Early Evening at Camp

They found two ponds fairly close together and decided to camp next to them. After they set up their tents, Alistair started some water for stew and Jannasilane went through the mage's items more carefully. When she found soap and a hairbrush she bit her lip in excitement and looked longingly at the far pond partially hidden by some bushes. It had been days since she felt safe enough to bathe. That was a long time for somebody used to bathing every day. Seeing that everybody else was occupied in their own endeavors she decided now was as good a time as any. She grabbed the robe and her dress, thinking she might as well wash them while she had the chance. She slipped away, letting the others know where she was and prepared to indulge.

Alistair finished the preparations for stew and thought about taking a quick bath in the pond. Since leaving the Chantry he had deliberately not bathed as often as he was accustomed to; it was his own protest against the daily freezing baths all trainees were required to take. Cleanliness might be favored by the Maker but he never understood why the water had to be freezing. Some mornings he felt his private parts were shriveling to nothing. He had to wash a lot of pots and pans for asking that question, but at least that water was warm. Ever since meeting Jannasilane he had been more aware of himself and realized he needed to get clean. He could also admit to himself that he preferred being clean and that he was only hurting himself at this point. He gathered together his things and, as soon as he saw Jannasilane returning, hurried to the ponds.

Alistair scrubbed his skin and hair and his thoughts drifted towards the small woman who had recently been here. The thought of her wet and naked wouldn't go away. He kept visualizing sucking on her nipples, sinking his hands into her rear, kissing and biting those lips. In his mind it was her hands all over his body, tangling in his hair, her slick body sliding against his. Images of her opening to him as he entered her kept him rock hard as he bathed. Finally, though he preferred not to after his years with the Chantry, he took himself in hand and quickly worked himself to release, moaning her name. "And that's probably as close as you'll get if you don't change some of your ways, Alistair," he berated himself as he dressed in moderately clean clothes. "I should probably wash my clothes soon," he grumbled, disgusted with the bad habits he had let himself get into.

Jannasilane was sitting near the fire when he returned, slowly working the tangles out of her hair. Blake and Leliana were sitting nearby. He quickly moved the stew closer to the center after giving it a good stir. Jannasilane looked over, "It smells wonderful, Alistair, I look forward to partaking."

Blake laughed, "You must not have eaten in days; Alistair's a lousy cook." He caught a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks and noticed her hand clutching her hairbrush.

Alistair also noticed. His eyes widened and he moved to sit next to her. When she turned away from him he put his arm over her shoulders so she was leaning against him. He ducked his head to try and see her face, "hey, hey, it's alright. When did you last have something to eat?"

Jannasilane looked at him with wide eyes, the kindness in his voice snaking past her defenses, "A-almost a week."

"Oh, you poor dear," Leliana exclaimed, "What happened?" Blake drew closer and sat on the other side of her.

The obvious concern in her voice and Alistair's expression loosened the grip she'd been keeping on her emotions. A tear slid down her face as she stared at the brush in her hands. When she started to tremble Alistair couldn't help himself, he just picked her up and set her in his lap, surrounding her with his arms and stroked her hair. He had a brief moment to think how well she fit before she began speaking in broken sentences. "My parents, our home . . . there was a fire. They were trapped in the house. They . . . they were killed."

"I am so very sorry. What a terrible thing to happen, I am glad you survived," Leliana spoke quietly in a soothing voice.

Blake narrowed his eyes and asked the question he and Alistair were both thinking, "I thought you said Duncan was your father."

Jannasilane felt his suspicion and could feel Alistair drawing away mentally, though his hand kept stroking her hair. "Duncan, I am the child of his seed, yes. But he did not know me or I him. We were planning to go to Denerim when I turn seventeen in order to meet him. The man I call Father is the man with whom my mother wed and shared her life, the man who helped raise me and taught me. I am the child of his heart and he is the father of mine," she lifted her head defiantly and stared at Blake, then Alistair. "I did not lie."

"You're sixteen?" Alistair asked quietly in some disbelief. "I'm lusting after somebody who's practically a child. I am a drooling lecher." He took a breath, "I'm sorry about what happened to your parents. When did this happen?"

"Two, maybe three weeks ago. The days are kind of muddled. I heard about the king's army and the Blight, so I decided to go to Ostagar. There I . . . I don't want to talk about this anymore." She stood up and walked away into the trees.

Alistair looked after her, wanting to comfort her and not knowing how. Blake looked at him, "let her go, Alistair. She needs at least a few minutes. When she comes back you can talk to her if she wants to talk. She's pretty strong if she's been on her own with little food for that long. It's pretty amazing, really, I never would have guessed from the way she fought." Blake waited until Alistair turned back to the stew, "nor would I have guessed she was only sixteen." He smirked when the big blond groaned and he patted Alistair's shoulder in commiseration. Sixteen certainly explained the air of innocence he detected earlier, Blake thought. She was probably a virgin too. Poor Alistair.

