CHAPTER 13: Apples or Oranges?

Zevran stifled a yawn as the Arl discussed his plans for the group. His grey hair was neatly braided back and a great beard decorated big, stern features. Eamon was not a man Zevran would contend with. From what he had heard from the others, the Arl had been ill and weak for a long time. But the authoritative noble in the chair was anything but. Still, there was no denying the hollows under his cheekbones or the loose fit of his clothes.

"Our chance lies with targeting his allies- and though this is no small feat, it will only be a matter of time before some will realize what is going on. When they discover that he is no longer the 'hero' he depicts himself to be, our voices in the Landsmeet will be heard."

"Will that be enough?" asked Kallian sceptically.

"No. But the claims will give his allies pause. We need to combine it with a challenge he cannot ignore- to do this, we need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than his daughter."

"Are you referring to Alistair, brother?" asked the Bann.

Everyone stared in shock at the Warden. Everyone, that is, except Kallian.

Well, this is an interesting turn of events, thought the assassin, leaning back in his chair. And it seems only she knew about this.

He observed the two Wardens curiously.

"You cannot be speaking of this Alistair, surely?" said the witch incredulously.

"I am indeed," said the Arl, eliciting a choking noise from Morrigan. "I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative. But the unthinkable has occurred."

"So you're going to put him on the throne?" asked Kallian.

"Yes. Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem like opportunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."

Alistair raised a hand in the air. "Uh, well what about me? Does anyone care what I think?"

The Arl leaned forward in his chair, lacing long fingers together. He turned his steel blue eyes on the Warden. "You have a responsibility, Alistair. If you do not use this opportunity, Loghain wins and I would have to support him. Is that what you want?"

Alistair didn't have the courage to withstand that glare. "B-but… my lord-"

"I see only one way to proceed," the Arl cut across him. "I will call for a Landsmeet- and there, Ferelden can decide who will rule, one way or another. What say you?" he asked, fixing his gaze on Kallian.

Zevran's initial thought was right- this man left no room to manoeuvre.

Their leader paused, glancing at Alistair. The other Warden shook his head, mouthing "no". But the elf sighed and nodded.

"I guess... we have no choice."

Alistair groaned.

"Very well. I will send out the word," said the Arl, rising. "Then our talk here is done. Champions of Redcliffe, make yourselves comfortable. And if there is anything you require, you need only ask."

The man swept out of the room and left the heroes at the round table.

"Well, at least we now have a solid plan," said Wynne, breaking the silence.

"I still can't believe you are the heir to the throne," said the chantry sister, shaking her head.

"Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am," commented the witch.

Alistair grimaced. "This is not how I planned to… no, actually, I didn't plan to reveal it at all."

Zevran propped his legs up on the table, crossing them. "Ah, but you told our lovely leader here, did you not?"

"I-I wasn't going to, but…"

Kallian came to his rescue. "We were just having a conversation the other day and it… came up. He didn't want word to get out."

"It didn't mean anything to me, really. Until now… I suppose we can use it against Loghain," he said unhappily.

Wynne nodded. "I am sorry that you must do this so unwillingly, Alistair. But perhaps, in time, you will learn to embrace it. After all, many would leap at the chance to become king."

"But I don't want this, I don't want to be king," whined the Warden. Morrigan eyed him with unconcealed disdain.

"I know this is difficult... but think about the Blight. There are so many more unpleasant things to trade for victory," said the old mage.

Alistair paused and kept sighing for a while before giving up. "Yes…you're right. I guess I am being a bit childish."

"Well done for recognizing it," mocked the witch.

The Warden didn't even glare at her as he stood up. "I… I'm just going to think on this for a bit."

"If that is what will help you," said Wynne, patting his arm.

Everyone else followed him out, scraping the chairs back. As they did, Zevran's eyes fell on the pair in front.

Hmm...

While he had suspected the two not long after he had been recruited, he had never had enough evidence to confirm it. But ever since the Temple, things had gotten a little more... obvious.

It took a practised eye to see what he saw now but he was confident his discernment was still razor sharp.

