AN: I'm a bit tired from my other gloomy story, so I've decided to write something about good old days. This story in a oneshot, at least for now, and precedes The Sleepwalkers.
I tried to keep Alistair in character – tell me if I managed!
It was their first camp in the wilds. Morrigan led her Grey Warden companions out from the marshes and they entered the thin forest that spread between Korcari Wilds and Lothering. Or it was still a part of Korcari Wilds, Alistair didn't know. Or care. Swamp witch told them she knew a great place to set camp – she had already traveled to Lothering earlier. Alistair didn't trust her definition of 'great', though. How could you rely on the taste of someone who lived in an old hut in the center of gloomy swampland and still found that suitable?
But the place was indeed nice. It was a small hill covered with birches and occasional spruces. There was a fireplace that seemed to be used just recently, and downhill was a small spring. They didn't have to fix tents because they didn't have them. Flemeth gave them blankets (two for each) and some food but she was no merchant to equip them properly. Remembering the word 'stew' that Morrigan had mentioned while leaving Alistair felt he was actually very hungry. But no stew - only dried meat and something looking like old bread. He sighed.
After that luxurious supper Morrigan walked away from them and began to start her personal fire. Wow, she has read my mind. Cool. Stay there, good girl. Solona sat on the log near that used fireplace and took out her writing implements and her 'diary'. Alistair called it diary because he saw her writing in it during their rest break when they were preparing for Joining. He didn't ask what she wrote there and didn't know if it was a diary or… well, something else. I don't know any thing where a person writes something during his travels, except diary. Solona was camping for the first time in her life, so all duties smoothly bypassed to him. He didn't mind, he was a skilled traveler and he was glad to have such distraction. He preferred not to dwell on those dreadful events but he couldn't escape the thoughts nevertheless.
Finally, the fire was lit and the water was taken into Flemeth's skins and tired but satisfied Alistair finally set down by Solona's left side. He saw her mabari – called Mabby – lying at her feet and looking at her mistress attentively.
"He's quite fond of you, you know," Alistair began putting filled skins behind the log. He stretched his hand and stroke mabari's head lightly. Mabby only barked happily.
Solona glanced at her dog half-smiling and nodded. "I saved his life and he likes me now. Do you, Mabby?" she lowered her head to the dog. Mabby barked again.
Alistair chuckled. "Guess we have something to learn from him. You see, Flemeth saved my life too, but I don't feel starting to like her," he mused grinning a bit. He cocked his head and looked at mage awaiting her opinion.
She only laughed shortly. "Nor her daughter, I presume," she answered absentmindedly and continued writing, canceling some lines.
"And here I thought I was a gentleman and didn't show my bad attitude," he made a wry smile. The Warden stretched his arms and put them behind his head looking into already dark evening sky. "A strange party, we are," he admitted thoughtfully. "A templar, a Tower mage and an apostate. Sounds like a beginning of a cheesy anecdote." He let his hands drop on his lap again and turned his face to Solona. Is she writing a novel? Her short dark-red pony tail jumped funnily when she turned her head slightly looking from one page to another. Alistair let himself watch that for a while.
"By the way," he began talking again, "I thought Tower mages dislike apostates, at least, but you seem to be really friendly towards our swamp witch. I wonder why?"
Solona raised her face and stared into the fire. That question was more difficult to her than he expected. Finally she answered, but she avoided meeting his eyes.
"I'm not a Tower mage anymore," she said in somewhat cracked voice. "And I'm a maleficar as well," she almost whispered looking anywhere but not at Alistair.
"What?" he asked astonished. She looked like orderly, quiet and maybe even wise girl. A maleficar? "But… what have you done?" he only managed to ask.
"I helped a blood mage. I was nearly sentenced but Duncan saved me by recruiting…" she explained unwillingly. He could see she regretted mentioning it. Was it because he was a templar? Or did she regret the doing itself? Anyway, she was saved from punishment and he was happy about that. Imagine sitting here with Morrigan alone. Ugh.
"Yes, that's what he is, our Duncan…was." Alistair corrected himself in sad whisper. Duncan. He felt his chest tightening again and found it hard to breathe normally. His heart clenched painfully. Would he ever be able to reconcile with those deaths? He doubted it.
Solona looked at him with concern in her eyes. She touched his shoulder, but he still stared into the flames and didn't react.
"Alistair, I… I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have begun it again…" she said softly. There was guilt in her intonation. "He was a good man, a hero, like Garahel. We are blessed even to have met him in our lives." Solona began to sound more pleadingly. "He wished to stop the Blight, and we will do it in his memory. Please, be strong, will you?" she hunkered down in front of him and glanced at his face. He was crying silently.
Stop it, you fool. A girl is stronger than you. Alistair hated himself for being such a crybaby. She was absolutely right and he had a duty. He was the Senior Grey Warden of Ferelden now.