Jannasilane came back, her lashes wet but her face was dry. The others were already eating and Alistair handed her a small bowl, "you need to eat, and you should start slowly with small portions," he said quietly. She nodded but just sat there for a few minutes looking into the fire. Finally Alistair spoke up, "umm, if you like I could brush your hair for you while you eat." She still didn't say anything so he decided to take that as a yes and found her brush and sat down behind her. He very carefully and very slowly worked the brush through her hair, patiently undoing any tangles he found. He tried to think of her as a child who needed comfort, but it was difficult. He could feel her relaxing and felt good when she started to eat.

Later, Jannasilane retrieved the clothes she'd left behind at the pond. The clothes were dry enough so she could examine them. She looked at Alistair shyly and gathered up her courage to speak to him again. "Alistair, if the long robe is enchanted will I do any harm by cutting it?"

"Umm," Alistair stirred the remaining stew as he thought about getting a third helping, "not that I know of, but you should probably ask Morrigan, she would know more about that than I would." He sympathized with her when she pouted, but couldn't help thinking how kissable she was. "She's coming this way, ask her."

"Ask me what, pray tell?" Morrigan sighed dramatically and sneered at the lot of them.

Jannasilane stood so she could look up at the other woman without straining her neck and held up the robe. "This robe, I want to cut it to fit and was wondering if I would mess up any enchantments. Would you please take a look?"

Morrigan snatched the robe and rolled her eyes, "Very well." She ran her hands over it and concentrated. "There are some nice resistances here, some armor and defense properties, but the active principles are all in the belted area. You can cut off the skirt, the sleeves, even the neck without damaging the enchantments. The worst that would happen if you cut into it elsewhere is that you'd only be left with the armor property which was woven into the cloth itself." She handed the garment back to Jannasilane.

"Thank you, Morrigan, for your assistance," Jannasilane replied. The witch just nodded regally. Behind her back Blake rolled his eyes mockingly. Morrigan brewed herself some tea, or something, and watched as Jannasilane quickly started cutting into the robe. "Why are you cutting before you even try it on?" she demanded.

Jannasilane looked up with amusement, "I am nowhere near as tall as you or the mage who owned this garment. I am cutting what I know I will want or need to cut and then I will try on this robe. I do not think tripping over the bottom will allow me to properly judge the fit."

"You have a point," the witch grudgingly admitted before returning to her own tent site.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Janna," Alistair said quietly. Blake was amused to see the woman, no, girl blush at Alistair's attention. "And," Alistair added gallantly, "Since you don't have a tent you can take mine."

"No, I will not take your tent from you," she replied with pride and fire in her eye.

"Janna . . ."

"No!"

"Well, you can at least use it to change, or whatever you need to do in privacy," Alistair said in some exasperation.

Jannasilane nodded regally, "That I can do. I appreciate your kindness, Alistair." She stood up with the robe and entered Alistair's tent.

Blake joined Alistair by the fire. He smirked at the scowl on Alistair's face, "nice try on getting her into your tent." When Alistair glared at him he laughed, "I don't know if I trust her, but I like her. She's got a lot of spirit. And pride. I imagine that's what has kept her going these past few weeks."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Alistair sighed. "I just don't like the idea of her sleeping out alone, vulnerable. She's practically a kid." "I need to keep reminding myself of that," he thought.

"Alistair, she may be young, but she's not a child. And she's still a sexy little package whether you want to admit it or not."

Whatever Alistair might have said in response was cut off when Jannasilane came back out of the tent. In addition to cutting off the bottom of the robe she'd cut off the sleeves and opened up the neckline a bit. Her breasts were completely covered to both Alistair's relief and disappointment. The mage had been taller than but not as curvy as Jannasilane so the robe was a snug fit around her breasts and hips while a little loose in the waist. As a templar in training he'd had plenty of time to observe that the women's robes all seemed to draw the eye to the shape of their breasts and the sway of their hips. This robe was no exception, the close fit accentuating these areas even more. When cutting the bottom, Jannasilane followed the pattern of the skirt, so it was below the knees at the sides but sloped to a higher point in front and back. Overall, while her curves were very much in evidence she managed to look taller and leaner and strangely elegant.

