They spoke very little on the way back. Incidental things only. Watch your step. Darkspawn coming. It looks like it might rain so we should hurry.
Alistair had come out of the hut, his face drawn and slightly pale. Whatever passed between them, Kahrin was almost afraid to ask. She was sure nothing…inappropriate had happened, but Alistair kept the counsel to himself. He gripped the treaties in his hands while they trudged their way back. She hadn't known him long, but she was pretty sure that quiet was unusual.
Daveth walked unassisted, even though his leg was looking angry at the wound site despite the poultices. She offered to let him lean on her, but the suggestion seemed to aggravate him, so she let it go.
Kahrin walked silently after that, her boots soaked through and her hair sodden from the icy drizzle that pelted them. Her eyes flicked from one to the other and back again around her traveling companions — except Ser Jory, whom she was still avoiding. As much as anyone could be avoided in a group their size.
She stared at the broad back until the sun was high overhead before she hurried to catch up to his stride. "Alistair."
"Hmm?" He didn't look at her.
"What did she say to you?"
When he didn't answer, she set her jaw and trudged next to him. She lasted as long as the wall separating them from the fortification of the ruins before she stepped in front of him. The sun had just dipped into the horizon, casting athwart shadows across his face. "You haven't said anything since the swamp. What did she say?"
For just a moment, his eyes widened. He tugged at his ear and worked his jaw as if he might answer. Then he set it, the tendons in his neck straining as he narrowed his eyes. "That is need-to-know information."
Her own jaw tightened. "Fine. Keep your secrets." She rolled her eyes. "I can not wait until this joining nonsense is over so I can find someone else to talk down to me."
His chest rose and fell as he sighed. "Let's get a move on."
#
"We're going to be late." Groaning, Kahrin half-heartedly pushed against Daveth's chest, her other hand cradling the back of his head as his lips and teeth roved over her exposed neck.
"Worth it." His hands wandered down her back, cupping her rear as he pressed her against the tree. "Who knows when we'll get five spare minutes again?"
Kahrin giggled, her own fingers curled around the waist of his skirted leather. "Five whole minutes? Aren't we generous to ourselves?"
He laughed against her skin, fingers skimming up her thigh. "I only need five minutes to make you wail."
"Good thing this is a war camp, then. Lots of sounds. No one will notice."
"A woman screaming my name might stand out."
"Ass." Her eyes turned up at him as she pressed her thigh between his.
"Only if you ask really nicely."
She curled forward, giggling, laying a hand on his chest again, letting her fingertip run along a gash in his cuirass. "Tempting."
"Oh, ho. You are getting dangerous to even be around."
"You have no idea." Kahrin lifted up on her toes, purring and craning her neck for a kiss. War and death and all these damned secrets. It felt good to be close to a living, breathing, person who knew the burden she was carrying. She didn't have to hold back, didn't worry that she might slip and say too much. He didn't ask anything of her, and she was more than willing to revel in that freedom. She gasped as his fingers slid under her skirt, lifting her hips towards him.
A throat cleared.
Daveth jumped back, his hands palm-out in front of him. "It wasn't me."
"Duncan is looking for you two. We're about to get started." Alistair crossed his arms, his expression neutral. "If you're not too busy to fit us in."
Kahrin's face iced over as she smoothed her leathers back into place. "Nothing that can't wait until later."
Daveth patted her on the rump as he walked past her and she swatted him back, shooting a glare at Alistair as she did.
#
It felt like her mouth had been stuffed full of wool. Wet, freshly-shorn wool, soaked in filth and left in the darkest corner of a larder to ferment. That was putting it mildly. Kahrin tried to swallow. Her throat was too dry, and when she licked her lips to try and make saliva, she cringed at the wretched tang of blood and whatever else that had been crusted on her lips.
"You're awake."
She tried to push to sitting up, but the ground seemed to slam into her head as her arm buckled beneath her. A single cough escaped, choking up enough moisture that she swallowed finally.
"Careful. Don't sit up too fast." Alistair moved from the stump he sat on and tried to help her.
She put her hands up and choked out. "Don't. Don't touch me."
He stopped, sitting back on his heels. "Okay. You've been through an ordeal and—"
"Shut up." Kahrin clenched her eyes. The world spun, jarred to a stop, and she leaned over and retched on his boots. "An ordeal?" she spat as she wiped her mouth. "Is that what you call that? An ordeal?"
He tried to be gentle, she could see it in his face as soon as all three of him merged together. "It's going to be okay."
She looked at him soberly, her hands shaking and stomach threatening to mutiny again. "Head-butting you in the nose would be an ordeal. My boot up your ass would be an ordeal, Alistair. That? That was…"
"Horrifying and awful. I know." His expression was grim and drawn. "But you lived, for better or for worse."
Again. She gritted her teeth and managed to get to her hands and knees. "Lucky me."
"You have no idea," he said quietly.
She snorted. She very much wanted to argue that point.
"In my Joining, only one of us died, but it was… horrible."
Closing her eyes, Kahrin saw image of Daveth writhing on the ground at her feet as the darkspawn blood poisoned him violently and claimed him, adding it to the vivid memories she already had. More lives she couldn't stop to mourn. One of them, once again, a friend. Or so she'd thought.
"You might have warned me." She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.
"Can you imagine if we had? We would have more people like Ser Jory—"
Her eyes darted to him, narrowing sharply. "Speaking of Ser Jory. Was that necessary?"
Alistair's voice turned grim. "You know there is no going back once you set on this path."
She opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. She knew. She knew as well as she knew anything. "Still."
"Still. Ser Jory and Daveth died as Grey Wardens."
She snorted again, choking over bile. "For all the good it does anyone."
He sighed deeply. "At any rate, the King wants to see us. And…" His mouth turned down. "What the King wants, the King gets."
"Why does the King want to see me?"
He lifted an eyebrow at her. "You'd have to ask him. Do I look like I sit on a throne and make royal demands?"
She stared at him. Was he being glib? Now? Somehow she was not shocked. "I guess not." Pushing one more time, she tried to stand, staggering and nearly toppling over when he caught her. This time she didn't shove him away. "Thank you."
"No problem. You've been—"
"Through an ordeal. I know." She let him heft her to her feet and accepted his water skin. First she rinsed and spit, then drank until she could feel it sloshing around in her stomach. After a few deep breaths, she turned towards the King's camp.
"One more thing." He reached around his neck and unfastened a cord. He laid a pendant in her hand. "We all wear these. To remind us."
Kahrin turned her unevenly hazel eyes up at him, a frown creasing the tattoo over her eyes. When she looked down at the pendant, it shimmered eerily. It might have looked like a ruby, but when she squinted at it, it was obvious that it was filled with blood. "I don't think I'm going to forget."
There was a harrowed look to his face which suddenly made him look older than he was, and if she had to guess, he was younger than she was. "I know you won't."