Alistair wiped his eyes. "I will. Thank you – I mean, for everything, for being here with me, for not leaving me… Just thanks." He gripped her right hand with his both shortly and nodded. "It's okay, don't worry."
She sat back looking satisfied with his current condition. And began writing again. Alistair finally looked over her shoulder, but the light wasn't bright enough to read anything.
"What are you writing there? A diary?" he pried.
She chuckled. "No. It's just a shopping list for Lothering. I'm a thorough girl, in case you haven't noticed. I like things being in order," she ended light-heartedly and slapped the book. "I'm finished. And sleepy," she yawned. "Now where are those blankets?"
Alistair pointed at his back pack standing near tree trunk. "You lay one on the earth and cover yourself with the other," he explained as she stood helplessly with two rolls in her arms.
She nodded and stepped closer to the fire.
"Is it safe to sleep here? I won't get burnt?" she asked hesitantly.
"It's okay," he made an approving nod. "Should I help you?" he offered.
"I can do it myself, thanks," Solona stated and bent to spread one of the blankets. Then she sat on it and began to straighten all the gathers.
"It's so thin!" she lamented. It was early October and nights were becoming rather cold.
Alistair just shrugged his shoulders. He too wouldn't mind a proper bedroll and a proper supper.
"You know," Solona started unexpectedly, "it was even colder in our apprentice rooms back in the Tower." She put a blanket around her shoulders, smiled pleased with warmness and continued: "There was only one fireplace in a big stone room. In winter it was freezing. And do you know what we invented?" she chuckled remembering her youth. "We began sleeping together, like two or three apprentices in one bed, and we covered ourselves with all our blankets – two or three ones, respectively." Solona raised her head and gazed at Alistair thoughtfully. "I think the approach can help us now…"
Alistair listened carelessly. He nodded when she finished. But he still didn't understand what that had to do with him.
"Do you want me to fetch you Morrigan?" he asked matter-of-factly. "Though I doubt she'll like your plan," he smirked.
"Yes, she even doesn't like to share a camp with us, not to mention bed…" Solona agreed. But then she raised her brow and stared at her companion questioningly. "But why do you think I need her here?" she asked.
That was Alistair's turn to furrow his eyebrow.
"I thought you wanted to sleep with another girl like you did back in the Tower, to stay warm…" he began bewildered.
"Girl?" she laughed. "I said 'apprentice', not 'girl'." She looked at him amused. "Don't you know that both apprentices and mages live all together, without gender separations?"
Alistair felt heat climbing on his cheeks. There were stories about mages' unchastity among templars.
"There's no need to be bashful there, because templars are watching every time. Especially in our sleep – when we go to Fade, remember?" she explained further without a hint of shyness.
Alistair swallowed. He wasn't sure he wanted to be a templar looking how young boys and girls are sleeping all together. Maybe, if you take away boys… Oh, Maker. He could swear he was crimson now, but he couldn't just stand up and run away. Wicked mage.
She finally managed to straighten her lower blanket and cast a look at him. "Here's plenty of room for both of us…" she suggested quietly.
"Us?" he only managed to say and his voice sounded very strange. Low and cracked, even hoarse. "As in 'you and me?..'" he wondered weakly. He tried to make a gulp, but his mouth was suddenly very dry. His mind screamed. What? She's just offered me… to sleep with her? No, just to share the bed… Spend the night together… Lay with her… Blast it, it is not helping!
Solona seemed to be surprised with his reaction. Frowning a little she got up and sat down at his left side. Misinterpreting his behavior she said softly: "Oh, don't be afraid. I am a mage, but I won't turn you into frog for snoring too loud," she laughed kindly. "I am your Sister, after all," she added, put a hand over his left shoulder and smiled gently.
"Siiister," he repeated involuntarily. Her hand felt like a heavy armor and it pinned him to his current place. Sisters can be very different. He once knew one Lay Sister that had always embarrassed him. And why don't I feel at all brotherly?
"Sister. Riiight…" he repeated once in order to say something. He couldn't bear those big dark velvety eyes that were aimed at his face. Yet she seemed to be very sincere and there was no hint of mocking or flirting.
She obviously took his words as an agreement.
"Good. Now let me help you," she suggested and started unbuckling his armor. She began with two buckles on his left shoulder. Alistair froze and his eyes widened with horror. She is undressing me! Maker's breath, what am I supposed to do? He felt sweat running down his forehead and back. He watched her helplessly for a few seconds, but then finally gained control of himself and sprang on his legs quickly.
"What?" he yelled in a high-pitched voice. "What are you doing?" he continued in a horrified whisper.
Solona frowned, and looked at him puzzled.
"Are you going to sleep in your armor? It can cause a trauma…" she explained simply. Her voice was calm, though it was coloured with some amusement.