Blake thought so too. His mind full of masculine appreciation he approached the young woman. As he told Alistair, he might prefer men as a rule but he wouldn't mind exploring the many curves of Jannasilane. None of these thoughts showed on his face when he spoke, "What do you think? Whether you meant to do it or not, I think it's quite flattering. And the dark green looks very nice with your hair and eyes." He was amused by her blush, "Definitely a virgin. With her age and their combined inexperience I wonder if she and Alistair will ever get together. She seems to like him; Maker knows he's infatuated with her. But if she's playing us or hurts him . . ."

"I think it will be fine. It moves better than I expected, but I need to test it out. Would you spar with me, Blake? Just long enough for me to decide whether I need to do more?" Jannasilane looked up at him and waited for an answer.

"I'd be happy to, but why not ask Alistair?"

Jannasilane thought how to explain herself, "You fight as a rogue with quickness and agility. Countering you will give me an idea of any changes I need to make in just a few minutes." "And I do not think I can fight Alistair. I do not wish to hurt him; he has been kind and . . . he has been kind," she thought to herself, not ready to admit even to herself the strength of the pull she felt towards the big man with sun gold hair.

Alistair was watching them and stood up in horror when it looked like Blake was attacking Jannasilane. She quickly countered and their movements were a blur of activity for the next few minutes. Alistair wasted no time moving to stop the fight only to find himself sidelined by both of them at the same time. He grunted when he hit the ground, Jannasilane sprawled on top of him. "Ali, Ali, are you hurt?" her hands were softly stroking his face and her voice was husky with suppressed emotion. "We should have told you, I just wanted to test the movement of the robe, we were not trying to hurt each other. Ali?"

He heard Blake chuckling and turned his head to see his friend grinning at him, and then back to the curvy woman on top of him. The concern in her eyes and voice was his undoing. Nobody had ever looked at him that way, with concern over whether he, Alistair, might be hurt. The feel of her hands on his face and the warmth of her body on top of him were too much. He didn't even think. He wrapped his arms around her and dragged her mouth to his. His kiss was awkward at first, but when she responded he became surer of himself. He nipped her bottom lip and at her gasp slid his tongue into her mouth to dance with hers. She was hesitant and then joined him enthusiastically. It was only when he realized his hand was cupping and squeezing her rear did he come to his senses. Quickly he sat up, causing her to hang onto him rather than find herself flung to the ground. Carefully he set her aside. He gritted his teeth and ran his hand through his hair. He looked at her and gulped at the signs of awakened desire on her face and her lips swollen from his kisses. He took her hand in his and forced himself to look into her eyes, "I'm sorry, that was rude of me to grab you like that. You're a beautiful young girl and deserve more respect and restraint than I just showed."

Confusion and embarrassment chased themselves across her face before her emotions became unreadable. With an awkward attempt at dignity she nodded her head and stood up to go back into the tent, his tent. "How was it?" Blake asked the now brooding templar, amusement still evident in his voice. It was colored with wonder and sympathy when he added, "I don't think I have ever seen two people ignite that quickly."

"Doesn't change the fact that she's sixteen, practically a child, and I'm twenty-two. Maker, that was beyond anything I expected. And she's probably vulnerable since her parents died recently." Alistair buried his face in his hands in misery, "she's going to come to her senses and realize I'm the randy old goat her parents warned her about and want nothing to do with me."

Blake looked at Alistair. He wasn't sure what to do or say; tentatively he put his arm around the other man's shoulders in camaraderie and support. When he felt Alistair was calmer he began speaking slowly, "Alistair, first I want to remind you that you are a good man. But if you expect to be perfect at all times you are going to drive yourself around the bend. Second, I could easily say that right now you are also vulnerable because of Ostagar. Third, it may surprise you to know that many girls are married at fifteen or sixteen and would consider themselves lucky to be married to a handsome young guy such as yourself instead of their much older husbands. She's young, but not a child and you insult both of you by thinking that way. Finally, you have feelings for her, and maybe they will burn out as quickly as they flared up, but I think she also has feelings for you. I've had a number of lovers, male and female, since I was fourteen, and I didn't experience that intensity with any of them. I actually envy you. Don't throw away the possibility just because you think she's too young for you. She's been on the road alone for three weeks since her parents died a tragic death. She's had to grow up faster than otherwise. Take it slow if you want, give yourselves time to actually get to know each other, but don't close the door or one day you may regret it. Just think about what I said." With one last pat on the shoulder he stood up and left Alistair alone with his thoughts.

