Chapter 41

Stretching before and after sparring was a must. At least, it helped things along. Especially with injuries. Alistair's left knee was on the mend, but he couldn't really go easy on it. So at night, before bed, Alistair made sure to treat it with heat and stretch lightly. Leliana, who'd caused the injury, helped him out. She expressly forbade him from sparring, and had taught him new and inventive ways to stretch his legs.

She currently had his left ankle on her right shoulder, her cheek covering his instep. They were both on their feet and had their hands clasped so that Alistair didn't have to hop around and risk losing balance. He'd always thought himself to be quite flexible, but Leliana's routine had truly humbled him.

No wonder she can throw so many kicks. Damn.

"That's enough," she said, sitting down on her haunches so that he could lower his foot. "How does it feel?"

Alistair shrugged. Flexed his quadriceps. "Slight pain. Nothing debilitating, you know. I'm fine."

She sat down on his bedroll and drew her knees up to her chest, watching him. "I know. Just making sure. I am going to nag you more now, just so you know. Don't tell me there was no warning."

She was smiling, and Alistair chuckled as he sat down across from her. His tent wasn't all that spacious, but it was big enough for three people to sleep in, at least. He wiped the sweat off his face with his tunic and sat down beside her, bumping her with his shoulder.

"Well, you did cause this, so I expect to be pampered."

"Oh? What happened to being fine, I wonder?"

"Just being nefarious and trying to extort affection. Nothing new, you know."

Laughing, she pecked his cheek. "You can ask for as much as you like. I have a lot of love to give."

Alistair smiled through the blush. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "That's why I don't ask."

"What do you mean?" she asked, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Alistair hummed as he considered his answer.

"I know that you want to give. And trust me, I want it. But I just feel like that'd be taking advantage, you know? Like, just because there's unlimited cheese doesn't mean I should take more than my fill."

"Oh, Alistair..."

"Hey, I know I should probably stop equating everything with cheese. I also know that it's probably dumb, but that's how I feel."

She kissed his throat lightly. He really liked that. Always filled him with warmth and set his stomach aflutter.

"You are a good man, Alistair," Leliana told him. "And I appreciate the thought. I do wish you would be a bit more demanding, though."

"Guess I just wasn't raised that way," he replied quietly and rubbed her side. "I didn't have much, and I had to make do with what little I had. Asking for more was sort of unthinkable. Went for everything, really. Food especially." He hummed. "I don't even remember actually wanting anything particularly badly while growing up. Never thought it was all right to ask for something I didn't have."

A sigh escaped him and Leliana wrapped her arms around his trunk. She didn't say anything, but snuggled closer.

"I don't think I've ever asked anyone for anything in my life, actually," Alistair said after a while. "Not in so many words. Guess I'm just used to having simple needs."

Leliana rubbed her nose along his jawline. "I understand. But you do not have to feel guilty. Think of me as cheese, if it helps."

He snorted. "Oh, that helps more than you think."

"Mhmm. I always had everything growing up, and later had the ability to take anything I wanted. Life in the Chantry was so starkly different, but I loved it there. It was all very simple. I needed to live like that, I think. Learn moderation." She was silent a while. "It has been so long since I left Lothering. When I stepped out of the cloister, I had no idea where my path would lead. I walked where the Maker led me, and He has rewarded me for my faith: I met you."

"So, what, the Maker is a divine matchmaker now?"

He felt her smile. "Something like that. The Maker wants His children to be happy. Would He have created in us the capacity for love if He had not intended us to find it?"

"Oh?" Alistair snickered. "Love?"

"Yes," breathed Leliana beside his ear. "That gloriously decadent emotion that one finds oneself so hopelessly stuck in. Much like caramel pudding."

"Mmm. Pudding. I like pudding." He looked at her. "I gather from your tone that you've found yourself stuck in caramel pudding before?"

Leliana's lips quirked into a smirk, one he found deliciously alluring, and she said, "Well, you know Orlesians and their curious entertainments." She winked at him. "Oh, I have tales of pudding you would not believe."

"Cheese and pudding? Now that's a winsome combination as far as my stomach is considered," Alistair replied with a chuckle, but his laughter died in his throat as Leliana slowly dragged a finger down his chest.

"Well then, perhaps we could retire to my tent, and I could regale you."

Alistair coughed. "I would. Believe me, I wouldn't turn down pudding stories for the world – especially if they involve you – but I have to write in my journal. I do it every night, and if I go with you, I'll probably end up skipping."

She considered this. "You could bring it with you. I could give suggestions." She cleared her throat. "'Dear diary, Leliana has shown much affection for me, even asked me to come to bed with her. Alas, subtlety is lost on me.'"

Alistair barked out a laugh. "That's about as accurate as it gets, isn't it? Damn, I'm predictable. Here I thought my dark and mysterious routine was finally going somewhere. More work for me, then."

"I'm being serious, Alistair."

That stopped him in his tracks completely. Alistair swallowed, looked at her face, and swallowed again.

"Oh." He tugged at his collar. His body, which had been cooling down, started warming up again. "You were, um, serious. About... that."

"Yes. Yes I was."

"Ah." He sat up straight, making a subtle attempt at disentangling himself from her and failing miserably. "I mean, I'm sure any guy would jump at the chance of being with you, but... I don't know if I'm ready for that." He shook his head. "It's a big step." Then he shook his head harder and buried his face in his hands. "But that just makes me sound like an idiot doesn't it?" He started rocking back and forth. "I mean, to turn down an incredible woman like you, I'd have to be!" he parted his fingers and peeked at her. "Right?"

To his relief, Leliana was smiling. She patted his back. "I think it's cute."

"Isn't that what every man wants to hear," he said, chuckling, before looking at her properly. "Look, Leliana, I don't want to offend you or anything. Far from it, really. I guess I was just raised to not take this sort of thing lightly." He sighed. "I hope that doesn't... put you off?"

"Not at all." Leliana took his face in her hands and pressed her forehead to his. "You are a good man, Alistair, and very sweet and considerate. I am glad you were honest with me. I would not want you to do something you did not want to."

"Oh, I want to." He brushed his nose along hers. "Trust me, I want to. Very badly sometimes. But it's just..."

"Too soon?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"I understand."

"Thank you."

She kissed his forehead tenderly. "You're very welcome, Alistair. I should probably leave you to your journal then, shall I?"

"I'll get to it, now that I've dealt with this situation with my usual deft brilliance." He smiled at her. "Though I guess a cold bath is in order first."

"Made you hot, did I?"

"Less you and more the pudding, if I'm being honest."

Leliana slapped his shoulder, feigning indignity. "How dare you!"

"What can I say, I'm just brave that way."

Snickering, Leliana rose to her feet. "Then greet your bed bravely, Sir Alistair." She tousled his hair. "Sweet dreams."

"Good night," Alistair responded as she left his tent. He waited a moment, and then collapsed on his bedroll face first, groaning.

"Well played, you absolute loser, you. You're going to die alone."

"On the contrary, friend Alistair, I believe you made a favourable impression on our fair bard." He looked up to see Zevran's head poking through the tent flaps, grinning ear to ear. "Women of her nature tend to find a chivalrous personality appealing. By turning her down and repealing your baser instincts, you have shown you are more interested in her than her body, a lesson I'm sure you learnt from chapter eighteen of–"

Alistair threw The Lusty Antivan Maid at his face.