Make Me Feel Alive
As quiet as a mouse, Sigrun slipped into the hall. It was dark and empty at this late hour, with everyone else having gone to bed already. She was about to withdraw to her room herself, and all she wanted was to find a book to help her while away another long rainy evening. It had become one of her favourite pastimes, lying curled up beneath the sheets on her narrow cot with an Orlesian romance or one of Brother Genitivi's travelogues.
Caught up in a good book, she could forget how lonely the last months had been, ever since Velanna had left to find her sister. She could stop staring at the empty bed and the few trinkets her friend had left behind. And, if she read until her eyes refused to stay open, maybe she would fall asleep quickly, and there would be no nightmares for once, though that last one was probably too much to hope for.
The walls were lined with bookshelves. Whatever else could be said about the late Arl Howe, he'd assembled quite an impressive library. Or, maybe it hadn't been him. Maybe this was the work of several generations of aristocrats. What would she know about it, a Duster from the slums of Orzammar?
Sigrun picked a slim volume and was about to head for the stairs when she noticed the hunched figure sitting near the fireplace, hardly more than a shadow in the dim light. Stepping closer, she recognized the broad shoulders, the braided dark hair, and the characteristic nose. Nathaniel.
He had seen her and half turned in his seat to greet her. "Sigrun. I was just about to go up."
Yeah, sure. That wasn't what it looked like. His speech was slightly slurred and his posture unusually slouchy. He held a nearly empty wine goblet in his hand.
Sigrun wrinkled her nose. "What's the matter, Nathaniel? Do you need help?"
He chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm not too drunk to manage the stairs yet."
"That's not what I meant." A sudden flash of pity made her step closer.
Velanna's departure must have been tough on him, too, maybe even more so than for her. It was hard to tell what exactly the elven mage had felt for him, but there was little doubt that he had been in love. She remembered the way his face had lit up whenever Velanna was around, remembered how he had laughed off her taunts and slowly, ever so slowly, made her see past her hatred of all shemlen. Sigrun knew they had slept together, but whatever had been between them obviously hadn't been enough to keep Velanna from leaving.
He hadn't answered her yet, and she carefully placed a hand on his shoulder. "Nathaniel?"
"I'm fine." He sounded a lot more sober, but there was a note of hopelessness in his voice that cut straight into her heart.
"No, you're not." With a sigh, she pulled up a chair and sat down facing him, taking both of his hands into hers. "Tell me. Maybe I can help."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're such a sweetheart. But, how could you help me? She's gone, and that's all there is to it. I just have to get over it."
Instinctively she gripped his hands harder. "I'm so sorry. I wish-" She broke off, trying to find something meaningful to say. "I miss her, too, you know. I know how you're feeling."
Nathaniel sighed. "It's all I can think of some days. But, it's not just that I miss her, it's-" He broke off.
"What?" Sigrun cocked her head to the side. "I'm listening."
Nathaniel took a deep breath. "Velanna... I really thought we had something. I wanted to be with her, spend my life with her, build something together. And then she-" He choked on a sob, but shook his head angrily and went on, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. "How can I do this, Sigrun? How can I start all over again? Where am I supposed to find the strength for this?"
She didn't answer, just ran her thumbs over his wrists in soothing circles, and he swallowed hard. "When I came back here from the Free Marches, I found I had lost everything: my possessions, my family, my future. All I'd ever known, all I'd ever lived for was gone, lost because of my father's crimes. So, I told myself I'd start anew, become a good warden, find someone to share the burden with. And now..." He trailed off, his mouth pressed into a hard, bitter line. "Now I need to pick up the pieces again and try to live without her, and it hurts. It hurts so fucking much!" He bit his lip, clearly ashamed of his outburst. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Sigrun raised a hand and gently wiped a tear off his cheek. "Of course it hurts. And you have every right to be in pain, to grieve, to howl, to cry."
"I've done all that, and more. But what now?" He hadn't pushed her hand away, but he was still tense, the line of his powerful shoulders painfully taut. "How-"
Sigrun shrugged. "You go on living. One day after the other. Some will be harder, but as long as there's life, there's hope." She grinned at him, as a thought occurred to her. "And sometimes even beyond that. I should know. I'm dead, remember?"
