"Why are we stopping to rest here? The map shows a valley that is a much more defensible location."
"Because the valley is thirty miles away and we've been walking for fourteen hours."
"If the Archdemon is not in Denerim then it is foolish to waste our time going there."
"We need to get supplies and news in Denerim."
"Why does the other warden not lead? He is your senior."
"He doesn't want to lead."
Sten had been pushing a little more every day. Lyria could sense it and so could everyone else. She observed how the others had started treating the Qunari as though he didn't exist except when they had to fight. And she was hearing more whispered grumbles about him when they thought he couldn't hear. She knew that the giant didn't care, but the less the others saw him as a member of the team, the less one of their most powerful warriors could depend on them. This needed to be dealt with and quickly.
Her opportunity came when the group had stopped early after Alistair had spied a bad storm in the distance. It was getting colder and the Ferelden winters were particularly harsh, so they had found a spot near some rocks that provided protection from the winds and had enough game to keep them fed if they needed to stay and wait it out. Sten was obviously displeased but had stepped away to set up his tent. Lyria quietly followed him.
She planted her boot on the corner of his tent, stopping him from pulling it loose and attaching it to the poles. Sten glared at her, waiting for her to move her foot. Lyria glared back and held her ground.
"You are preventing me from building my tent," the Qunari stated in that deep calm voice of his.
"You are preventing me from leading these people properly," Lyria replied, trying to keep her own voice calm and level.
Sten rose, looming over the dwarf like the giant that he was. Still, the ogre was even taller and she had helped kill it not too long ago. He said nothing and simply glowered down at her.
Lyria held her ground and glared right back up at him. "I'm not a fool, Sten," she said curtly. "You disapprove of me and my role as leader. I'd like to know why."
"It doesn't matter." Sten replied.
The dwarves are referred to quite often as the 'stout folk'. Not the short folk, or the little folk, or whatever else the surface people can think of to call them. This is because the philosophy of being like the stone carries itself into a physical discipline as well. When one lives in an environment where everything is heavy and unyielding, you learn to become strong and resilient. If you did call a dwarf one of the 'short folk' and they happened to overhear you, more than likely you would be calling them 'stout' once you located your teeth.
Still, Lyria was surprised that Sten only staggered back a little when she slammed her fist into his stomach with everything she had. Although his expression was rewarding to say the least. He'd no doubt expected her to talk his ear off, not haul off and punch him.
She stood there, tense and ready to move should a return swing come. The Qunari was obviously stronger than her, but she knew she could dodge him easily enough as long as he didn't surprise her. Sten's hands curled into tight fists as the two figures glared at one another. Lyria had heard the camp go completely silent and knew all eyes were on them now.
The silence seemed to last for ages. Lyria could feel the chill air across her adrenaline heated skin and the creaking noises of the windblown trees around her.
Finally the Qunari spoke. "You're a woman," he said plainly.
"Yes, I am," Lyria answered.
"And you are a warrior."
"Yes."
Sten's eyes narrowed into tight slits. "You cannot be both."
"Is this how the Qun dictates?" Lyria refused to relax. She had been thrown down more times than she cared to count by Gorim during their practice duels by him tricking her to relax and think the fight was over.
"Yes. Women are farmers and priests and shopkeepers. They do not fight."
Lyria's voice lowered. "How fortunate the Qunari must be that their numbers are great enough that they can afford to deny half their own the duty of defending their people and lands."
Sten's fingers twitched. He must be at least considering striking her even if he was showing no sign of actually going through with it. "That does not change the truth."
"So I cannot be a woman and a warrior to your eyes? Only one or the other?"
"Yes."
She relaxed a fraction. "Then stop seeing me as a woman," she answered. "If I can be only one or the other, then I'll choose to be a warrior."
Sten stiffened a little and Lyria tightened her pose once more, leaving it unspoken that if he wished to challenge her on that, she'd gladly hit him again.
Finally he dropped his hands to his sides and dipped his head. "As you say, Warden," he replied.
Lyria lifted her foot from the scrap of tent and turned away, moving to finish her own tent before the night grew too cold.