Keladry's No-Good, Rotten Day

Keladry woke herself coughing. She sat bolt upright, both hands clamped over her mouth and tears streaming down her face as she tried to get her coughing fit under control. At last, the worst of the coughing passed and she slumped to her side, breathing shallowly.

Of all the wretched times to get sick… She was pretty sure this cold had started back in the temple where the Urn of Sacred Ashes lived. If so, the cold had taken its sweet time developing, with only minimal aches and pains to herald the full-blown disease. She'd felt a light sore throat a few days ago, and had been coughing off and on the last couple of days, but thought it was nothing more than the dryness caused by rapidly changing climates, since Haven was much colder and dryer than Redcliffe, so she hadn't wanted to bother Wynne with her concerns. Keladry Cousland always had difficulty asking for help, even from people she knew and trusted, and Wynne was still a new companion, one who had joined only two weeks ago.

As the young Grey Warden caught her breath, she became aware of a tight, clenching pain in her abdomen, and she groaned, pulling her pillow over her face. It never rained, but it poured, as the saying went.

This was something that had come with becoming a Grey Warden, something neither Duncan nor Alistair had warned her about. Of course, it was possible they just didn't know, since neither of them was a woman…before going through the Joining, Keladry's monthly cycles had been an annoyance and messy, but never painful. Since the Joining, though, she'd started cramping badly before and during her cycle. The first time it happened, it scared her badly, but she thought she had a better grip on what was going on this time.

"At least there's a healer this time," she said aloud, her voice muffled by her pillow. She didn't like admitting she needed help, but she wouldn't be much good on the road to the Brecilian Forest if she didn't ask for pain relief; she'd learned that last month, when they had to camp for a full day while she dealt with the pain.

She looked at the canvas and sighed as she rolled to her knees and got up with an effort. She wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep, and it was almost dawn; she might as well do something mildly useful with her enforced wakefulness.

Leliana had the watch that night, and she looked up from her lute as Keladry came out of her tent, buckling her sword belt on as she went. "Was that you I heard coughing up a lung?" the Orlesian bard asked, teasing gently.

Keladry opened her mouth to answer and doubled over in another painful bout of coughing. She braced her hands on her knees and spat out a mouthful of phlegm with a grimace of distaste. "Yep," she said, her voice hoarse.

"You sound awful," Leliana observed, going to Keladry's side in concern. "You're going to get Wynne to have a look when she wakes, yes?" She helped the Grey Warden to a seat beside the fire before putting the battered tea kettle on to boil.

"Right," Keladry said, settling back against a convenient boulder. "Go get some rest; I can't sleep anyway, I'll take the rest of your watch."

"Are you sure you're all right to watch by yourself?" Leliana asked. She went to the communal tea pack and found a soothing mixture Keladry particularly liked.

Jump came out of the sparse forest then, a limp rabbit in his mouth. He looked from woman to woman and wuffed around his mouthful.

"I won't be by myself; Jump can wake the world if he wants to," Keladry said, smiling at her dog with an effort.

"All right; I could use a little more rest anyway," Leliana said, putting the tea mug beside Keladry. She squeezed her friend's shoulder before heading to her tent. Jump trotted to Keladry's side and dropped the rabbit on the ground beside her, wuffing again.

"All yours, boy," Keladry said, the smell of the blood turning her stomach painfully.

He dog-grinned at her and settled in for his meal as Keladry began adding wood to the fire.

There was something to be said for the peace of the pre-dawn camp, broken only by Jump's happy munching, the pop of the fire, and Keladry's occasional hacking coughs. The stars were bright, the moon hovered over the edge of the horizon, and for a moment, she was able to forget about the pain of the moment and the looming fear in the future.

The teapot whistled shrilly, and Keladry reached out to pull it off the fire, not wanting the sound to wake anyone else. Just as her fingers wrapped around the handle, another coughing fit started and her whole arm jerked, dumping hot water all over her hand. She whimpered in pain as she dropped the kettle, splashing the water over the fire and her leg. And still the coughing persisted as she curled into herself, cradling her burned hand against her chest.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her gently back against a solid chest. "Easy," Alistair's voice said in her ear, holding her close enough that she could feel the vibrations of his words through his chest into her back. "Take a breath."

"Trying!" Keladry snapped between coughs.

"I know," Alistair said, still holding her. As her coughs eased a little, she realized how close she'd come to falling into the fire, which Alistair had seen before she did. She winced as all the rest of her pain set in, and she closed her eyes against the tears she couldn't help. Usually she was good about not being a girl about pain, but today…well, today her emotions didn't want to be controlled.