"No…" Alistair answered hastily. "I mean, I'm not going to sleep at all! You can have my blankets," he offered wiping his wet forehead. He took a sharp breath. "I'll…take watch!" he exclaimed. That's my salvation. "You know, darkspawn around and all that. Safety first," he gibbered looking somewhere far away. He didn't know what else to say. Oh, blast it! He turned hurriedly and pretended he was going to walk around the camp, but his walking resembled running more. Solona sighed and began to prepare for her sleep.
Alistair was running downhill and he took the path to the spring by the force of habit. He panicked. Safety first. And he wasn't at all safe near her. His breath was ragged, his shirt all soaked with sweat. He was confused, frightened… and aroused. Ouch.
He sat down on the ground and washed his face with icy water several times. That helped a little. He made several gulps of the water too. His mind was clearer now and he finally saw he had a problem. He knew he would have it when he first heard the new recruit to be female.
That's bad. Bad beginning. She will probably think I'm afraid of mages, and she will certainly discuss it with her best friend – swamp bitch. And they will giggle. Behind my back. And if she sees the truth and understand that I'm in fact afraid of women, things will go worse. Because they are both mages and both women. Oh, Andraste. What did I do to deserve it?
He dipped some water and poured it over his head. Watching the drops dripping on his lap he sighed gloomily. He had to return. He had to face her again. He got up and began walking back. He would buy her the warmest tent and there would be no more problems like that. Yes, keep on saying that and maybe it'll turn true.
When he reached their camp he heard some strange noise. It was already very dark, and the fire had almost died out. He heard quiet moans and haste movements. Solona.
Nightmares?
Had he to wake her? But in fact it was the first time he saw her sleeping. Maybe that's usual for her. He knelt before her still unsure what to do.
But she made a decision for him. Screaming loudly she sat up and opened her eyes. She looked wild and her hair was in a mess.
"Where… is he?" she whispered breathing hard.
"The Archdemon? The dragon," Alistair explained and sat beside her. "That's just a nightmare, like the one you had after Joining."
"We have to slay a dragon?" Solona asked unbelievingly. "But how?"
Alistair shrugged his shoulders. "Hire a professional dragon killer? Dragon assassin?" he suggested. Solona laughed quietly, looking much less frightened now.
"Make a trap with a beautiful princess as bait?" he continued.
"And that would be me?" the mage asked playfully.
"No," he stated. She looked a bit offended. "He'll know you're a Grey Warden," he explained hurriedly.
"Ah, you're right. Then – Morrigan?" she played along with his strategies.
"Oh, that would work only with a very stupid dragon. Even I can see that she's an utter bitch, and I'm not the smartest man either. And princesses are never utter bitches," he considered. It was so nice to chat with her, without all that sleeping matters.
Solona smiled. "We're great strategists," she said pompously and stretched a hand. He shook it eagerly.
"Ouch, your hand is freezing! Have you been long out there? You can catch cold," she warned him anxiously.
He didn't know how long he sat there beside the spring. But his wet hair was really freezing over.
"Look," his fellow mage gazed at him strictly, "I won't let you freeze yourself. You have to sleep here, no matter what." Alistair felt his heart sank in his belly. Oh, no, not again.
"I'll go wake Morrigan for her watch – it's time anyway – and when I'm back you should be lying under these blankets. And don't forget to remove your armor. And boots," she added with commanding intonation. Alistair just blinked. He never thought she could order him like that. He straightened his back and answered: "Yes ser!"
She only smiled and said: "Carry on, soldier. And if you're so embarrassed you can turn your back to me." Alistair swallowed hard. She saw right through me.
She stood up and headed towards Morrigan fire. He heard some muffled arguments, but then everything gone quiet. She's coming back. He actually was very comfortable, maybe just a bit nervous. And she was right – it was a cool night. Firstly, he heard her footsteps, and secondly he felt her crawling under the blankets. And then pleasant warmness began to emanate from the space between them. Yeah, space. Keep it.
"You smell," she informed him bluntly.
"You too," he retorted. She made an objective noise behind his back. "Smell lavender," he explained and felt a pleased grin appearing on his face.
"That's my soap," she informed him. She sounded absolutely nice.
"Where did you get it?" he asked in surprise. Blight, darkspawn, death and destruction… and she had soap.
"Flemeth gave me it. I asked her and she gave," Solona said yawning between words.
"The Witch of the Wilds has soap? But I thought she was bathing in a barrel full of toads…" Alistair began.
"Shut up! I want to sleep!" Solona whispered in protest. "And don't you dare to form that gap between us…" she grunted. She stretched her right arm – they were both lying on their left sides – and braced his belly firmly.
Wow.
Everything felt so warm, and cozy, and safe, and not lonely… Alistair knew his now had the biggest grin on his face. He felt her regular breath on his neck. She had already fallen asleep. Taking all his courage together he put his right hand over her one. Her hand flinched a bit, but then only hardened its grip.
Right. Hold on me, Sister. Be close.So much for space keeping.
He bit his lip feeling a wave of joy and triumph running through his body. Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep happily.