That got a real smile out of him. "Symbolically dead," he reminded her. "And really perky for a corpse."
She grinned at him. "That's better. Come on. Cheer up and come back to life!"
Nathaniel's heart missed a beat at the sight of her smiling face, sweet and bright despite her grim tattoos. He hadn't expected Sigrun, of all people, to take the time to comfort him. After all, he knew very well what she thought of him. A bigheaded nobleman who would never understand her struggles, who could never imagine the squalor she had grown up in.
Suddenly he felt ashamed. Here he was, whining to her about his broken heart, when she had gone through so much worse. "I'm sorry, Sigrun. Maker knows, I shouldn't complain about my petty problems."
"They are not petty." Her face had grown serious again. "Losing someone you love is no small thing."
Nathaniel took a deep breath. "Still, compared to you-" He couldn't even imagine what it must have been like to join the Legion of the Dead. They'd held a funeral for her, she'd told Anders. He felt a shiver down his spine.
Sigrun tapped her feet impatiently. "It's not a competition, Nathaniel." She was still holding one of his hands and now she squeezed it for emphasis. "Pain is pain, and yours is just as real as mine. None of us has it easy and, in all probability, we'll all be dead soon."
"Thanks for the reminder. That is bound to cheer me up!" He made a face but, if he was quite honest, he was feeling a lot better already. No one could remain grumpy for long in Sigrun's company.
She laughed at his words, a clear, genuine laugh, and, once again, he held his breath. How could he have never noticed what a lovely smile she had, what bright blue eyes? Not to mention those luscious full lips. He couldn't take his eyes off her while she reached for his glass to put it away. Where had this come from?
Nathaniel wasn't thinking very clearly, but he knew with sudden clarity that he didn't want to waste the moment. Slowly, he extended a hand and let it trail along her tattooed cheek, tracing the pattern with his fingertips. She went very still, her eyes wary, but she didn't protest when he leaned in and brushed his lips softly over hers. It was a brief, shy kiss, but it felt incredibly right, and when he pulled back she smiled at him and held his gaze.
He didn't know what to say, didn't want to break the spell, so he just kept looking at her, drowning in the sea blue of her eyes. And then she laughed again, a low, warm laugh this time, and pulled him in for another kiss, her fingers tangling in his long hair. This second kiss was more intense, and when her lips parted, he greedily pressed his advantage and tasted her mouth, exploring with his tongue until she moaned softly.
"Nathaniel." Her fingertips were massaging his scalp gently, and her eyes looked big and dark. "I think it's time you went to bed."
He ran his hands down her slim back. She felt so good; she smelled so good! On impulse, he drew her into his lap, letting her feel the effect she was having on him. "Come with me."
"Oh!" She sat up straight, her expression still cautious. "Really? Is that what you want? Some fun between the sheets?"
He bit back a laugh. So very direct. But that was Sigrun. Everything about her was fresh and simple and easy. Not at all like Velanna. Thinking about Velanna was like a kick to the stomach, though. What was he doing?
"I'm sorry, Sigrun." His face grew sober. "I didn't think... This is not fair to you."
Her forehead creased in irritation. "What do you mean? Is this some noble thing I don't understand?"
Nathaniel sighed. "No, it isn't. It's just... I shouldn't use you to get over Velanna. That's not right. You deserve better."
"Nugshit." Sigrun's voice was clear and determined. "That's not what this is about at all." She shook her head vigorously. "Look, I know you're not in love with me. I'm not in love with you either. At least, I don't think I am," she amended after a brief pause. "But, we're friends, aren't we?"
When he nodded, she gave him an amicable nudge. "So, what's wrong with two friends sharing a little warmth and pleasure on a cold night?" Running a hand up his jerkin, she winked at him. "Take it from one who knows. There's really no better way to feel alive."
He opened his mouth to contradict her, but found that he really didn't want to.
Sigrun grinned happily at his stunned expression. "Your room or mine?"
Hugs and thanks to suilven for an emergency beta job!