Kallian and Leliana were walking ahead, talking in low voices. They were unaware of it themselves but there was almost certainly something palpable between them. The bard- oh, he knew of this fact long ago- had been a master seductress, by his observations. He was curious to know what brought a former Orlesian spy so far to Ferelden. If not for Kallian, he would have asked all the questions already.

And while he enjoyed the occasional attention from her- he wasn't fooled. It was harmless flirting, the devious design of a bard to attract the gaze of another- a bait thrown into the water to see if the fish would bite. Whether or not she was aware of it, the bard was drawn to the Warden. Or, at least, intrigued by her.

And the fish had taken the bite. Even from here he could see the smile Kallian was trying so hard to suppress. The assassin tutted inwardly. A few tips from him and she would be sailing through this more easily. But he knew very well the reason for her reluctance.

He had seen such tragic cases before. And it hardly ever ended well for city elves.

As for himself, however, Zevran had never known his parents to ever be confined by such expectations. He lived his years freely, albeit at the service of the Crows- it was a small price to pay. Especially since he could have anyone he desired.

Finally, he saw the two separating and Kallian headed for the dining room. Zevran followed her in, stepping up behind her without a sound.

"So I have been wondering lately," he said cheerfully.

"Maker's breath!" said the Warden, jumping.

He ignored her, sitting down to pick up an apple and examined it closely. "Do you prefer apples or oranges?"

Kallian narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Why do you ask?" she asked, also sitting down.

"Because you seem to be holding both in your hands," replied the assassin, chuckling.

The other elf's lips twisted. "What are you talking about? Spit it out."

"But then it won't be half as fun."

"Unlike you-"

"I was under the impression that you did not want to be heard… or found out."

"What are you-?"

"Alistair," he said with a wicked smile. "He seems to trust you quite a bit. More than a bit, actually."

"You're still going on about that? Alistair is just a good friend."

Zevran laughed. "I am sure he is- to you. But I suspect otherwise for him."

Kallian stopped in the middle of biting into an apple. He read the disturbance in her eyes and gave her a moment.

"A word of advice," he said, breaking the silence after a while. "I suggest you make it clear to him- you may be leading him on unfairly."

The elf frowned. "I never gave him any indication."

"That may be true, but… he is not always the brightest."

Kallian sighed and made a noise of frustration. "Shit, this is beyond me. I've got enough on my mind with the Blight and everything else. Besides, I could be imagining it."

Zevran peeled the orange he was holding. "Oh, believe me my friend. It is not hard to see."

"I prefer not to think about it," said the Warden uncomfortably.

"And Leliana?"

He resisted the urge to laugh when she stiffened.

"What about her?"

"Oh, I think you know what I mean," he said, cutting the orange with his dagger.

"No," said Kallian firmly. "I don't."

"Ah," said Zevran, smiling broadly. "Then shall I take that as permission to work my charms on the lovely bard?"

The elf's eyes blazed. "Where did you hear that?"

Zevran laughed. "Trust me, my dear Warden. I know these things."

He could almost hear her teeth grinding together as she fumed silently.

"She is a rare beauty, no? And a bard, no less. I think she and I will have much in common."

"You dishonourable-"

"I thought you did not care?"

"I care about my friends!"

"Come, let us drop this pretence. You need not be shy."

The elf's eyes hardened.

"Don't play these games with me," she said coldly.

Zevran studied her and then he popped a piece of the fruit in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "You know, the Maker gave us these urges for a reason."

"If you start that again..."

"Whatever do you mean? I am talking about this orange."

"The hell you are."

"One must have food, no?" he forestalled her, eating again. "Or we will surely die."

Kallian looked like she wanted to kill him but didn't reply. He took that as an invitation to continue.

"Some like apples, some like oranges. Others like figs and pears and so on. Most of us could eat all of them. But imagine if there was a woman who was born with a terrible allergy to oranges."

The Warden's mouth twitched but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her laugh. "What are you trying to say?"

