Arja marched to her chamber, shut the door and slumped on the bed. Alistair came unexpectedly, but the disease and its magic roots were much more worrisome. The gray were rare themselves, but at the Keep she was the only mage at the moment. She hoped they would handle the renegades. She hoped she would handle the magic.
Alistair could prove very helpful in the matter, though at first she had refused to admit it. Now she was tired, alarmed by the situation and grateful for his help. He was… he is a good man, she thought, and his involvement did not really hurt her. She quickly bathed and cooled the air in the room down - she learned the trick during one of the field trips in summer - it was much easier to sleep when it was cold. But she could not drift off, she barely managed to lay still, and when she heard the door closing after someone in the hall, she got up and went out. The Keep was still awake, wardens who were supposed to stay tomorrow had no reason to go to bed early.
She saw two of the Alistair's guards chatting up with the grey in the dining hall, saw maids from the village fawning around them and noted the chief of the night shift exiting with a cup of hot drink to keep him awake at night. She went through the main hall and around the keep to a small park with a tiny pond and some flowers planted by Nate's wife Alana. That woman was lovable and nice. As if she had not have to suffer from hunger and poverty when the darkspawn attacked her home town. As if she had not have a single bad thing happen to her in her life. It was not strange Nate fell for her, decided the mage. She represented the sun in the lives of those around, and even Oghren swore less around her. He even tried not to swear at all, to no avail, but the thought counted anyways.
Arja lowered on her knees and saw a broken branch of an apple tree hanging in front of her. She raised her arm and closed her palm around the hurt part. She was not sure it would work but when she took her arm off and opened her eyes, the branch was whole again and a leaf that was flaccid even looked rejuvenated.
- I believe you were going to sleep. And I am sure you were not able to do such a thing before, - Alistair noted, leaning close to the branch. Arja was startled and let go of the tree limb. It immediately sprung to live and flew upwards, but Alistair easily evaded it.
- Holy Andraste's flaming….! - Arja jumped up. - I am sure before you could not come as close as silently, you would have awakened a dead man with all the shuffle!
- Easy with the blasphemy, the Chantry does not approve of holy things being referred to in exclamation like this one.
- Oh, sure, - she frowned, but the wry frown broke and she she giggled, then laughed out loud. - Leliana would have a cow…
- She would. And we would not hear the end of it, - he smiled childishly. - And I never was that clumsy. I mean to resurrect people all…
- You wish… But I'm impressed, I almost never never knew men as big and broad moving so swiftly in stealth.
- Almost? You mean I'm not the only one? - he feigned indignance.
- No, - she shook her head. - Nate can also do that. - she plopped on the grass, crossing her legs in front of her. - He would even do this, - she gestured at her bottom, - silently.
- Would he? - Alistair grew serious. - Care to tell me what is he doing here? - he sat down near her.
- What we all do. He is a warden, he survived the initiation, he slayed the Architect - it was even his arrow that took him down, I was breathing in the dust as the Architect knocked me over.
- So he is an ally now? - Alistair clarified.
- He is. He is also a friend. A husband, a father, a mentor and a brother.
- So he has siblings and they did not come to strangle you in your sleep. - Alistair put in it an assertion.
- Aha. His sister knew the father went mad, she was the one to convince Nate I was no eating babies and turning people into frogs for fun. He tried to kill me first, but in the end…
- Kill?!
- Well , he came to find out who was an impostor occupying his stronghold, then he found out I had a hand in the demise of his father… But it turned out well.
- Are you sure… - Alistair did not know how to put the question.
- Am I sure he is not going to pull a Loghain and turn on me or you? I am. As much as I can be. He was so keen on pleasing his father that he did not see what he really was. His sister and his wife are reminders.
- So you think people change this mach? From person set to kill you to an ally?
- Really, Alistair? Forgetful much? One ex-assassin is a friend of mine.
It was the first time in years she called him by his name and he trailed off thinking about it. She took up after a brief pause.
- And I don't think people change at all. They are just not as simple as we believe thinking we know them. What they do and think is always there. - She closed her eyes.
- So I am the same clutz I was? - He tried to evade what seemed an innuendo.
- Yes. And no. You now possess your body. Have better control. You learned new tricks, but you always learned fast, so it is reasonable.
- And you learned something.
- I learned a lot. - she simply shrugged, not bragging, but stating the fact. - So did you. Good for us, huh? - she looked at him and smiled again. A sad smile it was.
- Why so down hearted?
- Just tired, - she stifled a yawn.
- So go to bed. Can I trust you'll find your bed yourself this time? - Alistair
- I'll do my best, - she told in a sing-songy manner getting up.
- Good night.
- Night, - she waved at him and turned around.
She cooled the air in the room again and went to sleep almost immediately, as she used to do in the camp. Their friendly conversation was also a necessary prelude for going to bed three and a half years ago. Tonight was almost like then - even though they avoided some topics and words, averted treading on each other's corns - they talked and enjoyed it.