Author's Note: Ah I sometimes love the chapters in between the larger parts of the adventure.
Chapter 10: Hypothetically
"So...your name is Sten?" Leliana questioned, trying to get him to talk. It had been a while since they had exited Lothering, the path that wound through the wilds past the village were indeed vaster than they had realized. The ladies had gotten out of the cart not only to allow Roland some rest, but so they could try and speak with Sten. Even Morrigan, though she didn't seem all to interested in speaking to the Qunari, had gotten out and was walking just beside Shaylar. Or maybe it was because she hadn't wanted to share the space in the cart with Roland and Bryn, Shaylar hadn't really been too sure. The only switch Alistair and Abbadon had made was who was driving.
"I believe it was Sten, warrior of the Bareseed...Seed? Sad...? Sod?" She tried to decide on exactly how it was pronounced, but it seemed that all she was earning herself was a glaring look from the Qunari. Leliana looked up to Abbadon and Alistair beifly, both noticing that Sten was growing progressively more annoyed. Though there was a difference in their looks. Alistair looked rather nervous, as if he was ready to jump to defense at any moment. Abbadon still had his eyes on the group, even if he was only looking in at certain points before calm gaze focused on the road ahead.
"Beresaad." Sten corrected finally. So he could talk after all. Alistair and Abbadon claimed to have spoken to him briefly before they left, but the man hadn't seemed all that eager to talk to the crowd of three around him. Though when he went silent again, Shaylar pursed her lips.
"Is there...some kind of sting we need to pull to get you to talk?" She asked, moving around him as if looking for said string. Leliana held out her hands in a defensive motion.
"Shaylar...maybe we should give him some space, no? He has had a bit of a rough experience." She could see Sten's brow twitching.
"Do not speak of me as if I am not standing in front of you." Alistair blinked briefly.
"I've heard that line before." He mumbled, still watching the group at the side of the wagon carefully. After a bit more of Shaylar's pestering, Sten growled.
"Parshaara!" His tone startled her into a straight walk beside Leliana, hiding at her other side.
"I think he's done talking now." She squeaked to the red head, who wore a gentle smile at Shaylar's finally understanding that the Qunari just seemed to want time to himself. After they had rescued him, he swore that his atonement for murdering the family would be helping them stop the Blight. But he hadn't counted on there being so many people. Leliana and Shaylar moved forward, meeting a pace that placed them next to Alistair and Abbadon's seat, Shaylar dropping back briefly only to pull Morrigan forward.
"Why must I always come with you?" She asked with a bit of distaste as she roughly pulled herself from Shaylar's grip. Shaylar thought about it for a moment, before nodding.
"Because you should be talking with the rest of us. I can't have you and Sten in the same group not saying a word, it's really creepy." She answered, to which Alistair mumbled.
"I like her better when she's not talking..."
"I'm sorry what t'was that?" Morrigan asked, with ever more distaste than she had carried in her voice before.
"You heard exactly what I said."
"I just wanted to see if you were stupid enough to say it again, that's all."
"I like her better when she's not-" Alistair felt a hand cover his mouth, looking back to see Abbadon was shutting him up and driving at the same time.
"You guys are really distracting me. Stop bickering so much." Shaylar raised an eyebrow at her brother. It wasn't really like him to get involved in other people's arguements. He was usually the type to keep to himself.
"Wow Abbadon, I didn't expect you too-"
"If you're going to argue do it in camp where I don't risk running this cart into a ditch."
"...Oh there's the Abbadon I expected." Indeed the surprise had not lasted that long, but that was just the way Abbadon operated, and it was something the group would need to get used to fairly quickly. Leliana decided it was a good of a time as any to beg a question.
"So, I was never told exactly where we were headed." Leliana mentioned, Abbadon now turning his attention back to the road indefinitely. Alistair turned a bit so he could be in on the conversation as well.
