The night was warm, the stars were out and the moon shone bright in the sky. I sat quietly on a stump trying to work the chips out of the edge of my blade. Our group had become close, and the blight seemed a distant thing at night. In the morning our troubles would once again be at the forefront of their minds, but in camp we were one big happy dysfunctional family.

"What exactly is that, Alistair?" Leliana looked into the pot hanging over the fire with distaste.

"It's a Fereldan specialty, stew!" He looked up proudly as he scooped the Grey muck up and let if fall into the pot again. My face went sour as the lumps fell back into the pot with a sick squishy sound. I couldn't cook but even I knew THAT wasn't normal.

"Ok but maybe if we added..."

I drown them out and turned my attention to Ogren who was of course drunk and chasing my loyal mabari Talon around the camp. I squinted to get a closer look then laughed, Talon had a pair of Ogren's trousers in his massive jaw, round one to Talon.

I looked at Morrigan, she was sitting with Wynne as they poured over magic tomes we had found in some old ruins. I was glad they had become friends, the two mages were powerful and helpful. Wynne the designated camp mother and healer, and beautiful Morrigan the resident bitch. I chuckled.

I heard a loud thud from my left and turned, Shale had found another bird trying to sneak into camp apparently, her massive rock foot was covered in blood and feathers. Sten was questioning the golem trying to understand this seething hate for birds.

I turned my gaze again looking over at the Antivan Assassin. Once he was hired to kill me, now we shared a tent. The maker had a sense of humor. I watched him for a time as he swung his daggers, his hands were blurs as he went through a series of skillfully executed maneuvers, the firelight catching the deadly steel, casting its shadows across his bare chest. Oh how I loved him...

… … … … … … … ...

A breaking twig pulled me from my thoughts as Talon and I slowly made my rounds along the edge of camp. It was a boring job most nights but tonight it was just plain miserable. I was cold, wet, and in a foul mood to match the weather. It had started raining that afternoon and had yet to let up, at least it drown out that infernal snoring from Ogren.

Zevran stepped out from the shadows he wore his hair down tonight, it had grown since we first met and it was plastered to his head and face from the rain. He was already soaked to the bone, and could not be more lovely to me. Talon let out a quiet happy bark at the Antivan and trotted off toward the tents. Traitor.

"Zevran." I said in a monotone voice.

"Warden." He said and grinned, maker when he looked at me like that...

"What brings you out here, you don't watch tonight. You should get some sleep, we march for Denerim tomorrow and I doubt we will have much rest before the landsmeet." I grumbled pushing a loose strand of hair from my eyes.

"I thought I might come and see if you wished company. It can be dreadfully boring on watch by yourself. Perhaps we can find a way to entertain one another." He said as he pulled the leather tie that had held my hair back. "You should keep your hair down my dear warden, you look far more handsome this way."

I grinned and grabbed him pulling him close. Perhaps the future held something different from what I hoped for. But for now I was happy with my friends, and grateful for Zevran who made fighting the blight worthwhile, though I dare never tell him out loud how much I loved him.