With the additional assistance from the three Dalish hunters, the progress of the group as they carried Alistair through the Brecilian Forest was relatively straightforward. Headed to the campsite abandoned by the other Dalish clan, their slow yet steady pace ensured that they arrived—as Athras had predicted—just as the encroaching darkness was beginning to make itself a nuisance while navigating through the undergrowth.
Emerging from the thicket of ferns and weeds which had sprung up where once aravels stood, the group flinched as the sudden brightness of the lanterns contrasted with the deepening gloom to which their eyes had accustomed. There were only a handful of Dalish scattered about the area but at the arrival of the two Wardens, Witch and the four other members of the clan, the campsite became a hub of activity.
Without quite knowing how, Elissa found herself standing to one side with Athras, Morrigan and the Mabari while Alistair was taken to a large tent which had been constructed on the other side of the camp. Without the aravels, the elves had been forced to resort to other means of providing shelter. Beneath the canopy, Lanaya moved about as she prepared to tend to the wounded human about to be entrusted to her care.
"Warden."
The unexpected use of her title jolted Elissa from her thoughts. She lowered her gaze to find a young elven man standing in front of her.
He gave a slight bow in acknowledgement that he had her attention and as indication that he was at her service. " My name is Otholin. I am to provide any healing you might require while the Keeper sees to your companion."
Refocusing on the tent, Elissa gestured towards Athras and Morrigan with a distracted wave of her hand, signalling that they be examined first.
"Your neck requires attention, Elissa," Athras leant towards her, speaking in a low tone. "Allow him to examine you."
His words reminded the young Warden of the self-inflicted wound she had given herself. While the pain from the gaping gouges scoring the back of her neck had not lessened since they had emerged from the ruins, it had long since ceased to be relevant. It simply blurred with all the other hurts which afflicted her. At Athras' continued insistence however, Elissa was at last persuaded to consent to a thorough examination by the novice healer while the other two availed themselves of the food which was brought to the trio.
However, while she may have forgotten the injury once, there was precious little chance that Elissa would be allowed to forget it again. After a multitude of poking and prodding, Otholin expressed concern regarding the grime and gore encrusting her skin and insisted that the Warden bathe before he continue his treatment. The healer took a step backwards and subjected her to a critical stare before pointing into the forest. Evidently the water already fetched to the camp for the purpose of bathing was not sufficent for this image of filth before him. There was a shallow pool which lay a short distance downstream, he explained: she should wash entirely and then return to him.
Elissa hesitated, her eyes flicking once more towards the canopy. The call of the taint was too weak; she knew if she moved any further from Alistair then it would disappear entirely from her head. As though sensing her dilemma, the Mabari whined and pushed his nose against her hand. When she glanced down, he stared up at her for a moment before trotting across camp and setting himself down near the tent. The message was clear: he would stand guard and ensure that should the worse happen, she would be fetched immediately.
It was enough. Doing as she was told, Elissa bathed in the pool. The chill of the water prompted a gasping shriek from her, but otherwise it was an unremarkable process. Certainly, she appreciated no longer having dried blood and dust ingrained across her skin. Dressed in fresh clothes—there were one or two of the Dalish men who matched her for height and build, it seemed—Elissa returned to the novice healer.
With the majority of the grime already washed away, Otholin could concentrate on cleansing the wound of all the remaining impurities. So it was that Elissa found herself kneeling on the ground, biting her lip to smother her cries of pain, as he meticulously dabbed and probed at her neck with a cloth. Only once his high standards were satisfied did the elf summon a healing spell to knit the flesh back together. Pressing his fingers against her skin, a warming sensation spread outwards from the point of contact. The heat grew increasingly unbearable as the moments passed. Then, without warning, he withdrew his hand and declared that the wound would heal without scarring.
After Elissa murmured her gratitude, Otholin made his excuses and departed in the direction of the canopy. As he ducked beneath the overhang of the entrance, the silhouette of the elf became indistinguishable from the other elves who were assisting Lanaya. The taint still scratched at the base of her skull, but otherwise it offered no real insight into how her companion fared.
Following in the footsteps of the healer, Elissa also wandered over to the tent but stumbled to a stop beside the Mabari. The dog reamined near the canopy with his large head resting on his paws. His attention was focused on the entrance although he knew better than to cause a disruption by pushing his way in. As his mistress came to a halt at his side, he lifted his head and nudged at her hand with his nose, whining slightly.
