Chapter FORTY-SIX

A knock on the door woke them, as the stable boy was sent to let them know the coach was ready. Aria quickly donned her armour, which had been cleaned and meticulously repaired after her duel with Fenris. His had also been cleaned and repaired. Aria watched as he completed dressing by tying her red ribbon around his wrist, a soft smile gracing her lips. His eyes met hers through the fringe of his reckless silver hair and his mouth tugged up on one side. Sweet Andraste, she thought, he was devilishly handsome.

"What?" he softly asked.

"N-Nothing. Are you ready?" she asked, and a troupe of servant boys came and took their luggage.

"After you," Fenris replied with a bow.

The sky was dizzingly clear above them as they made for the stables. The stars were still out, diamonds strewn and glistening on a black felt backdrop. The air was cool, crisp, and clean and Aria took great heaving breaths of it. She went to her waiting horse, who whickered when she approached. Aria smiled and presented the horse with an apple she'd kept from breakfast. While the horse ate it, Aria mounted, waiting while the coach driver took his seat and Fenris mounted his horse.

Just as they reached the rear gate Alistair had told them to use, King Alistair and The Hero, Ysabel, were on their own mounts waiting for them. Aria and Fenris spurred their mounts forward ahead of the coach to meet them.

"We wanted to see you out," Ysabel stated as they grouped up and rode out the gate.

"Thank you," Aria courteously replied.

"Will you be going far?" Alistair asked.

"A couple weeks' worth of riding to our next location," Fenris stated.

Alistair chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me."

Aria sighed. "Orlais. We're going to Orlais. Via a circuitous route."

"Do be careful. These roads are still frought with brigands," Ysabel said then. "We'll leave you now, but do write. We would be most eager to hear of your travels."

They brought their horses to a collective halt.

"We will write," Fenris said to Alistair.

They all nodded their goodbyes and Fenris and Aria carried on ahead of the coach, a map lay partially open and bound to the front of Fenris's saddle. Aria scouted slightly ahead, enjoying the freedom of wide open road through beautiful scenery. Tall ancient trees surrounded them as they followed the Drakon River east through the mountains. Wild things existed in the shadows, curiously prowling behind the trees, among the boulders. Once upon a time, Aria might have feared those things but now... She felt like one of them. She was among kin.

Their little caravan rode on all day, with few stops for sustenance for themselves and their horses, and to give their backsides a break. Aria was definitely quite saddle sore when they rode into a very small village well into the evening. They traveled over a hundred leagues that day, and they were exceedingly tired when they booked two rooms. The coachmen said he could go no further, but had arranged for a friend of his to continue with them on their journey in the morning. The new hire met them for dinner and Fenris approved. Aria was slightly wary; but consented anyway.

He was a tall, well-built man about ten years older in appearance than Aria. He had skin that reminded her of Isabela's. He had vivid ice blue eyes that saw too much, hiding behind a head of reckless coal-black hair. He spent too much time watching her as they supped, though she said few words; reluctant to give him anything more than what was absolutely necessary. Nevertheless, the man, Jeran was his name, kept trying to engage her in conversation.

"He's trouble," Aria snarled as they locked themselves into their room.

Fenris sniggered. "Of course he is."

"Why did you agree?" Aria queried shrewdly.

He removed his chest plate and set it on the floor with a grunt. Aria realized he must be as sore as she was; he just wasn't as likely to show it. He did seem a tad grouchier than usual and the hardness in her gaze softened.

"Because the enemy you can see is easier to deal with than the one you can't," he wearily sighed, plopping gracefully onto the bed with a grimace. He leaned forward and began tugging off his greaves.

Aria plucked at the lacings that held her shoulder guards and breastplate together. "And if the enemy we can see sets up an ambush with his buddies, you know, the enemies we can't see, what then?"

"We'll just... Kill 'em all."

Aria burst with laughter at this. "You know eventually, that isn't going to work right?" She plopped down next to him and started removing her bracers and gauntlets.

"I actually think I recognize him," Fenris said after a few moments while they each removed the rest of their armour.

"You recognize him?"

"I think."

"Well, don't be so forthcoming with the details," Aria sarcastically snorted.

Fenris groaned and lay back on the bed, his hands over his face for an instant, then he flopped his arms out, spread across the bed. "He booked passage on a ship I was once on."

"And his purpose for booking passage was?" Aria pressed. She stood and carefully arranged her armour on the table so that it would be easier to don in the morning.

"Evading the law," Fenris rasped, his eyes closed.

"That narrows it down," Aria facetiously stated, letting her hair down from its many twists and pins.

"I don't know much more; at times, it's good not to ask questions."

"Hint taken," Aria testily replied. She stripped out of her dirty under armour and undergarments, then went to the wash basin to give herself a quick sponge bath. She briskly scrubbed her arms and her neck, then her chest and belly. When she went to reach and do her back, the cloth slipped from her fingers. Aria turned to grab it, but she rounded right into Fenris. He gently turned her and scrubbed her back for her before presenting her with the cloth again. "Thank you," she softly said.

