The next couple weeks seemed to flow together. Sometimes the trail Lylimet had left behind was clear, and they could move quickly, but other times they were stopped for hours while Jandin tried to find it again. There were even a few times when they had to backtrack, and they'd spent all of one day at a small stream, where her tracks had gone in at one side but not out on the other. They'd eventually found her tracks nearly a mile downstream, but it had taken hours combing both shores to find them. The harder her tracks were to find, and the more they had to work to find them, the less they began to think they were being led into a trap. If Lylimet wanted them to follow her, why would she go to such an effort to hide where she was going? They would occasionally find a used fire pit, but only every few days, which just went to show how much more ground Lylimet was covering than they were.
Jandin seemed to be the most ill at ease, and his agitation appeared to increase daily. He was harder on himself than anyone else might be whenever he lost the trail, but at the same time, he was hesitant to continue on. "What if this is all an elaborate ruse," he said in camp one evening, after nearly two and a half weeks of tracking Lylimet through the Hinterlands. "What if she's just trying to get us lost? What if there's something bigger happening somewhere else, and we're being distracted so as not to... be there for it?"
Berton had seemed to find that amusing. "Are we lost then?"
"Well... no, not exactly," Jandin said, looking a little embarrassed. "I mean... I couldn't point out our exact location on a map, but if we head north, we'll eventually run into the Imperial Highway. But that doesn't mean there's not something nasty between us and the highway."
"There are always nasty things in the Hinterlands, and in the Wilds, which is where we'll be if she keeps going south," Jessimyn said as she sat down next to the fire. It was getting colder, and she'd finally pulled out her heavy, wool cloak to keep warm.
That particular area of Ferelden was riddled with rivers, ponds, and small lakes, and they'd camped near the banks of one of the larger lakes they'd come across. Nothing nearly so large as Lake Calenhad, of course, but large enough that they could all do some washing up, of their clothes and of themselves. If they could get over the shocking coldness of the water, of course. Jessimyn was still trying to work herself up to that. Kyran and Zevran had already returned from having a bath, and their skin glowed a bright pink from the cold. Or at least she assumed it was from the cold. With as often as Kyran blushed whenever he was around the elf, it was difficult to say with him.
Since Berton and Jandin seemed to be in no hurry to wade into the freezing water, Jessimyn grabbed her things and went down to the shore, far enough away from the group that she couldn't be seen, but close enough that they would hear her cry, should trouble arise. She decided to wash her things first, since she knew that once her hair was wet, she would want to hurry back to the fire. The number of articles of clothing she had in any sort of decent condition was dwindling. She only had three pairs of leggings left, since Berton had ripped her fourth pair beyond fixing. She had four shirts, as many chemises and nightgowns, five undertunics which she wore under her armor, and two pairs of trousers, plus socks and her other various underthings. She set aside her cleanest undertunic and pair of leggings, laid her sword at her feet, and stripped herself of the rest of her clothing. There was no threat of rain, so if she hung everything up by the fire, it would all be dry by morning, and Jessimyn hated packing dirty things if she didn't have to.
Clutching the cloak around her to keep out the chill wind, Jessimyn knelt by the bank and began washing. Her hands began going numb almost immediately, and she knew she was going to hate the bathing part, when it came to that. A large rock sat near the shore, and she began piling her clean clothing on top of it. When the last thing was washed, Jessimyn stood and took a deep breath, her hand going to the ties at the neck of the cloak. She was about to draw it from her shoulders when she heard a sound, coming from the direction opposite the camp. She drew the cloak together and whirled around. At first she saw nothing, but then the moonlight reflected off a pair of eyes, low to the ground.
Jessimyn couldn't tell for certain if it was the same wolf she'd seen before, but did it really matter? The wolf let out a low growl and took a few steps closer to her, though it was still far enough away that Jessimyn would have more than enough time to grab the sword at her feet, should it decide to charge. It let out two yips, then darted off into the dark. She stood very still, watching the direction from whence it had come, but after ten minutes, she decided it wasn't coming back. How very odd. She would have to be sure to mention it to the others when she got back to camp. Jessimyn wondered if the thing was rabid, considering how strangely it was acting. Yet another thing to look out for, it seemed.
With a sigh, she turned her attention back to the lake. She counted to three, then pushed the cloak off and dashed into the water. Going slowly would only make it hurt more, and she just wanted to get it all over with. The cold water made Jessimyn's head ache instantly, and she scrubbed soap over her body. The sound of her teeth clacking together seemed loud in the still, night air as she rubbed the soap into her hair. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself beneath the surface and quickly rinsed the soap out of her hair, but when she stood back up, she wasn't prepared for what was in front of her.
The wolf was back, standing on the shore next to her things, staring right at her. The water only came up to her waist, but while her nudity in front of the wolf didn't bother her, the fact that Jessimyn's feet were losing feeling was a little worrisome. She thought about yelling for help, but then what? Someone would come rushing down (probably Berton), the wolf would get scared away, and then... she'd be standing there naked, for all to see? No, let that be a last resort.
