Alistair would never admit it out loud, but the werewolves unnerved him more than even the darkspawn did.
Darkspawn were easy to strike down; they were purely monsters. Souless and evil, Alistair never felt guilt when killing them. But the werewolves had once been human, and if the rumors were to be believed, could possibly return to their former selves. They were men and women who still held emotions and memories, but were ferocious and terrifying creatures. They were deeply insightful but cryptic, and Alistair could simply not wait until he could engage in a battle that didn't confuse him so.
It also did not help that they carried their own type of poison. If bitten, any of them could turn into these creatures as well. Alistair had to admit that they had been extremely lucky thus far with the others facing the darkspawn. Aedan and Alistair were the only ones immune to the taint, though that had never stopped any of the others from charging into battle with the darkspawn.
Alistair began to realize how unprotected they truly were. He, Aedan, and Sten were the only ones in full plate (armor that actually fit had been a gift from Murdoch to Sten to thank him), the others wore leathers or robes; material that could certainly not withstand the great fangs of the werewolves. The three of them surrounded the others, offering what protection they could.
They were making their way through the forest when shrubs began rustling beside them. Alistair shared a wary look with Aedan as they stepped in front of the others, and he saw Elissa notch an arrow. They all drew their weapons, readying for an attack. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as Wynne and Morrigan shifted the energy around them for whatever spell they were preparing. But it was seemingly all for naught. The rustling stopped, and though they waited at the ready for several moments, no further movements were made.
Aedan relaxed his sword and shield and shot a relieved smile at Alistair, when a beast suddenly jumped through the bushes and tackled him to the ground. A fireball from Morrigan knocked the creature off of him almost immediately, and he jumped back to his feet, thankfully unharmed.
Several more werewolves made their appearance, slowly circling the group. A low-hanging branch blocked part of Alistair's line of vision when an idea struck him. "Elissa, Zevran!" he called. "Climb up into the branches and shoot from there. You'll have a better vantage point, and you'll be out of harm's way. We'll stay down here and protect the others."
Elissa nodded as Zevran moved to lift her up to the branch. She scurried up and dropped an arm down to help raise Zevran. Alistair slammed his shield into a werewolf that lunged at Zevran, and felt a pang of remorse when he stabbed his blade through its heart.
Arrows and bolts began to rain down on the wolves, and Wynne and Morrigan's magic seemed to almost frighten them. Leliana stayed low to the ground, ducking out from under their legs and slashing at the flanks of the beasts. The creatures' numbers were lessening, and Alistair was thinking that they had just about won when he heard a petrifying roar behind him. He turned to see a werewolf flying through the air at him. He tensed, preparing for the blow, but it never came. Instead, he heard a sickening crunch and a desperate howl.
He opened his eyes to see Elissa on the ground struggling with the beast. A gash ran from her cheek across her chin and down her neck. She struggled to grip her blade, but her hand seemed unable to properly close around its hilt. Instead, she slammed a half-open fist into to the jaw of the wolf, and Alistair was startled to see her hand came back bloody. The monster pushed her off of it and pinned her to the ground, snarling in her face. Elissa kicked her legs out as hard as she could, trying to push it off of her, and though it stumbled, it continued to hold her shoulders down.
Alistair suddenly reacted, lunging forward and running it through with his sword. He bashed it with his shield for good measure, making sure it fell far away from his love. The werewolf gave a great whine, then took its final breath.
He knelt down beside Elissa. Her left arm was bent at an unnatural angle and the leather guarding her ribs and stomach were torn to shreds. What concerned him most, however, was her bloody right hand. If she had been bitten...
"Wynne!" Alistair bellowed, realizing the fighting had ceased. The healer made her way over to his side as fast as she could, kneeling to the ground. Alistair felt the air around him shift once again as a blue light emitted from Wynne's hands, and he watched in fascination as some of Elissa's worst wounds knit themselves. He grasped her injured hand and held it to Wynne. "She m-might have been... the werewolves teeth..." he stuttered, failing to put together a coherent sentence. Wynne's face dropped as she gently took Elissa's hand, examining the wound.