"There you go," Alistair encouraged, patting her shoulder. Were he anyone else, she would deck him for touching her, but Alistair was a special case. They'd been fighting partners for two months, going through hell and back and watching each others' back all the way. She trusted him and thought of him as her best friend.

"Thanks," Keladry rasped, still coughing every once in a while. "Sorry I woke you."

"I was up anyway," Alistair said carelessly. "I was considering coming out to share the watch with you, and then you started coughing." He sat beside her and frowned a little. "What happened to your hand?"

Keladry realized she was still holding her hand against her chest and considered letting it go for all of two seconds before deciding her dignity was already shot to death. "Spilled boiling water on it," she replied.

"Ouch!" Alistair exclaimed. "Here, let me have a look…"

Keladry considered snapping at him again, then sighed and carefully pulled her hand away from her chest. It was curled into a loose fist, and burn blisters made a mottled patchwork pattern across her tanned skin.

"Maker's breath! When you go to hurt yourself, you don't go for half measures, do you?" Alistair asked, gently gripping her wrist and examining the burns.

"Apparently," Keladry said, relaxing a little. She hated asking for help, but when it was offered, it was nice to let someone else take charge for a moment.

"Wynne should be up soon," Alistair said, glancing at the horizon. "Let's get some cold water on that until then."

"Where, the stream?" Keladry asked.

"Good idea," Alistair agreed. He stood and helped Keladry up, using the grip he had on her wrist. Once on her feet, Keladry reclaimed her hand, tucking it against her chest again as they walked down to the stream. Alistair walked beside her, whistling an idle tune with his thumbs stuck in his belt. Keladry couldn't help but smile a little, even through her pain. Alistair had casual nonchalance down to a science, but he couldn't hide his concern, not from her. She was very good at reading facial expressions and body language, and she couldn't help but be touched by his concern.

She knelt beside the stream, and he knelt beside her. "Easy does it," he encouraged as she peeled her hand away from her chest and bent to stick it in the water.

The moment her curled fingers touched the cold water, her whole body jerked in pain, almost dropping her into the stream. Only Alistair's hands on her shoulders saved her from a nasty fall. She clutched her hand to her chest again, tears of pain streaming down her face.

"Easy, 'Drea, easy," Alistair murmured, holding her in a loose hug around the shoulders.

She opened her eyes. "What?" she asked, surprised. "What did you call me?" She'd never heard that nickname before; actually, she didn't hear many nicknames besides "Warden" these days. Back home, her father had called her "Pup", and her brother called her "Kel", which always earned him a punch in the arm. She thought she might like this "Drea" nickname.

Alistair looked embarrassed. "Sorry, didn't mean to say that," he said. "I just… call you that in my head sometimes. It slipped, sorry."

"Don't be," Keladry said, shaking her head a little. The pain had receded to a manageable level, and she silently thanked the Maker for that. "It's fine."

"It is?" Alistair asked, and the uncertainty in his voice made her smile, just a little. That was Alistair; always a little unsure, afraid of putting his foot into something unpleasant, but still charging ahead with a charming carelessness.

"Yes," she replied, letting her head rest back against his shoulder for a second. She had a feeling this was going to be a long day; she was already exhausted, and they hadn't started traveling yet.

She felt tension through his shoulder and turned her head a little to look at his face. He was looking straight ahead, his expression carefully controlled. "Alistair?" she asked.

He jumped a little, jolting her upright. "Yes?" he asked.

"Are you all right?"

He laughed shakily. "Am I all right? You're the one with a burned paw; how's the pain?"

"Manageable," Keladry said, wondering at his dodge. "I think I can try the water again. I know what to expect this time."

"All right, but carefully," Alistair said, shifting to support her.

Keladry looked at him for a moment, considering a possibility she hadn't thought of before now, at least not with any seriousness. But she dismissed it for now; she needed to deal with her hand, and she thought she wanted some time to ponder the revelation she'd just had. "Thanks," she said, shifting to lower her hand into the stream again.

This time, she was ready for the pain and managed to push it to another part of her mind. She set her teeth into her lower lip and bit hard, drawing the pain somewhere else so she could soak her hand. After a moment, the pain diminished as the skin took in the cool from the water, and she sighed in relief, glancing at the horizon. "Wynne should be up soon," she commented. They'd discovered that the enchantress was a disgustingly cheerful morning person, something that never failed to annoy Keladry.

"You do realize you're bleeding, right?" Alistair asked.

