Lena sat up through the night, feeding the fire and cleaning their weapons and armor. Sleep was out of the question.
Ironically, sleeping at Zevran's side now seemed improper. She sensed the same reticence from him in the way he retreated to his tent without his trademark smirk and beckon. For weeks they'd been involved in an affair that varied in degree from flirtatious to bone-jarringly intense. But always there was a deadline approaching. Someday the Crows would come, and if they survived the encounter, they would very likely go their separate ways.
But battlefield conditions changed quickly. And since Lena was now a seasoned warrior, she should have seen it coming. Glances that were more than purely carnal, touches that spoke more of affection than lust.
Alistair and Leliana arrived before dawn, Wynne in tow. They'd travelled hard, that much was obvious. Wynne's face was wan in the firelight.
She stood to greet them, but Wynne only said "Is he..."
"No, he's sleeping." Lena said, and Leliana clapped Alistair on the shoulder in congratulations, laughing exhaustedly. Apparently, any hostility he'd previously felt for Zevran had been forgotten. That was one thing to be said of Alistair: holding a grudge was utterly outside his character.
Wynne let out a long breath, her eyes searching her face.
"You haven't slept since the fight." She said, her voice taking on a distinctly motherly tone.
Lena mumbled something about keeping watch, but Wynne wasn't having any of it.
"Go now. I'll check on Zevran. Regardless of his condition I won't have him walking for at least a day, so sleep in. Shoo!"
"Thank you, Wynne. And Alistair, and Leliana." She said sheepishly.
"Bed! Now!" Wynne snapped, and Lena retreated to her suddenly very empty tent.
The last thing she heard was Zevran, in his bed for once, muttering sleepily about strange women coming to molest him and Wynne telling him to keep a still tongue in his head while she looked at his wounds.
Then, suddenly, she heard nothing more.
-
The sun was high in the sky when Lena crawled out of her tent again. Leliana and Alistair were by the fire, eating bread and cheese and cooking sausage in the coals.
"That smells amazing." She said, brushing hair out of her face.
Alistair patted the log beside him. "You look like you've been dragged through a bush backwards." He said with mock seriousness.
"And a good morning to you, too, Alistair." She grumped.
Leliana handed her a plate.
"You look lovely, my dear. For someone who was recently awake for three days." Leliana said more diplomatically.
Alistair pulled a tin cup of coffee off the coals and handed it to her.
"Thank the Maker," she said, sipping.
Wynne appeared from the woods, a bundle of herbs in one hand.
"Good morning, Warden," she said. "My patient is doing well. He's catching up on three weeks worth of sleep at once, it seems."
"Glad to hear it. Sit and eat." Lena gestured to the log next to her. Wynne sat with a sigh, and Alistair handed her a plate.
"He'll be back to his old self in no time, I imagine."
"Good. Thank you." Lena said, slightly uncomfortable that everyone was 'reporting' to her. Was she really so transparent? Everyone had, of course, noticed that they shared a bed, but...
Then a tent-flap moved, and Zevran appeared, bleary-eyed. He put a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun.
"Madre mia," he groaned. "I haven't had a morning like this for a few years."
Leliana clapped happily.
"Zevran dear! Sit down." She said.
Zevran sat down between Alistair and Leliana, yawning. Leliana handed him a plate and Alistair thumped him on the back hard enough that he winced.
"What will you do now that the Crows are done with, Zevran?" Leliana asked with her usual directness.
"Oh, fight the archdemon, defeat the blight, save the world. The usual. After that, I was thinking of taking up sculpting." He said dryly, accepting a cup of coffee from Alistair.
Leliana laughed delicately, giving Alistair a meaningful look. Alistair groaned and reached into his pack, then flipped her a sovereign from across the fire. She caught it neatly.
"...Thank you, sir." She said, tucking it into her bag.
-
The sun was barely breaking the craggy horizon when Lena crawled out of her tent after a restless night. The air was cold and still and a layer of dew had settled on everything. She pulled on her bracers, surveying the silent trees, her eyes catching on where she'd buried the Crows in a shallow grave.
She was fastening the myriad buckles of her breastplate when Zevran appeared from out of the woods. He was carrying their waterskins, dripping from the stream. When he saw her his lips twisted into a smile.
"Good morning, Warden." He said, dropping the waterskins and kicking ash over the still-smoking fire-pit. He looked like himself again. The color had come back to his face and the ever-present sly grin had reappeared.
"I found something in my things I thought I would give you." He said, turning to his pack and rifling around for a moment. When he turned around he had something tiny between two fingers. He took her right hand in his left and dropped something into her palm.
Turning it over, she saw that it was a single gemmed earring. Emerald, maybe, bordered in gold. He stood by patiently, perhaps even nervously, as she looked at it.
"What's this?" Lena said finally, more than a little surprised at the gesture.
He nodded toward it. "From my first ever Mark. I was 15. He was an Antivan nobleman from a prominent house--wearing that earring, and not much else. A gift. Take it."
"A token of your affection?" She couldn't help but ask, smirking. To her surprise, he actually blushed. So it was possible to embarrass him.
"It's occurred to me that I haven't thanked you properly for helping me with the Crows. Or apologized for being sick all over you in my convalescence. Please, just take it."
Lena reached up and slipped it into her earlobe. She hadn't worn earrings since she was a child.
"Thank you." She said.
He gave her a tiny bow as Wynne emerged from her tent, brushing herself off.
"My pleasure." He said, looking relieved.
"Oh no," Wynne said, shaking a finger at them as she approached. "No one is allowed to concern themselves with Zevran's pleasure for at least a few days. Let the man rest, for Maker's sake."
He rolled his eyes and went back to packing up his things, leaving her to look out over the horizon again.