Elissa gently pulled at his ear. "None of that, now," she murmured, voice breaking slightly. "Lanaya will heal him, you know that."
Large brown eyes fixed on hers, complete trust in the dog's gaze.
"You must be gentle with him, once Lanaya is done. Don't knock him or trip him up. Do you understand? We'll all need to take good care of him."
The Mabari lifted his head, encouraging her to scratch behind his ears as his tongue lolled out in agreement.
"Good boy," her voice was barely audible around the lump in her throat. "We will. We'll take good care of him. We will."
The scuff of footsteps alerted the Warden to the arrival of another. Hastily clearing her throat, Elissa turned to find Morrigan standing behind her. The Witch made no attempt to speak but only advanced a few more steps so that she stood shoulder to shoulder with the other woman. For a long while, the trio - dog, Witch, Warden - merely stood in one another's company, unsure what else to do.
An elven woman emerged from the tent, her arms full with a bundle of what appeared to be frayed scraps of linens. On seeing the two humans, the older woman balked.
"Warden, I did not think..." she began hesitantly, her gaze flitting between the two women. "That is to say..."
Even as Elissa frowned, struggling to understand why the woman was so flustered, Morrigan was quick to act. In a flurry of movement, the Witch had unburdened the elf of the bundle and turned on heel, heading in the direction of the stream. It was only then that Elissa placed what it was the elf carried: a bundle of bloodstained woollen clothes. The likes of which Alistair wore as padding beneath his armour.
She made to open her mouth, but no sound came out.
"The Keeper is doing all she can," the elven woman replied to the unasked question, turning back towards the canopy so she could rejoin the Keeper. "Patience, Warden. As difficult as it is, patience."
Patience was more than difficult. Slumped against the Mabari, Elissa watched the play of shadows which were thrown against the sides of the tent by the dim light of the lantern. Her limbs were stiff, both from weariness and cold, but the bulk of the dog warded off the worst of the night chill. On occasion, a member of the clan would stop to offer her something to eat or drink though none exchanged more than a few words. Morrigan did not return, and Athras kept his distance—though he had raised a hand in brief greeting when he passed near the Warden an hour or so before.
As the night drew on towards dawn, the small camp was quiet and still. Yet even straining her hearing, Elissa was still unable to make out much beyond muffed murmurings from within the tent. There was a pounding in her head which made it difficult to distinguish the call of the taint from the thump of her headache. Shutting her eyes, Elissa nuzzled closer against the dog. It seemed to ease the pressure in her head and she was better able to focus. The call—Alistair—was still there. Just.
Soothed by the warmth of the dog and reassured by her new found focus, Elissa was close to finding some form of peace. The telltale rustle of fabric as someone emerged from the canopy disturbed her serenity and she started up, wide-eyed and wide-awake.
With bloodied hands and dressed in gore splattered clothes, Keeper Lanaya stood in front of her. A thin sheen of sweat across the pale brow of the elven woman reflected what little light from the stars there was and emphasised the careworn lines about her eyes. Swaying a little, her gaze somewhat unfocused, she wasted no time with preamble once she ascertained that she had the attention of the human.
"He is healed and partly awake."
Elissa waited, expecting more. It was only when her body sagged against the Mabari as all her worry, tiredness, guilt hit her that she realised Lanaya had anticipated the reaction. All that had sustained her was nervous energy; now the cause for that energy had been removed, her body begged for rest. The dog turned and licked at her cheek, rousing her for whatever else the Keeper had to say.
"He is also asking for you," Lanaya continued, satisfied that Elissa was capable of following the conversation. "He does not believe us when we assure him that you are completely well. He knows you are near, although I do not understand how."
"Grey Wardens can sense one another," Elissa muttered distractedly.
"I see." The Keeper took a step closer—or perhaps stumbled slightly, it was difficult to tell. "Well, he refuses to rest properly until he has seen you. He is wasting precious energy forcing himself to remain alert. You must convince him to rest."
That was the only argument Lanaya needed to make. Climbing up onto her feet, Elissa signalled to the Mabari that he was to wait before trudging after the Keeper who was noticeably staggering now. How much effort had it required to heal Alistair? Almost too much, if the current state of Lanaya was anything to go by.
The elven woman must have summoned the very last of her energy because she managed to duck into the canopy without mishap. Darkening the entrance, Elissa briefly wondered if she should brace herself for a confrontation. Was he conscious enough to bear a grudge? Alistair would surely be furious at what had happened. He would wish to hear a justification. She had none. There was no good reason for why he had suffered as he had.
