N/A: I've cut quite a bit in this chapter because I felt like I was dragging it on too long. Rewritten December 9th, 2013
"Ah there you are!" Ohgren said as found Jaleth draped over the balustrade like a rag doll. She had been standing at the exact same balcony when the entire nation had come out to greet their 'Hero of Ferelden.' Oghren had been there, smirking by her side, the brand new captain of the guard.
He didn't think it was possible but she looked even more tired now than she had done after conquering the Blight. Her eyes held a certain kind of sadness he had only seen in in the eyes of people who attended funerals, and he was pretty sure that they were attending a wedding today.
"I have looked sodding everywhere for you," he said as he pat her on the back a little too hard. It still surprised him, the lack of resilience in a human body, the long limbs and the fragile spine. He seemed to be breaking her in half every time he gave her an amicable pat on the shoulder, his fluffy long limbed commander.
"I needed some air."
She looked down the bottom of her empty glass as it dangled over the balustrade, unable to recall the amount of times it had been emptied and refilled.
He belched and then smiled before joining her at the balustrade. He was wobbly, but that was no surprise considering he had started drinking at breakfast. According to Oghren it was a perfectly normal dwarven tradition to be pissed at weddings and funerals, and this wedding was a bit of both.
"Are you drunk?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and looking slightly intoxicated herself.
"Hah! Now what kind of a stupid question is that?"
"The rhetorical kind."
"Now now, there's no need for swearing words commander."
She turned her head away from him with a smile and stared into the distance a little. Nothing was interesting enough to catch her eyes for longer than a couple of seconds. Nothing but the man in the lion armour anyway.
"Are you all right?" the dwarf asked as he moved a little closer to her. He had the grace of a Hurlock and the subtlety of an Ogre, but she appreciated what he was trying to do.
"Now what kind of stupid question is that?"
She repositioned herself to make room for her companion. His closeness did her some good. It reminded her of simpler times, when they were just a bunch of misfits roaming the woods in search of Darkspawn to chop in half.
Things had become complicated too quickly.
"It's a clear night," she mused, looking at the stars over their heads. Little bright lights, echoes from the past.
"Hm," he mumbled in reply.
"Hm what?"
"I don't know how you can stand it," Oghren mumbled.
"Stand what?"
"All that open air, there is so much of it." He pointed up to make sure she got what he was saying. Every one knew humans were a bit thick, they couldn't help it really, their heads were floating too far above the ground.
"The great infinite nothing," she said, gesturing at the sky with her glass.
"I don't like looking up and see the great infinite nothing," the dwarf replied.
"Well, I think it is wonderful."
"Well, I think you're all sodding crazy."
He fell silent and concentrated on digging something out of his pouch, a triumphant look settling on his face as he held out a tiny bottle in front of her.
"Here, drink this, you look like you need it."
"I am all right thank you."
"No – you're not."
She watched him open the bottle, which was always very entertaining. He could open a bottle by just looking at it, but this time he used his teeth instead. A strong odour tickled her nostrils as soon as the lid came off but Oghren did not seem impressed by the smell at all. He just smiled and took a sip before handing it to her. She hesitated for a moment.
"Come on now, it ain't gonna kill ya commander."
"That's what you said last time."
"Aye, and ye'r still here."
He slapped her on the back again, nearly hitting her over the balustrade this time.
"Sort of anyway," she replied, handing him her empty glass so that he could fill it.
"Well 'sort of anyway' is good enough for me commander."