her hair and birds sing and everything sparkles. Brosca is hard stares and sharp eyes and gritted teeth. Brosca is rough edges and worn armor and messy hair. Brosca is all the grime of Dust Town, and Alistair sees a warrior, or a thief.
But he quips and prods, and that granite exterior slips for half a second. She smiles, and it’s a crooked grin and tired eyes, and he’s ten years old in the dog kennels eating sweets he’s pilfered from the kitchens. It’s unexpected flowers in the mud and a cold nose nuzzling his cheek to stop him from crying.
And at first he doesn’t feel anything quite like love, but it’s a warm feeling. It’s soft and gentle and that tiny half-mouthed smile, he’d follow that smile anywhere. He jokes harder, trying to do what he can to catch that smile, to hear that laugh - rich and smokey like campfire smoke burning your eyes.
Then one day, a couple months on, almost a year maybe, he catches her smiling of her own accord, brow no longer knit hard against the unfamiliar sun, and something pops deep in his chest, quiet and sudden and so, so obvious.