"It will always be my pleasure," he replied just as softly. "I don't know much about him. I know he has the appearance of being from Rivain. I know he could've killed me once, and didn't. I also know that he is not a thief, as he could easily have robbed many coffers on the ship blind, but didn't so much as pay them any mind."

Aria nodded as she listened, her hands busily finishing cleaning her bottom half. She dried off and set to the task of brushing out her long hair. Fenris went back to the bed and lay on his belly, his head turned towards her, his arms bent under his pillow. She looked at him while she combed through her travel-roughened tresses and he returned the gaze.

"What's his interest in me?" Aria asked then.

"I don't know," Fenris simply stated.

Aria sighed and put down her comb. "Be ready for a fight."

He chuckled into his pillow. "Always."

She clambered into bed under the covers and lay on her side facing him. He turned so that he faced her. She threw her leg over his hip and he leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the lips. Aria sighed, his arms wrapped about her, and as the fire in the hearth dwindled, she fell asleep.

The next morning, they were awake before the sun. They silently got dressed and made their way to the small inn's livery to join up with their new coachman. Jeran was asleep in the driver's seat of the coach when they entered the sleeping stables. The jingling of Aria bridling her horse woke him and he quickly hitched up their four horse team. Within the half hour, they were back on the road headed southwest, away from the Imperial Highway. Fenris was navigating with his maps, and Aria just numbly followed along, humming to herself.

They stopped after a few hours to water the horses and break fast themselves. Aria was all too happy to get off the horse. She contemplated tethering her mount to the coach so she could take a break from riding. Not being used to it, her hips, lower back, and thighs were terribly stiff and her tailbone was bruised, she was certain. By the time they finished eating their dried fruits and wafers, Aria was still undecided. She stood next to the horse for a few moments, stroking the little bay mare's nose and still humming softly.

"Does that song have words?" Jeran asked as he vaulted himself into the coach driver's seat.

Aria turned to face him for a second, then turned back to the horse. He'd made up her mind for her; she was going to continue riding. Just so she could stay away from him. Everything about this man had her defenses singing. Every move he made had her guard up.

Fenris rode up next to her a couple hours later. "What's wrong?"

"Hmm?" Aria asked. "Why?"

"You're acting like you're expecting trouble. I see no immediate cause for worry. Relax."

Aria "hmmphed" in response and spurred her horse a little faster. He let her go ahead of him a piece, shaking his head. When they stopped to water and feed the horses again, Aria took a few moments to get up the nerve to dismount. It felt as though her lower belly, lower back, hips, and the backs of her thight were on fire and stiffer than the drinks Varric poured.

She quickly dismounted, hissing and burying her face against the saddle as her feet touched the ground. She was chafed and sore in places she didn't even know she had, as cliché as it sounded in her own head. She swatted Fenris's hands away when he tried to turn her but eventually she relented and rigidly turned to him.

"We're riding in the coach after this," he whispered, then helped her over to the makeshift dining room he and Jeran had set up.

Fenris and Jeran chatted about the lay of the land while they ate. Aria hurt too much to contribute anything to the conversation. She just focused on chewing and swallowing—anything to keep from thinking about the pain.

"I have some medicine that would...make your trip more comfortable, m'lady. It's not a health potion, but it's strong enough to take away the pain completely," Jeran spoke, drawing Aria's attention from dwelling in her head.

"I don't think-" Aria started, but then Fenris's pleading expression changed her mind. "Ok, but the minimum dosage."

Jeran nodded and swiftly stood. He turned on his heel and jogged back to the coach. Fenris scooted closer to her.

"Are you alright?" he quietly asked, keeping a wary eye on Jeran.

"I'm fine. I'm just...sore. Aren't you sore?"

"I'm a little uncomfortable, but when I stretch my legs a bit and get a little reprieve, I'm fine. You haven't ridden much, I take it."

"I have...it's just been...many, many years," Aria replied, gasping between words as she stretched her legs. "I feel so weak and I hate it. He'll think we're vulnerable."

"He'll think you're vulnerable. But he'll have to deal with me. Drink a healing potion. You'll feel better."

"No. We need to save those. I'll be okay. Just gotta...toughen up."

He looked dubiously at her but helped her to her feet. "She's going to ride in the coach for a while," he said as Jeran returned to them with a a bottle of medicine...and a syringe. Aria's eyes widened and she balked from him. The action caused her so much pain that she nearly fainted. Fenris caught her and steadied her.

"Forget the medicine," Fenris snarled at Jeran. "Bring me two health vials and a stamina."

Jeran solemnly nodded and ran back to the coach. Aria felt as though her back was broken, just above her tail bone. Her legs cramped terribly. The pain was sharp and constant enough that it stole her breath, which came in swift, shallow gasps.

"This is not from riding," Fenris hissed, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her quickly to the carriage.