For a panicked moment, she was sure he meant her monthly cycle, and wondered how he'd figured that out. Then she tasted blood in her mouth and frowned a little. "Oh, that," she said.

"'Oh, that'?" Alistair mimicked her almost perfectly as he rolled his eyes at her. "You don't bleed from the lips often; I'd've noticed."

"Sure about that?" Keladry teased lightly.

"Pretty sure, I think," Alistair said. "Here, let me…" He fumbled a handkerchief out of his belt pouch and dipped it in the water, then gently wiped her face. She twitched a little at how cold it was, but held still otherwise.

"There you go," Alistair said, smiling at her.

"Thanks," Keladry said, smiling back. She started to say something else, but found that she couldn't look away from his eyes. There was a mixture of uncertainty and fear and hope and some emotion she couldn't quite understand in his brown eyes that drew her in almost hypnotically. She found herself drawn a little closer to him like a moth was drawn to a flame.

Alistair blinked and drew back a little, a bashful blush coloring his cheeks. "Wynne should be awake now," he said. "You should get that hand looked at."

Keladry sighed, but accepted the dodge. She felt a little disappointed, feeling that something had been about to happen, but maybe whatever it was had come before they were ready for it. "Good idea," she said. "Maker knows I'm ready to be rid of this pain!"

They both laughed, and Alistair helped her to her feet.

Back at camp, Wynne was awake, and fussed over Keladry's hand as if it were a dying bird. With anyone else, that kind of behavior would have annoyed Keladry beyond all words, but with Wynne, she always got the sense that she really did care and didn't have any other way to express her feelings. Alistair hovered a little ways away until Keladry's hand was as good as new and she'd stopped coughing, then began taking down his tent. Wynne waited until he was some distance away before murmuring, "He seems rather struck by you, Keladry."

Keladry massaged the healed skin gingerly, relieved by the lack of pain, and said, "I'm his fighting comrade; having my strong hand down would affect all of us."

Wynne raised an eyebrow at the younger woman, but only said, "As you say."

Before Wynne could go back to her tent, Keladry stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "I hate to impose further…" she began.

Wynne turned her full attention on the young Grey Warden. "Is there something else?" she asked kindly.

Keladry blushed a little and looked over her shoulder at the waking camp. Sten was within earshot, and Alistair kept drifting back toward the women. "Um…it's a little…personal," she said.

The enchantress took the hint and followed Keladry a little ways from the camp, Jump bounding at their heels happily. "He seems excited to be on the road again," Wynne commented.

"He likes meeting new people, and getting to kill new things," Keladry said with a wry smile. She took a deep breath and explained her problem to Wynne. Oddly, she found it hard to talk about such a personal problem, even with another woman, even after years around guardsmen. Or maybe that was the problem; she was used to raunchy jokes, but the moment a "personal female problem" came up, all the men scattered to the four winds. Sergeant Caitlin, Keladry's primary trainer, found evil delight in bringing up things like menstrual cycles and pregnancy, just to watch the men blush and run.

Wynne listened carefully, nodding a little occasionally. "Well, we can fix the pain problem right now," she said, resting a hand on Keladry's abdomen. Keladry felt a tingling sensation, and all her pain left in a mind-numbing rush of relief. "As for the future…" the enchantress continued, frowning thoughtfully. "I must examine the problem. I think I can make you a potion to take during your cycle to remove the pain."

"Thank you," Keladry said from the very bottom of her heart.

"It's rather funny, isn't it?" Wynne mused. "We hear all the legends of the Grey Wardens, but never about something as supposedly mundane as how the magical process, whatever it is, affects the body."

Keladry kept her peace about that. She knew some of how the Joining would affect her body; Alistair had given her the full rundown, from appetite changes to early death, a couple weeks ago. "I would suspect many of the women who experienced this particular change just didn't talk about it," she said instead. "I'll put it in my journal, so the Grey Wardens of the future aren't as uninformed as I was."

Wynne smiled. "Good," she said simply.

When the women got back to camp, most of the tents were down already and Alistair was working on Keladry's. He looked up as she joined him in the teardown. "Everything all right?" he asked.

"It is now," Keladry replied, smiling at him. For just a second, she saw a trace of the unidentifiable emotion in his eyes again, and she almost recognized it. It looked familiar, anyway, something she used to see often as a child but couldn't identify it now. Rather frustrating, all things considered. She shrugged a little and wrapped a rope into a coil. She'd figure it out later, if it was important. For now, there was the job in front of them.