"Abbadon has us headed for Redcliffe. We'll have to stop for the night but if we-" There was a shout that inturrupted him, and all of a sudden everyone was on guard.
"Somebody help us!" The voice was gruff, and the group quickly drew their weapons, Sten drawing a dagger (Which Alistair had been all so thrilled) that the twins had given him for protection, until they could find him a better weapon. But he seemed uncomfortable using it. It wasn't the right weapon for him, and though they could tell they didn't have much choice in the matter. It was the only weapon they had that was a spare. Shaylar cursed the thought she had before Ostagar, of leaving her old longsword in the barracks.
Abbadon slowed the cart to a stop as Roland hopped out from the back, sword and shield drawn. Without much hesitation, Shaylar took off first, followed by Alistair and Abbadon, and eventually the rest of the group. She could sense them from the moment they entered the general area, but the stench of the Darkspawn, their grueling screeches drew closer, and soon enough, two lumps that looked like dwarves appeared in their field of view, along with a small mix of Genlocks and Hurlocks. The dwarves were cowering, and one of the two carts they possessed was ripped to shreds, forgotten on the floor.
As a Genlock ran for the bearded dwarf, it was intercepted by one of Shaylar's arrows piercing its skull. It fell with a loud thud, and the dwarf seemed to spare a moment to look up before ducking his head in fear as the rest of the monsters charged, intercepted by the quick actions of Shaylar's companions. Abbadon and Alistair hacked at any Hurlock who came too close, though Alistair seemed a bit more experienced in the matter. They had been spattered in blood, but the dwarves were still safe when the last genlock fell down.
"You and your friends...you're mighty formidable folk, aren't you? Thank you for saving me and my boy here." the dwarf's mixed look of fear and awe was replaced by a friendly smile as Abbadon moved to stand in front of him beside Shaylar. He could feel the blood trickling down his cheek, but ignored it.
"You're welcome. Are you...a merchant, perhaps?"
"Sure am! The name is Bodahn, and this is m'boy Sandal. Say hello Sandal." The boy beside him looked a bit...dense, if there was a way of wording it nicely. But his smile was large and genuine.
"Hello...!" Even his response time was a bit off, but they nodded at him politely, none the less.
"I don't suppose you'd mind if we tagged along with you for a little bit, get where we're going?" Abbadon sighed.
"Sorry but...I don't think that you want to be seen traveling with...Grey Wardens." Bodahn looked him up and down, seeming to consider it for just a moment before he nodded.
"Alright then, I suppose your path might have a bit too much excitement for us, but hopefully we'll see you again. I'll pay you back properly when we do." Abbadon didn't have the heart to tell him he had only helped because he didn't want the darkspawn blocking a clear passage. But he would keep that to himself.
Bodahn Feddic was certainly a man of promises he intended to keep. Because he had ended up trailing them anyway, and as they stopped for the night, a good way away from Lothering and the wilds that were considered a part of it, he offered to become their...personal merchant. But it was because of him that they were able to get Sten a proper sword, one which he still seemed to dislike, but he was doing better than he did with the dagger.
"No, that's still not right. You're not putting enough swing into it." Roland watched as Shaylar nicked the side of a tree with his sword that he had given her to practice with.
"I'll give you enough swing..." She mumbled in annoyance as he gently brought her arm into a better position.
"As tempting as that might be..." He began, causing her to blush slightly. "Try bringing it down with a little more force." Shaylar had asked him to try and teach him more about swords. She thought she had known about them when she lived in the castle, but now she had a need, to learn about something that she had apparently never been good at, unlike she thought. Archery was one thing. It seemed to come more naturally to her. But out in the field of battle, the sword wasn't exactly a friend, like she had hoped. She sighed softly, allowing him to position her correctly, although she didn't seemed to notice their close proximity however.
But someone in camp did. Alistair sat close to the fire while Leliana prepared dinner, giving Morrigan both a break and an excuse to find her way all the way across camp. He would attempt to look like he was minding his own business, though he'd occasionally glance at the lesson, and at all the wrong times.