Aedan fell to the ground beside Alistair, staring at his sister. She was unconscious, and neither man ever felt so helpless. The others congregated around them, watching as Wynne performed her magic.
After what seemed like an eternity, Wynne fell back on her heels. "I've done all I can for now," she said, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. "I dare not move her too much more. We should set up camp here, if we can. She needs rest and someone to watch over her."
"Was she...?" Alistair began, unable to finish.
Wynne looked him straight in the eye. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "There's no way for me to tell right now; we need more time. If she is..."
"She's not," Aedan curtly replied. "She's too pigheaded to succumb to such a thing. She's too stubborn to just allow this to happen to her; she always gets the final say. And she's too strong... she won't..." A tear fell from his cheek onto Elissa's forehead. Alistair held his breath in the hopes that it would magically awaken her, but to no avail. Wynne did not bother to disagree, but she offered no words of comfort either.
Silently, the others began preparations to make camp. Wynne stepped away to freshen up by a stream, hoping to calm her mind and regain some of her powers. Leliana brought over a bowl of water and a cloth to wash the dried blood from Elissa's mostly healed skin, but Alistair gingerly took it from her. Leliana nodded and stepped away, understanding that the two men needed time.
Alistair and Aedan looked down at the woman who meant so much to each of them, and prayed to the Maker that she would recover.
It took several more hours, but the Maker heard Alistair's prayers: Elissa awoke, still human and unchanged.
She was still extremely weak from the blood loss, and Wynne stayed by her side supporting her recovery. Both Aedan and Alistair only left her side when Leliana all but kicked them out of the tent so that she could properly help Elissa bathe, promising to allow them back in as soon as Elissa was decent once more.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Elissa began to stir. Aedan and Wynne each hurried to her side, leaving Alistair standing room only by the tent flap. They waited with bated breath as she moved and moaned, hoping that wasn't about to turn. But her slow opening eyes were clear, and she smiled weakly at those that surrounded her.
"Well," she began, her voice hoarse and soft. "I don't remember falling asleep in a tent."
Aedan chuckled with relief, knowing that if his sister was joking, she would be fine. "How do you feel?" Wynne asked, concern still etched across her face.
Elissa tried to stretch and only groaned with pain. "Like I got tackled by a werewolf."
"You're the one that did that tackling, sister," Aedan laughed, pushing his overgrown hair from his face. "Actually, it was more like you fell from the tree and happened to land on the beast."
"I did that on purpose," she muttered, closing her eyes and pouting. But the slight twitch of her lips gave her away, and she chuckled at herself.
They continued to talk as Wynne cast some final healing spells. As relieved as Alistair was, he suddenly felt an overwhelming anger at her. She stupidly put herself in harms way when he could have defended himself. She almost died...
Elissa glanced at him and smiled, but he found he could not return it. When the conversation paused, she turned to her brother and Wynne. "Do you mind giving us a moment?" she asked. Aedan hesitated, clearly not wanting to leave his sister's side. "Aedan, go bathe." she ordered, her eyes teasing. He glared at her, and she did her best to shrug. "What? You stink and you're still covered in blood. I'm not going to get any better with a stinky brother."
"You haven't called me 'stinky brother' since we were twelve."
"You haven't stunk this badly since we were twelve," she countered. Aedan laughed and stood to leave, satisfied with her condition. He gave a good, hard stare at Alistair as he and Wynne left.
The others knew of their blossoming relationship; it was difficult not to, with the lack of privacy in their camp. Since he and Elissa admitted their feelings to each other, Aedan had taken to avoiding the two of them, unsure of what to do. He had confided in Alistair long ago that Elissa had many suitors in Highever, but none of them pleased her. Now that Elissa had found a man to give her heart to, Alistair supposed Aedan just didn't know how to react around them.