Blake couldn't help laughing at himself. "Wouldn't Fergus be amused at this situation? I've always taken my affairs fairly lightly and here I am giving advice to an inexperienced ex-templar. Add that I wouldn't mind bedding both of them separately or together and you have the ingredients for one of those naughty Antivan comedies Mother tried to keep us from reading. Now we just need to add a jealous lover in the mix," he thought wryly. He watched from a distance as Jannasilane came out of Alistair's tent, now wearing the smaller Chasind style robe. She pointedly ignored Alistair and came to the fire and began cutting a little more off the bottom off the long robe. He walked over and sat next to her, watching her work, he wanted to get a better sense of her. She finished trimming the robe and put it aside to look at what was left of her dress. "Aren't you going to finish the edges of the green robe?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

He picked up the robe and got out the needles and thread they purchased in Lothering. "See where the threads are loose where you cut the fabric?" She nodded her head. "If you don't do something with the edge, they will start to unravel and make it easier to tear. Watch," he threaded the needle and began working on the robe, "if you stitch the edges like this, they will be stronger and look neater. You try it." He gave the robe back to her and watched her begin, "no, not quite like that. Here, and then loop and pull," his arms were around her as he guided her hands to correct her stitching. "That's it. Keep it steady, once you get used to it you'll find yourself going a lot faster." He dropped his hands to the ground behind him and leaned back.

"How very . . . domestic of you, Warden," Morrigan sneered.

Alistair joined them in time to hear Blake's answer, "Yes, I'll make somebody a wonderful wife one day." He clasped his hands to his heart and batted his eyelashes, "It's my hope and dream to find that special someone. Oh Morrigan, Morrigan, make my dreams come true, be the man to take me away from all this!" By this time he was on his knees, one hand reaching towards the witch entreating her to join him.

Morrigan was fuming. "And I thought he," pointing to Alistair, "was the idiot. I did not realize this was a requirement for being a Warden." She stalked off.

Jannasilane was laughing so hard her breasts were practically shaking out of her robe, causing Alistair to swallow hard even as he was smiling. Leliana was giggling musically and Blake pretended to be heartbroken and looking down at the ground. Sten was looking at them all in displeasure and went to talk to General Lee, the only intelligent being among them. "Blake, it is very unusual for a soldier to be so familiar with sewing, though most can do very basic repairs. How did you become so knowledgeable?" Leliana asked when they were all calmer. Alistair was sitting across the fire from Jannasilane so he could watch without being too obvious.

"My mother. About three years ago I took a bad fall and broke my left arm and leg. I was used to being very active and you can imagine that at eighteen and suddenly finding myself completely unable to get around was worse than the actual pain. The healer fixed the breaks, but said I needed at least six weeks before I should start moving around and training again or I might do more damage. Poor Mother was at her wit's end when she decided I should learn needlework. Elissa, my baby sister," he paused and took a deep breath before he could continue, "didn't like to practice so Mother put us both together. She said that when I was on the road I couldn't count on having a servant to do any mending for me and as far as she was concerned it was a necessity for every soldier to know the basics. I think she had Elissa practice with me just to make sure she was practicing but I was surprised to find it relaxing. And it kept my fingers nimble, which is important for a rogue." He laughed in memory, his face lighting up and for a moment he looked young and carefree. "I was getting good enough to make Elissa work harder. She was very competitive, my baby sister. No way was she going to let a boy be better at something she was supposed to know. It was okay for her to be better at fighting than many, though." He went silent as he remembered the last time he saw Elissa, her torn nightgown and . . .

Jannasilane was wistful when she began speaking, "I always wanted brothers and sisters, but it never happened. My mother taught me much about her potions, and was planning to teach me more skills with needle and thread while we traveled to Denerim. There never seemed to be enough time on the farm. I think she would have agreed with your mother, Blake, that all should be skilled enough to make repairs. Thank you for showing me."

Blake looked at her; "maybe I'll pretend you're my little sister" he said with a smile and brought a mug of water to his lips.

Jannasilane ducked her head so he wouldn't see the wicked mischief in her eyes. Very quietly, so only he would hear, she asked quizzically, "You thought of your sister as a 'sexy little package?'" She was rewarded when water spewed out of his mouth and he started coughing violently. Calmly she pounded him on the back, "you should be more careful. Are you alright, do you need anything?"

When he finished coughing he looked into Jannasilane's eyes and saw mischief mixed with intelligence and kindness. "I think you might be more like her than I thought. I can't believe you heard that."

"I have very good hearing and on the road I am more alert. I do not pry, but I could not help what I heard. I moved farther ahead to give you privacy." She answered his unspoken question, "Here in camp I can relax and concentrate on other things, I do not hear so much. I know you spoke to Ali earlier," and that was the only reference she was going to make to what happened, "but I do not know what was said. Nor did I try." She sat back down and picked up the robe and began stitching again. Blake could only think that being a Warden was very interesting so far and wondered what other surprises lay in store.