Chapter 7: Acceptance and Pol
"I have watched you for a time..." Ahimee was praying to the Creators that this would go well. "...perhaps I was wrong." Ahimees jaw almost dropped to the floor. "There seems to be something special between the two of you." She said as she continued healing her. She seemed so calm, so... peaceful as she talked. "His demeanor changes when he's with you. There is a tenderness to his gaze I'd never seen till now." She said and Ahimee whimpered as her wounds started feeling a little bit like the areas we're getting stung by hundreds of bees. She braced herself for more pain.
"But I've seen it from the start. " Ahimee replied to Wynne still rather cautious. She doesn't know what to tell Wynne, sometimes the old lady could joke around. But other times she a horrid angry glare when Ahimee had cracked a joke... usually when she told dirty ones though. She smiled at Wynne. It wasn't nearly as carefree as Ahimee would have wanted though, it was a horrible nervous mixture of emotions. Wynne looked up at her once again, smiling.
"Perhaps he just allowed you to see it." Wynne said. "I think I was too harsh in my judgment before, and I am sorry." She continued and looked genuinely sad about it.
"You just wanted what was best for both of us." Ahimee replied still smiling. She knew that Wynne had just wanted the best for them. She was always looking out for Ahimee which made her feel safe. Hopefully Ahimee had returned the favor over the last year but she doubted she ever could.
"What you have may not last forever; death and duty may part you, but love's worthiness is not diminished because of that. I should have seen this before." Wynne said and it looked like she was just about to finish up the healing as the wounds we're almost closed up. "Instead, you learn to cherish every precious moment that you spend together, knowing that it may be the last." She rose slightly to be able to reach the smaller cuts and bruises Ahimee had received. "And for those of us watching... well, it brings warmth to these old bones to know that something so beautiful can be found in the midst of chaos and strife." Ahimee felt a huge lift of her shoulders as Wynne spoke. It was like a relief, like the old woman's acceptance had just picked half of Thedas off her shoulder.
"Thank you, Wynne." Ahimee said smiling.
"It should be me thanking you, after all, you've done so much for me. More than I could've ever hoped for." Wynne replied as she stood up. "Your wounds are just about healed, but you'd do good to rest another night before we set out to Redcliffe." Wynne said and Ahimee smiled wider at her.
"Sten won't be happy, we've wasted enough time." She replied and Wynne gazed warmly at her.
"I think Sten can overlook one night, there is a good reason after all." She said and before leaving she nodded towards Ahimee. Probably as some human good-bye gesture.
Ahimee was now in her chambers, she had spoken to Morrigan who had been as cold as usual since Ahimee's "mongrel" was there as well. But her beloved mabari was nothing to feel dismay over. After all, he was named after the newcomer in her clan. Her very own little Pol. In the beginning she had tried to recreate her clan, or at least see what was alike with her new comrades and her new companions. She concluded quickly that Morrigan didn't really fit as any of those in her clan however and her plan failed miserably. Quite unlucky for her at the time, her mabari slept with her in her tent during nights and she brought him along everywhere. She still does, but nowadays Zevran shares her bedroll. Instead of a giant hound.
"What do you think?" She said turning to the hound referring to the Landsmeet. "Do you think I did the right thing?" The dog barked, wagged his tail. "Really?" She continued with a smile."What if I had made you king of Ferelden, what would've happened then?" She asked and the hound whined a little while looking extremely puzzled. Right when Ahimee was going to dismiss the question he jumped up into the air, barked and ran in a circle with a wagging tail.
"Are you sure you're clever enough to run a country, Pol?" She said and the hound stopped, sat down quickly and turned his head to the roof. "We don't want a Hohaku to happen, right?" Hohaku was a hound who became blinded by his pride and attacked those who took care of him. It was a curious tale she had heard from the soldiers that hailed from Highever at Ostagar. She had recited it to Pol as well and now he whimpered and backed away quickly. Ahimee laughed.
"Don't worry, do you see any other remarkable hounds around here?" She said happily and the big dog jumped straight up to her in the double bed and licked her face. Ahimee laughed as it tickled and she hugged Pol happily. It was truly a shame that she had never gotten to know the elven Pol properly. However, if the real Pol was half as great as her hound she had a feeling they would've gotten along just fine. Before she noticed it and could stop it tears had formed and fell down her cheeks. She was crying again. Bawling like a small child.
Pol whimpered beside her, sod it. She hugged him and kept crying and the hound howled loudly. The whole estate probably heard him and he hushed him softly. She was crying, crying like no other. Sod it all as Oghren usually said.
Knock, knock.
The knocking awoke her from her crying and she looked up from Pols painted fur. She didn't feel like opening it, she really didn't. However she had to, everyone seemed to come to her. She needed to rest. She walked up the door, dried her wet cheeks, put on a smile and opened the door.
As the door opened someone forced themselves on her and kissed her with a type of fierce passion that was unmatched for her unless it was Zevran. He broke away from her and grinned at her chock. He always managed to surprise her.
"Now, when I still got you in the midst of passionate chock, tell me what burdens you, my dear." As he spoke she felt as if her heart got at least a thousand times heavier and she started crying again. Zevran locked his safe arms around her as she buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed as a little child. Pol pushed the door close as she and Zevran sank to the floor. Zevran slowly ran through her hair with his fingers as he'd done before but of several different reasons, never because Ahimee was... homesick. She sobbed whilst telling him about what Wynne had said, what had ran through her head as she cut Loghains head off. She told him about everything.
Except Tamlen, she didn't tell him about Tamlen. Like it was some huge secret not worthy of sharing with the love of her life. Like Tamlen was suppose to be forgotten and forgotten forever. It was like Zevran didn't have to know who her first love was.
Hours later she stopped sobbing and by then she and Zevran was just laying in the bed and Zevran told her some other story of some silly Orlesian noble he had met on his travels, making even her most sorrowful moments filled with joyful memories. She was smiling when she finally fell asleep, as so many times before when she fell asleep right where she belonged in the arms of Zevran; he might not be her first love but she would die happy if he was her last.