"But wait, I am not finished," said Zevran, holding up a hand. He paused for effect. "And if there was, say, a famine or drought that wiped out every tree except those that bore oranges... do you think she would eat them?"

It was a question he posed casually, perhaps even to loosen her up. But his real intention was to do more than this behind the facade of flippancy.

Kallian gave him an expression that told him it wasn't worth replying to.

Zevran chuckled. "Hmm. I believe she would- to survive."

"She could die from that too, you know," said the Warden finally, snorting.

"Exactly. But she could perhaps eat as little as she could each day, just enough to live."

Something changed in Kallian's expression and she stood up abruptly. "This is ridiculous."

"Humour me, my friend. It is not often we talk like this."

"This is exactly why I don't talk to you."

Ouch. "Just one question then: if she did eat and bear with these symptoms, would it be living?"

Kallian started walking away.

Zevran put the last piece in his mouth. "Is breathing, moving and functioning all there is to it?"

The Warden stopped in her tracks.

"Should we deny what is natural?"

It was a while before she spoke. "She had no choice."

Ah, so now you understand.

"And I wonder why that would be."

"Well, there must have been something she couldn't leave behind," growled Kallian, voice strained.

"If that is the case, I think starvation might be a kinder death for her. Wouldn't you say?"

A bitter laugh escaped her. "You know nothing, assassin."

Kallian stalked out of the room without another word. But it didn't matter- he had said what he wanted to say.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Guard, deflect, strike!"

The flat of her blade banged against Alistair's head.

"Ow. Yes, that's it," he said, nodding. "And again!"

The two circled each other carefully. Kallian held her sword pointing in the direction of his chest as she shifted her feet. Both of them moved with knees bent, crossing one leg over the other with each step.

Alistair made the first lunge.

She anticipated this, twirling her blade to block his attack from the right. They spun to opposite sides, trading a passing blow. Kallian whirled around to receive the next uppercut, swinging her blade in a wide arc. She brought it down and forced him to make a short swipe at her torso. Another parry took care of that. It was a comfortable exercise of basic and complex manoeuvres, and Kallian loved it. There was nothing like the weight of a sword in her hand, losing herself in the rhythm of instinctive movements.

For a time at least, she forgot about everything else. Including what Zevran had said the other day.

Alistair pressed harder now, coming at her with heavy blows. Kallian increased her pace, taking the last strike with her hilt. She slid her blade along his and flung it away. He stepped back and she took the chance to attack him ferociously, her blade quick and precise. Left, right, down, sweep, parry, spin and swipe. Alistair blocked her moves admirably- being a former Templar, she hadn't expected anything less. She slipped once and he banged her neck with the flat of his sword. Kallian grimaced and rubbed the spot, which smarted.

"Maker, you're quick," said Alistair, panting. "You've improved since Ostagar."

"That was a long time ago- if I hadn't, I'd be dead."

"Still," he said. "I haven't had a spar like this in a while. You pick things up quickly."

"Let's try that move again."

"Alright, then. Get ready."

For the next few minutes, they traded furious blows, panting and sweating. They had been at this for the whole morning now, and she wasn't about to let Alistair win. She parried a cut from the side and sidestepped when he stabbed. As he spun, she was about to hit his shoulder when a flash of red made her falter.

Alistair crashed into her and they went tumbling to the ground.

Kallian landed hard on her back and grimaced. Fresh bruises formed under her armour. Alistair pushed himself off her, blushing.

"Sorry. Are you alright?" he asked, holding out a hand.

The elf glared at him but took it. She stood up and sighed. "Fine. I should have been ready for that."

"Never mind," he said, bending down to get her helmet.

Alistair nestled it back on her head. Then he hesitated before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Kallian stiffened at the gesture.

What the-?

She looked up at him and felt a growing foreboding in her.

Someone cleared their throat from behind them. Kallian cursed inwardly when she saw Leliana.

"Oh, Leliana," said Alistair cheerfully. "Didn't see you there."

"Well," said the bard, walking over to them. Kallian took a step backward from Alistair.

"I was just wondering if… Kallian wanted some archery practice."