It certainly didn't help that they spent all day, everyday, with everyone.
Alistair and Elissa were finally left alone. She smiled meekly at him again, and again he didn't return it. "Hi," she whispered.
"What in Andraste's arse were you thinking?" he cried, finally finding his voice.
She raised her eyebrows, surprised by his sudden outburst. "'Andraste's arse?' That's a new one."
"Don't... don't you try to joke! Are you seriously finding this funny right now?" he fumed. Her eyes widened; she wasn't expecting him to be angry. "Elissa, what were you thinking?! You were nearly killed! And for what? You stopped a werewolf from biting my heavy plate? The worse it would have done was dented it! And yet you decide it's a great idea to throw yourself from a tree, to try to stop it? You're armor is nothing but leather! Those jaws are made to tear through that material. You're lucky you didn't get yourself killed!"
Her eyes narrowed, returning his anger. "That thing was going for your jugular, right for your weak spot! It would have ripped your throat out before you even realized it hit you!"
"So you decide to try and get yourself killed instead?" He cursed himself; he knew she was right. But that didn't make what she did all right. She was still extremely injured and was nearly bitten. Alistair could hardly think of what he would do if she had been killed, but he didn't even dare consider the thought of one of them having to kill her before she turned.
Elissa gave him a steely glare. It was unfamiliar for him; he had never been on the receiving end of her glare before. He shifted uncomfortably but did his best to maintain his stance.
"I think you should go," she whispered, her voice carefully controlled. "Please send Leliana in." He didn't want to leave her. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came to mind. Her eyes narrowed further. "Just go, Alistair." Her cold tone of voice stung him more than any steel could, but he pushed his way out of the tent. As he sat alone in the privacy of his own tent, he realized the impact of his mistake.
He had never felt so alone.
The following day they camped so that Elissa could recover fully. Alistair kept himself busy, patrolling with Sten or aiding Wynne with her potions, all to avoid Elissa. She rarely came out of her tent that day, following Wynne's strict guidelines. Still, whenever Leliana left to help her move around a bit, Alistair made himself absent.
He knew he was being stupid. He had no reason to avoid her other than feeling shameful about his reaction. He was beyond relieved that she was recovering well, but he had been scared, so scared, that she wouldn't pull through. He reacted poorly, and he wanted to apologize to her.
The problem was that he had no idea how.
The spat between the two of them clearly caused tension within the rest of the group. Elissa was able to eat with them by the fire at suppertime, and she coolly turned her back on him, ignoring him completely. They others sat around them, acting as though nothing were wrong as they engaged in light-hearted conversations. When they thought no one was looking, they would throw sorrowful glances towards the two of them.
Alistair made his way into his tent that night without saying goodnight to anyone. As he lay on his bedroll, he tried to come up with a way to express how sorry he was to Elissa. Try as he might, nothing came to mind, and sleep eventually took him.
His dreams were unpleasant, to say the least.
The horde was on the move again. Their group had spent so much time fighting other battles that Alistair nearly forgot that the darkspawn and the archdemon were the true enemies they needed to face.
He knew it was a dream, but the archdemon was singing to him, and he wanted to follow the song. He struggled, trying to pull himself out of unconsciousness, but the horde pulled him along. He fought fiercely, but forgot quickly what exactly he was fighting for...
Somewhere in the distance, he heard a voice calling his name. He tried to go towards that voice, but the song held him back. The voice became louder, but so did the song, and Alistair felt overwhelmed...
"Alistair!"
He sat up, shivering, though he was drenched in sweat. Hands that had been holding his head fell away from him as he wiped his face. Elissa was there, beside him, and he watched her fall back onto her heels, sighing in relief.
She brought her hand back up, cupping his face gently and turning his head to look at her. Just like it always did, her mere presence relaxed him. Without thinking, he leaned forward further and wrapped his arms around her, pulling him tightly against him. He sighed into her hair and her arms wrapped around his middle, her head snuggling into the nook of his neck.