"Alistair, you know you look sort of like a lost puppy." Alistair snapped his attention back to Leliana.
"I don't have a clue what you're talking about, I'm afraid." He stated calmly, though his attention still seemed shifted after another moment.
"He's merely teaching her how to use a sword."
"I could have done that."
"Then you should have insisted." Leliana said with a slight giggle. He was oddly cute when he was jealous, despite being a full grown man.
"Jealousy never befit anyone, Alistair." She mentioned as she stirred the meal within the pot. Alistair crossed his arms.
"Who said I was jealous?"
"It's written all over your face." she answered, voice still calm though it carried a hint of amusement that bothered Alistair. What did she know anyway. He leaned back slightly, feeling the log roll a bit under him. He thought about it.
"Alright. Leliana, you're a...female, right?" Leliana nearly dropped the ladle she was using in mock surprise.
"No! I wasn't aware, when did that happen?" She questioned, clearly sarcastic and forcing Alistair to stare at her flatly.
"I...that isn't what I meant! Your are a female, so I need your advice." Leliana smiled, briefly looking to Roland and Shaylar, who were currently bickering back and forth playfully about how awful her swordsmanship was, it seemed.
"Alright, shoot."
"Say...hypothetically...very, very hypothetically, I was jealous. She's known him so much longer than me. What would I do about it?" He asked, making Leliana think for a moment.
"Alistair, I don't really think love is fully based on how long you've known someone. You can just as easily misjudge a stranger as you can someone you've known your whole life, when you start to see them for who they really are." Her voice was a little uneasy, Alistair noticed, but it went away quickly.
"So the question wouldn't be which one of you she has known longer. It would be which one can root themselves the deepest into her heart...you know, hypothetically. I'd say just be yourself...maybe a little less awkward..."
"Like asking women if they're female?"
"...then again that is a dear quality. It makes you stand out."
"So you're telling me to be awkward, after telling me not to be awkward?"
"Don't be awkward, be yourself."
"But I am awkward. You know what, forget I asked. This was all...hypothetical anyway. He said, getting up to go tend to the dog. He turned back to her, pointing with purpose. "Hypothetical-Whoa!" He cried out as he tripped over one of the logs on the other side of the fire. Leliana stared at him wide eyed for a moment before smiling and going back to tending to dinner.
"Hypothetically."
"And so you'd place it in like this?" Abbadon questioned as he held the elf root carefully over the poultice he was creating under Morrigan's watchful golden gaze. She pushed his hand slightly.
"Do it from that angle. you don't want to crumble too many leaves into it all at once. It works for the lesser type, but this one requires a bit more delicacy." She explained, Abbadon nodding in understanding. Since he had learned Morrigan was a healer, it was a lot easier for him to continue learning about herbalism even when he wasn't under Andrea's guidance. Morrigan had been reluctant when he first asked, but agreed when he said it would take pressure off of her having to make the medicine all the time if he learned how to do it as well. As he continued to fix the poultice, he glanced at Morrigan. She smelled so...similar for some reason. He had smelled it for a brief moment in another instance...but he couldn't pinpoint where.
"I hope you're having a care to where you're glancing." Abbadon snapped out of it, shaking his head as he looked back into the cup that contained his poultice.
"Sorry. I wasn't looking there, I can swear that much."
"Oh? So what were you looking at."
"Actually, I was thinking. You lived in the wilds with your mother all your life, haven't you?" Morrigan looked thoughtful for a moment.
"T'is correct." She answered. "Just Flemeth and I."
"Then being around all these people must be strange isn't it?"
"About as strange as it is for Sten." Abbadon glanced to the shadowy area of camp, where Sten was sitting on his own before looking into his bowl ago.
"The guy has had a rough time, we just need to give him some space. Plus you don't seem to be doing that badly." He offered, to which she shrugged.
