Kristoff had been gone too long. It had been almost eight weeks since her arrival – eight weeks since he had left the inn in Amaranthine.
A newly-recruited man swung at her awkwardly and she parried easily, throwing him off balance. He nearly fell but caught himself. As he dropped into a crouch, the recruit hugged the shield close to his body.
She knew something was wrong, but the Keep and Amaranthine had kept her busy. Now, however, she had time and cause to go. City and Vigil were strong, and trade had flowed through the Pilgrim's Path. Kristoff would tease her for her concern, as he had before, and Erise could already hear his gentle scolding: "Ma petit sœur, tu es trop sérieux!"*
The guard swung again, and she stepped back a few paces, watching as his frustration grew. She usually wasn't quick enough to dodge, but the battered splintmail was light and flexible, and the practice sword weighed no more than half her own. On the practice field she had a speed none of them expected and she used it to her full advantage.
Erise drew her sword back and swung high. The recruit raised his shield and caught the swing, but the blow had him staggering back several paces – he hadn't braced. She was implacable, swinging a second and a third time. The fourth found him on his back, shield clatteringon the ground.
The others watching gave a clap, teasing the young man who had fallen. She held out a hand and pulled him to his feet. "Your form is better. Work on your balance. Lean into a swing if it is aimed at your shield." He nodded once, cheeks flushed, before joining his fellows. She was done for the day.
"Commander?" She turned and met Varel's gaze. His eyes were intent on her. She nodded towards the shed that held the practice gear.
Varel trailed behind her. "Everything you asked me to check is in order." She withdrew a key from her belt and fiddled with the lock a few moments before it gave a satisfying click. "I even asked the staff if anything was needed that we may have overlooked. " She nodded, pulling the heavy door open with a grunt. "Commander, I– "
"I think we have moved far past titles." Erise turned just enough to catch color tint his cheeks as he nodded. "You're certain nothing needs my attention?"
He smiled and shook his head. "No, Erise. I've never seen the Vigil running so well."
"Good." Putting the practice sword on a rusted rack, she began undoing the buckles she could reach. Varel tossed his gauntlets aside before moving to help, tugging at leather straps that were stiff with age and sweat. "I'm leaving to find Kristoff."
His movements faltered a moment. "I see." He cleared his throat. "I'm sure it will be good to have him with you again."
"Yes, the other Wardens have done well, but there is no substitute for time." A small laugh escaped her lips. "I hardly know how to work without him, we have been together so long."
The tugs on her armor stopped abruptly. "You should be able to finish from here. If I have your leave?"
"No, you do not." Erise turned to find her frown matched his. "Is there a problem?"
His expression went smooth and she let out a small grunt. He had learned that look from her. "I don't like being toyed with, Commander."
"Toyed with?" She arched an eyebrow at him. "I was unaware that I was misleading. In fact, I recall being rather explicit." She still wasn't sure what Varel wanted – she knew she wanted him for a dozen different reasons – but Fereldans could be prudish with such things.
He gave a soft laugh. "And I was unaware you were otherwise involved."
Erise blinked, mind racing. "I am?"
He nodded, but he would not meet her gaze. "You and Kristoff. You speak of him with such familiarity that I can only assume you two are…"
"What?" She couldn't help the way her features twisted. "Ugh, no. Kristoff is more a brother to me than my own blood. He and his wife are still in love after years of marriage, I'd never–" She shook her head with a low grunt.
The color in Varel's cheeks had risen again and he fidgeted, expression softening. "Oh." There was a small smile tugging at his lips that soothed her. "I'm sorry then." He moved closer and lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. "Though I can't say I'm sorry I was wrong."
Erise leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. She should have been more offended, but it was nicer to let it go. Much nicer. "You should feel terrible for suggesting such a thing." She tried to keep her tone stern, but amusement crept in all the same.
His breath warmed her ear and her skin prickled. "Of course." Lips grazed against her temple. "Forgive me."
"Commander?" The voice was young and accompanying footsteps quickly grew louder. Erise let out a soft sigh as Varel stepped away quickly.
One of the younger servants ran into the shed, panting hard. "Commander, I have a message for you." He held out a letter.
Her breath caught – the soft blue of the wax was the same color Kristoff always used for his letters. Hands trembling, Erise slid a thumb along the flap and broke the seal, unfolding the paper with increasing urgency.
She read the letter quickly, hoping, praying that there would be some news. Swallowing hard, she refolded the letter and waved away the boy. Varel watched her with soft golden eyes.
"Kristoff's wife will be here soon. If she arrives before I return, see that she is settled in somewhere comfortable with plenty of room." She tucked the letter into her boot, her stomach fluttering nervously.
"I'll make sure she has everything she needs. I –" Varel shook his head. She gestured at him to continue. "Will you be gone long?"
There was the slightest touch of wistfulness to his tone. "I do not know. Certainly longer than it took to clear the trade route. Perhaps two weeks, but no more than three."
He frowned at her. "And when are you leaving?"
"Will two days be enough to prepare? I need a cuisses repaired before we go." Varel nodded, tight-lipped. "Then that is when I shall leave." He still looked unhappy and she stepped towards him, sliding her hand into his. "I'll come back. I have so far, oui?"
"And if you don't?" His voice was hoarse.
"If we do not return in three weeks, send word to Denerim. The king is a Warden and seems a good man. Ask him for a small army." Varel began to protest, but she continued to speak. "You are not to follow, whatever happens."
"I… understand. I don't like this, though. If something happens, there is nothing out there to send word – no traders, no hunters, no farmers." His hand tightened around hers. "Erise, I don't know what we–"
She kissed him. It was too soon to talk in such terms, and she wasn't quite ready to admit she would miss him as well. Still, it was nice to know someone would miss her. When she pulled away he tried to talk again, but she raised a finger to his lips and he grew quiet. "We shall speak when I return."
Varel searched her face before his eyes fell. "I'll let you know when everything is ready. Commander." He bowed slightly before leaving.
Erise watched his retreat with a sigh. Back to that again? No matter. Once she had Kristoff to help with the Architect she could devote proper attention to Varel.
AN: Thanks, as always, to decantate for the beta!
*The Orelsian/French means "Little sister, you're too serious!"