"Shoo," she said, feeling utterly ridiculous. "Go on." The wolf crouched down just a little and let out another low growl, showing her its teeth. "What do you want?" Jessimyn asked it, exasperated. "It's freezing in here, and I'd like to get back to my fire, so... go away."
The wolf took a few steps closer, until its paws stood right at the edge where water met shore. It cocked its head to one side, as if regarding her. Jessimyn found herself crossing her arms over her chest, as if to shield herself from view. Why did it suddenly matter? The look the animal was giving her just seemed a little too... aware. Suddenly, its tongue lolled out of its mouth, giving her a strange, wolfy grin, and then it yipped at her, grabbed up some of her clothing in its jaws, and went running away. Jessimyn came tearing out of the water, chasing after the animal for a few steps before realizing it was pointless. She also realized she was still freezing at the same moment. Luckily, the wolf had left her cloak, and she quickly pulled it around her shoulders, trying to calm the shuddering of her body.
"Andraste's tits," she muttered to herself. It hadn't gotten away with much, but of course, the beast would have to have taken the only dry pieces of clothing she'd left for herself. It also seemed to have gotten another shirt and a pair of socks. Wonderful. Cursing under her breath, Jessimyn gathered the rest of her things and trudged back to camp. When she reached the fire, the others were gathered around it, talking together and laughing.
Zevran looked up at her, a smile on his face. "Refreshing, wasn't it?"
"The wolf came back," she said, and everyone looked at her.
"The same one?" Berton asked as he stood and took a few steps closer to her. Jessimyn responded by taking a few steps back. "Are you sure?" He asked.
"Not completely, but it looked the same. And it..." She looked away, not able to meet anyone's eyes. "It stole some of my clothing." There was silence for a moment, then Berton laughed, quickly joined by Zevran and Jandin. Kyran just looked shocked. "Yes, it's very funny," Jessimyn snapped.
"Why... why would a wolf want your clothing?" Zevran asked, a grin on his face.
"Well, I don't bloody know! But... among the things it decided to take, it managed to get the only dry things I'd left out for myself." No, eye contact was not happening. Jessimyn didn't want to see anyone's expression just then.
"So then you're..." Berton began, a small smile on his face, and Jessimyn looked up to see him closing the distance between them.
"...grateful that you're offering to hang up my wet things for me? I am, thank you so much," she said as she thrust the wet clothing into his arms. Wisely, the man didn't push it and instead began hanging her things from the rope they'd strung up near the fire. Jandin and Kyran discreetly looked away, but Zevran sauntered over to her.
"If you'd like, you may borrow something of mine, until your things are dry," he said.
Jessimyn gestured to the clothes line, where the things that Berton had finished hanging for her rested next to the drying clothing belonging to Zevran and Kyran. "Most of your things are wet, too."
Zevran nodded. "Yes, but I still have a clean shirt you could use..."
Jessimyn smiled at him. "All of your shirts practically fit you like a second skin. I'm not sure they would fit..."
"Over your lovely breasts, that is true. I'm willing to let you try it, though." He grinned at her.
Before Jessimyn could respond, Berton returned and tossed a bundle to her. She barely managed to catch it and still keep the cloak closed. It was a very large shirt and a pair of bright green socks. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he chuckled.
"Don't worry, kitten," he said. "They're clean. I always hold one set of clean things back, to change into while I wash everything else."
She wanted to refuse, but that would have been foolish. She couldn't just go to bed, with her hair still wet at it was. Plus, Jessimyn was hungry, and she wouldn't be able to eat and hold the cloak closed around her. She ducked her head and muttered a thanks before darting into her tent. The shirt was huge, and it hung wide around her shoulders, only seeming to be able to stay on one shoulder at a time. At least it was long, falling down to just above her knees. The socks, on the other hand, came just up to her knees, so that only her kneecaps were bare. As she held up a foot, she couldn't help but notice how much extra room was left in the sock where her toes ended, when the heel of the sock was in the right place. Rather than wear them that way, she pulled the socks up until her toes hit the ends, and now her knees were covered as well.
She ran her comb through her hair, replaced the cloak around her shoulders, and went back out to sit next to the fire. She turned her back to it, telling herself that it was only so that her hair could dry faster, but it also had the added benefit that she didn't have to look at anyone. She heard soft laughter coming from behind her, and Jessimyn felt her face going red, from anger as much as from embarrassment. The first person who spoke to her was going to get a large bruise in a not-so-pleasant place.
"Uhh... Jessimyn?"
She looked up and sighed. Well, she wasn't going to hit Kyran, of course. Especially since he was bringing her food. "Thank you," she said softly as he handed her a bowl of some sort of stew. It was watery, with very little meat in it, but at least it was warm. She was just finishing it when another person decided to approach her.
"I'm not sure green is your color."
Now Berton she wouldn't hesitate to hurt. But he was too far away, so she settled for scowling at him. Which, of course, he took as an invitation and sat next to her. "Okay, I've seen the socks. Now let me see the shirt."
"Piss off, Berton," she said as she began to stand.