As his breathing slowed and his heart rate calmed, he remembered that Elissa was mad at him and they hadn't spoken all day. He gently pulled away, wanting to see her, but Elissa softly placed her lips on his forehead and kissed him. Relief spread through him; as mad as they both had been, it didn't matter now, not when he needed her.
"Darkspawn?" she asked, her face full of concern.
He nodded, still shaking. "They're on the move again," he answered.
She rubbed his head with one hand and grasped his with her other. She leaned in again and kissed him, gently rubbing his nose with hers. "You're okay now, it was just a dream. You're still safe, in the middle of nowhere. You're still with us."
Alistair pulled her close again, savoring the warmth she provided. Her fingers traced patterns on his back, making him shiver, but for much pleasanter reasons. "Stay with me," he muttered into her neck. He hadn't meant to ask her, hadn't even thought about having her stay with him, but now that the question was in the air, he desperately did not want her to leave him.
Her eyes were wide with surprise, but she nodded. "Okay," she whispered, pulling away from him. He kissed her once more, slowly and gently, losing himself in her. The fact that he was just awoken from a horrid nightmare, the fact that they were camping in a werewolf infested forest, the fact that their companions were close by; none of it mattered, as long as she was there.
She pulled away and started unfastening the buckles of her armor, and Alistair suddenly felt his face flush. "No," he quietly urged, grabbing her wrist. "I... I meant... I didn't mean..."
"I know," she whispered, gently extracting her arm from his grip. "I'm not sleeping in my armor. I still have my shirt on underneath." He watched her in the dim light and she fiddled with her armor. When she reached for a strap in the back, she winced. "Help me with this buckle?" she asked, turning her back to him.
There was something strangely intimate about helping her out of her armor now. There had been more than one occasion that they had needed each other's help, but they had always been outside and in front of the others. But now, he was helping her undress so that she might lay more comfortably next to him for the night.
He unfastened the last buckle and pushed the leather apart, letting fall from her body. Her plain cotton shift covered her back, but the bandages that still covered her wounds were visible. He gently ran his hands over them, then up her back to rub her shoulders. "Why were you wearing your gear, anyway?"
"I don't like being without it during the day if I can help it," she answered, letting her head fall forward as he massaged her upper back. "I was sick of being in that tent all day, so I decided to sit with Leliana while she was on first watch. She was just waking Zevran up for second when I heard you." A small moan fell from her lips as he continued to work her shoulders, relishing in the relief she felt.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, kissing her cheek. "I'm sorry I was a prat," he whispered. She chuckled and grasped his hands. "You just terrified me. When you fell... and then I thought you were bitten... I just..." he sighed, not sure how to continue. He kissed her bare shoulder and felt her shiver. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he admitted, hugging her close.
She turned in his arms and looked at him. "I don't know what I'd do without you, either," she murmured. "When I saw that thing going for you, and you had your back turned... I just acted without thinking." She sighed and looked into his eyes. "Remember when you gave me your rose, I asked you if you thought that I was a delicate flower that needed protecting?" she asked. He nodded, remembering that night well. "You said you knew me better than that. Alistair, I will always have your back, and I know you will always have mine. But you have to remember that I'm not that delicate flower. I'm in this with you, with my brother, with all of us. I know what I did was dangerous, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat because it meant saving you."
As they lay on his bedroll, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and she snuggled into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and smiled as her hand found his. Alistair had no idea what he ever did to deserve her, but he thanked the Maker that Elissa was in his life.
A/N: So originally I forgot about the Dalish and the werewolves... I finished writing chapter 10 and went straight into the beginning of chapter 12. I looked back at my outline and, whoops, forgot about this chapter. Despite it not being what I had in mind originally, I'm happy with the way it turned out overall. It was fun writing sibling banter, Alistair being an idiot, Alistair being sorry for being an idiot, and of course, snuggle time :)