Yet as briefly as the thought entered her head, it was gone. Having evidently heard the muffled conversation between Lanaya and Elissa, Alistair had already struggled up on his elbows as he tried to get a better vew of the entrance of the tent from the improvised bed in which he lay. One of the elves—the woman who had brought out his clothes—kept a hand against his shoulder, trying to coax him into lying back down. When she caught sight of Elissa, however, the protests died on her lips and she stepped back from the man.
Alistair immediately pushed himself into a sitting position. The blankets covering him fell in a crumpled heap around his waist and the cool air against his bare skin caused him to shiver slightly. Across much of his face, neck and torso, the rosy pink of newly healed skin emphasised his otherwise ashen pallor. Tremors shook his arms from the effort of supporting his weight and his chest heaved a little as he struggled to catch his breath.
Sheer relief rid Elissa of all her inhibition. Closing the distance between them in a matter of strides, she dropped down into a crouch at his side. Different responses clamoured for her attention: she wanted to grab him in a fierce hug until he complained she squeezed too tight, she wanted to chatter incessantly until he rolled his eyes, she wanted to laugh and giggle until his own grin materialised. But what she found herself doing instead was a complete surprise. She simply leant forward until her head came to a gentle rest against his forehead. At the feel of the warmth of his skin against hers, she gave a heartfelt sigh and her eyelids fluttered shut in sheer contentment.
Alistair shifted slightly beneath her and then she felt his hand cradle the back of her head, a gentle pressure communicating that he also wanted her as close as possible. Breathing one another in, they gradually reassured themselves that their respective unspoken fears were unfounded.
It could not last though. The effort of sitting upright, let alone the effects of the cool night air, were enough to aggravate the delicate balance so newly resetablished in his body and his breathing grew more laboured. Opening her eyes, Elissa made to pull back but his fingers tangled in her hair in silent protest.
"You need to lie down," she chided, half-plea half-order. "You need to rest. Do as Lanaya says, Alistair. Please."
He cracked open an eye and for a moment, they regarded one another cross-eyed. It was enough to lighten the mood. Admitting defeat, Alistair released his grip and sank back on the bed while Elissa pulled the blanket back up over his chest.
"Are you satisfied now, Alistair?" There was a tinge of disapproval in the weak voice of the Keeper as she addressed the sickly man.
He offered a slight nod, penitence for his behaviour clearly etched across his face by way of apology to the elf.
"We will continue to monitor him through the night," Lanaya gestured to her two assistants, the woman and the novice healer, with a slight nod of her head. She held a cup between her hands, the steam from the contents rising gently and coaxing some colour back into her cheeks. "My mana is drained but I do not think he will require further magical intervention. Our skills in herbalism will suffice." She darted her gaze towards Elissa. "Thank you, Warden. I do not believe we will need your assistance again tonight. I would ask that you return to your own tent."
The young Warden thought to argue, but how could she when the Keeper looked so ravaged? There must be a fitting reason for why Lanaya wanted to separate them. Perhaps it was a greater kindness: Elissa knew that Alistair would not wish to worry her and might be tempted to hide the true extent of any further hurt. That would only hamper his recovery. Yes, it was important that Alistair was honest about the limits of his endurance and did not feel the need for bravado.
Nodding her assent to the elf, Elissa turned back to her companion. "I'll stay close," she murmured, her eyes locked on his. "You'll be able to sense me."
Alistair reached out and caught hold of her hand, squeezing weakly. She flashed him a tight smile.
"F..." his voice was thick and he had to swallow before continuing. "First thing. Come back."
He could have asked practically anything of her at that moment and she would have consented.
"Of course," Elissa promised, returning the squeeze of his hand. "You need to rest now, though. There's nothing to worry about. Just focus on resting."
He nodded slightly, his eyelids already heavy as he accepted his exhaustion. Elissa continued to hold his hand until she was certain he was asleep. Gently disentangling herself, she at last shuffled out from beneath the canopy. Morrigan was waiting alongside the Mabari.
"He is healed?" the Witch asked, typically succinct.
Elissa nodded, reaching out to scratch behind the ear of the dog. "He will be."
"Then all is as it should be," Morrigan remarked, turning abruptly as she made to walk away. "Goodnight, Warden."
For a little while longer, Elissa stood and focused on the strengthened reverberations of the taint throughout her blood, as reassuring as though Alistair was standing right beside her. Yes, she decided at last; all was at it should be.