Berton gave a small tug at the corner of her cloak, but Jessimyn jerked it out of his hands as she placed a foot on his shoulder and shoved. Or at least she tried. His body barely even move, and he reached up to grab onto her calf. While he did manage to keep her from losing her balance, he also got much more of a view of her lower body than she'd ever wanted him to have. She saw his eyes widen just a little, and then he quickly released her, rolling back onto his heels so that he was a little further away from her.
The camp was suddenly quiet, and Jessimyn was too afraid to turn and look, afraid that everyone would be staring at them. She was tired of these games, and it was time to put an end to them. Apparently trying to ignore his advances just wasn't working. "We need to talk," she said through gritted teeth.
Berton rose to his feet, his normal smile gone from his face. "We are talking now."
Jessimyn shook her head. "No. In private."
With a nod of his head, Berton said, "I still need to wash my things. Follow me back to the water, and we may talk there with no worry of anyone listening in."
Jessimyn just nodded at him and waited as he went to go collect his things. Kyran and Jandin had gone back to speaking softly to each other, but Jessimyn could feel Zevran staring at her. When she met his eye, he looked angry, but she just gave him a shake of her head. Everything's fine, no need to worry, she tried to convey with that one movement.
Berton returned quickly, a full sack slung over his shoulder. He gave her the slightest nod, and then they went down to the lake together, a sizable distance between them as they walked. Without a word, he sank down next to the water and dumped his things out. As he began scrubbing his clothing, Jessimyn looked for a place to sit. The rock she'd used to put her own clothing on was still wet, so she just sat down cross-legged near Berton, careful to pull her cloak around her so that she was fully covered.
"You wanted to talk, kitten," he said, not looking at her. "So talk. Or don't. But once I'm done with these, I'm going to have a bath. You're free to watch of course, but I'd hate for the sight of me to distract you from what you have to say."
"Why must you talk to me that way? What have I done to earn your derision? Is it just because I'm a woman? I know many non-Fereldens seem to have a problem with the idea of a female Grey Warden."
Berton stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. "Derision?" The look on his face was so confused, it almost made Jessimyn laugh.
"Really? You don't see it?" The sarcasm dripped from her voice. "You never call me by my name. You mock me in front of the others. Perhaps you do not think I have earned your respect as a person, but I'd say that I've earned it as a fellow Grey Warden, and I insist that you treat me the same way you do the others. I'm tired of the pet names, the sleazy come-ons and innuendos. Whether you have any aims at forcing me into anything I don't want to do or not, I'm tired of feeling like I need to be on my guard around people who are supposed to be my brothers."
Berton dried his hands on a piece of clothing that was still dry and moved closer to her, so that he was kneeling in front of her. "I can't help that I don't feel very... brotherly towards you. I want you, kit... Jessimyn." He reached a hand out to touch her face, but she flinched back. "And more than just your body, though what I've seen of it is quite remarkable." The comment, along with his grin, made her flush a little and turn away. "No, I want all of you, and I'm not the type of man who hides how he feels. Life is too short anyway, but especially for a Grey Warden. As to that, you say you want to be treated as everyone else, but you are a woman. Not that I'm saying that hinders your abilities as a soldier, but I'd be lying if I said I could ignore that fact."
He touched her arm through the cloak, and Jessimyn flinched again. "But that doesn't mean I don't respect you. I've seen you fight. I saw you up against those darkspawn, and you impressed me. Not because you're a woman, but because you risked yourself to help another. I've seen good men, strong men, freeze in the face of less. But if you feel I do not show you respect in front of the other men, well... I will try to remedy that." He stood up and held a hand out to her.
Jessimyn hesitated before taking it, and Berton pulled her up. As she made it to her feet, he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "That doesn't mean I'll change how I act when we're alone, though," he said in that low, rumbly voice that seemed to vibrate across her skin. She couldn't help but shiver a little, and the arm around her waist tightened. "I do respect you as a Grey Warden, but I want you as a woman." He grinned at her. "So I'll save my sleazy come-ons for our private conversations."
Placing her hands on his chest, Jessimyn pushed back, and the arm around her waist fell away. "And if I don't want you in the same way? Does that even matter?"
"Of course," said Berton, suddenly serious. "It means I have to try harder."
Jessimyn shook her head. "I'm not going to change my mind about this..." she began, but he cut her off.
"Maybe not right away, but you will. I can be patient."
She bristled at that. "You have quite the ego, don't you?"
Berton laughed. "So I've been told, yes. I'd rather think of myself as confident."
"But I despise you," she said simply.
He laughed again. "No you don't, Jessimyn. You just want to."
She didn't know what to say to that, so she just shook her head and said, "Jess."
Berton raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"
"It's just Jess. No one calls me Jessimyn... besides Kyran, and I think he's just too formal to shorten my name." A thought suddenly came to her, and Jessimyn looked away.
"What is it?" Berton asked, taking a step closer to her, so they were nearly touching.
"Lylimet... she called me Jessimyn."
"So?"
Jessimyn looked up at him. "I introduced myself as Jess. How did she know my full name?"