"I suppose I have just resigned myself to my fate, considering mother did not give me a choice in the matter." Abbadon chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment.
"But now that you're here, there is nothing to stop you from leaving."
"That is what you want me to do?" She asked suddenly, a strange amount of offense in her voice. He raised an eyebrow, but shook his head.
"No. I'm just wondering why you haven't taken it upon yourself to do so. Maybe I worded it incorrectly." He offered another apology, but she shrugged it off.
"I have nowhere to go if I leave." She mentioned.
"Ah I see. Well regardless, it's nice to have you with us."
"Truly? I am thrilled." She sounded sarcastic, but maybe Abbadon was wrong. Maybe Morrigan actually liked being with them. As he spotted Alistair trip over a log across camp, he thought at least there was never a dull moment.
"Hold still Alistair!" Shaylar insisted as she pressed a compress to the small wound that Alistair had invented on his head. He hissed in a bit of pain as she did so.
"But it hurts..." he whined, to which Shaylar chuckled. He pouted slightly at her, and she smiled back at him, continuing to dab at the wound.
"Then maybe you need to watch where you're going."
"I was."
"That sure explains how you missed a whole log." she commented. "Besides, you've had your arm crushed by a Hurlock and you didn't complain then."
"Adrenaline." He answered as she placed a bandage on the wound. She giggled a bit, pulling back when she noticed their proximity.
"Alistair, it couldn't have hurt that much."
"You denying my pain is hurting my heart." He joked, to which she chuckled again as she put the supplies back.
"Just stay seated for a while, I don't want you falling again." She ordered as she placed the pack back into the cart. When she had seen him fall, she paused in her lesson with Roland, who didn't seem very impressed with the ex-templar, but he agreed that they could pick it up later. It was hard to read Roland at times, but it was after a short conversation that he went to join Leliana by the fire.
When she walked back over to him, she dropped down next to him on the sleeping bag. They had tents, but this had been set up for anyone who may have wanted a quick nap. When they got close enough to Redcliffe, they'd set up a longer term camp, so they wouldn't have to travel and take their cart with them wherever they went and all over the town. And they'd leave some of their group at camp, in order to ensure that their things were safe.
Abbadon had chosen Shaylar, Alistair, and Morrigan to come along into Redcliffe, which placed Lelianna, Sten, and Roland, who he trusted above all back at camp. Though Roland was a little wary being left with a murderer and a sister that seemed more than capable with a Daggar, he agreed at Abbadon's assurance that things would be fine, and he was going to look after the camp. They weren't too sure if they'd be bringing the dog or if he would be staying at camp, but Abbadon had mentioned they'd figure it out later. Shaylar let out a sigh before looking up at the sky.
"Just look at all those stars..." she mentioned, staring up at the glimmering mess in the sky. Alistair grinned a bit lopsidedly.
"Yeah, Redcliffe doesn't use as many lights as most places so you can see them just as clearly from town." Shaylar bit her lip.
"So...Abbadon told me you were a bastard then?" She was nervous that Alistair might snap at her, but relieved to find that he didn't.
"...I really should have told him that I was raised by dogs. But yes, I was. Arl Eamon took good care of me, at least until the day he got married." He took a deep breath, a slight sadness draining into his voice, and Shaylar leaned against his muscular frame instinctively almost, closing her eyes.
"I'm sorry. I know you didn't like the Chantry much at all. But I'm glad that Duncan was able to get you out. He saved me, too." She mentioned, her speaking so fondly of his dear friend warming his heart a little bit. He gave her a nod, looking up at the sky himself.
"I missed the skies out here too. Denerim has too many lights."
"So did Highever. At least at the castle." Alistair was relaxed this way, content to watch the stars. He looked down at her, letting the silence take over for a moment before he spoke,
"So...I thought of a new way to try and scare Morrigan. Want to hear it?"
"Alistair...you're impossible." Shaylar answered with a laugh.
"And raised by dogs!"