Jeran whipped open the door and jumped in behind Fenris. He handed the elf the vials of health potion. Fenris hastily tipped the first vial to Aria's lips. It's cool, sweet taste slammed relief into her, but her abdomen, hips, and thighs still felt as though they were on fire. She sucked down the second vial without hesitation and laid back in Fenris's arms, suddenly completely exhausted. Lifting her eyelids was an exercise in futility. Jeran gave Fenris the needle and he swiftly jammed it into her thigh before she could protest. He thumbed the plunger all the way down, then swiftly removed it. Fenris then tipped the stamina vial to her lips and she drank it slowly, her wits and muscles responding again.

Aria sat up after a few moments and put her head between her knees. She felt as though she'd just fought the Arishok all over again, but without the actual pain. It just registered as...a sickly sort of pressure in her abdomen and back now. She wiped the sweat off her palms on her thighs, then shakily stood. "Okay. I'm better. Let's go."

Fenris moved to stop her but she shrugged him off. She quickly mounted her horse, ignoring the queasiness that washed over her for a split second at the sudden action. Fenris worriedly glared at her from his mount, but they continued on nevertheless.

After a few more hours of riding, they broke to eat a quick meal and hoped to reach the next village sometime just after nightfall. They'd just crossed over into the Bannorn, the breadbasket of Ferelden. The sun was setting ahead of them, turning the vast prairie laid into a sea of fiery gold. Aria refused most of the food they handed her, only consuming some wafers and some water. She wasn't at all hungry. All she wanted was to lay down in a reasonably soft bed and sleep for a day.

They rested for just under an hour before starting in on their journey again. Aria found solace from the returning pain in staring up at the stars as they appeared in the falling shroud of night. Several shooting stars arced across the sky, drawing a smile unbidden from her lips each time. Fenris rode silently next to her, also enjoying the stars.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of riding into the night, the lights from a distant village came into view. Eager to be done riding, Aria spurred her little bay mare into a loping slow canter. Fenris swore in Tevene and followed after her. Jeran snapped the coach horses into a brisker gait as well, and Aria heard him curse in her language.

They reached the village a couple hours later. It was quiet, and they were the only ones in the inn. The innkeep was extremely accommodating. They were served hot, rich stew and delicious bread. But Aria couldn't eat much of it. She was struggling just to stay awake and not drown in the soup.

Aria went up to their room and went to the lavatory, telling Fenris to finish his meal. She started to strip but when she got to her pants, she was mortified. Her padded breeches had absorbed most of it, but as she peeled them down, her thighs were stained red. She gasped and sat looking at them. She quickly counted in her head when her last moon time was. She was two months late. She counted again—same result.

She fought the bile that rose in her throat, sheer panic setting in. Then, she hastily finished cleaning herself up and threw her breeches in the trash hopper chute. She frantically searched her toiletry satchel for the feminine cloths she'd packed just for such an occasion. She placed one in her panties before tugging them on, then scurried into bed. She lay on her side, her back to the door, her eyes seeing nothing.

Aria was no stranger to the pains of being a woman. But she'd never missed a period since the early days of adolescence, when it first started. She'd been regular at least twenty years. Aria's moon time had started a couple years earlier than most of the other girls in Lothering and it had been a curse of sorts. Tears sprang to her eyes as realization of what may have happened burst from the shackles she'd kept on her thoughts since the second she'd seen the blood. It was different this time.

She jumped slightly when the door opened. Fenris locked it behind him and noiselessly strode in. She could only tell what he was doing by the shadow cast on the wall in front of her from the torch in the sconce by the door. He sighed and she watched his shadow move as he removed his implements. After a few moments, he slipped under the covers behind her and his lips found her shoulder.

"Are you awake?" his deep voice rasped softly near her ear.

"Sort of," she replied, sniffing involuntarily. She winced in the sniffle's wake.

"What's wrong?" Fenris anxiously asked, gently turning her to lie on her back. "You are in pain."

"I will...be fine. It's nothing."

Fenris looked sharply at her and smoothed the back of his hand across her cheek. "It is not nothing."

"I just...this is awkward and not something we've ever really discussed," Aria hedged, shrugging away from his tender gesture, only to catch his hand before he could be hurt by her denial. She brought it to her lips and kissed his fingertips, then twined their fingers together and rested them on her chest.

"What's wrong?" he quietly asked again.

"It's just... That time. You know. The one that women have each month?" Aria stated, eyes downcast.

"Oh. Oh!" he stated, then chuckled. "Is that all?"

Guilt lanced through Aria's breast as she said, "Yes. I should be back to 100 percent in a couple days."

"Then, coach while you recover?" he asked, though it was more a command.

"Of course."

He blew out the lamp next to the table and pulled her into his arms, so that her head rested on his chest. He stroked her hair, pulling at the knots that had formed from friction with the pillow. She fought the tears that welled in her eyes. She wasn't going to tell him, she decided. She couldn't. He seemed so happy this past week, with no fights, no responsibilities. She didn't want to ruin that for him. She didn't even know if her assumption, her fear, was correct. What did she know about it? She made the mental note to ask Anders about...the subject when she returned home. If she ever returned, that is.