The elf felt a jolt of surprise. True, her archery skills were cringeworthy at the moment- her mother had never included this in her training. But the prospect of spending time alone with Leliana was daunting. And then she thought about staying with Alistair and decided that was even worse.

Is it really? Think carefully, said a voice in her head.

"Uh… yeah…" she heard herself say.

You fool!

"Good," said the bard. "I'll take it from here," she said to Alistair.

"Go for it," replied Alistair, grinning. As he walked away, Kallian felt her heart sinking when she saw the spring in his steps.

Damn it. What have I gotten myself into?

She turned to follow Leliana to the targets, shaking her head. Alistair couldn't… no, it couldn't be. Maker, he was like a brother to her!

Kallian was still subdued when Leliana handed her the bow. The elf strung it and tested out the tension.

"Alistair is quite fond of you, isn't he?"

Kallian's head snapped up at the question. The bard was pulling at her own bowstring.

"… Yes. Well, we've been through a lot together."

"True," said the sister, nocking an arrow. Kallian watched as she released it, letting it fly in a perfect arc. It landed neatly in the central ring.

"Impressive," said the elf, nodding.

Leliana bent down to get another arrow. She handed it to her.

Kallian raised an eyebrow. "You want me to show you?"

There was a glint in the sister's eyes as she jerked her head to the target.

The elf shrugged and turned to face it. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Kallian pulled the bowstring back, adjusting her aim and trying to estimate which position would get it on the board. She sighed and let it fly.

The arrow didn't even get close to the target.

"Not bad," said the sister.

Kallian looked at her and her eyes narrowed. "Right... you're laughing at me."

Leliana removed her hand from her mouth. She chuckled. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. But really, it's not that bad. For your first time, that is." Then she placed her bow on the ground and stepped behind the elf. "Here, let me show you."

Kallian's eyes widened as the bard closed cool fingers around the elf's hands. She felt Leliana's soft form press against her from behind and stiffened.

By the Maker…

Kallian swallowed as she let the woman raise her arms, gripping her with soft fingers. She felt like her brain had turned to mush. The Warden didn't even remember where the aim was when the arrow flew. It hit the centre.

She felt the cold wind as Leliana moved away again.

"Did you see where I aimed it?"

"Um… could you just show me again?"

Leliana laughed and took hold of Kallian's hands again. This time the elf paid attention. But the sensation was overwhelming- one brush, one contact and Kallian was paralyzed. The bard stepped back to watch her student's performance.

Kallian raised her arms skyward and brought it down, pulling the bowstring. The arrow tip was where she estimated the sister's had been. She let it loose and she hit the ring outside the centre.

"That was quite good," said Leliana in surprise.

Kallian shrugged. "Thanks, but that was only one shot. I probably won't do it again."

For the next few hours or so, she practised archery with Leliana's supervision. Eventually she got the hang of it- a sense of the right distance, the right pull on the string. Leliana had her try different distances and Kallian had to keep adjusting her aim. When she couldn't get it right, the bard would step in again and help her. Every time she did this, Kallian felt electricity course through her, again and again.

For the last time, she let loose the arrow and shot the centre.

"Yesss!" crowed Kallian, pumping her fist in the air.

Leliana laughed. "Well done. You did very well." Then she peered into the two quivers and found it empty. "It looks like we've finished with these."

Kallian nodded and rolled her shoulders. She looked up at the sun, the last of its rays lighting up the sky. The hours had gone by so quickly she hadn't noticed the time.

"We should go back," she said. "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

The bard nodded. "If you're up for it," she said, her voice teasing.

"Of course I am," said Kallian, grinning.

"Then it's settled."

But eventually the effects of adrenaline faded away and she groaned inwardly at what she had just done. It was a mistake. Training with Leliana was a mistake.

Damn it, thought the elf in despair. I keep forgetting myself when I'm around her.

The elf continued to argue with herself as they fetched the arrows lying around. It took a while since some of them had strayed to the sides. She bent down to get the last one and nearly spasmed as her hand touched Leliana's. Both of them froze, drawing back. The elf hesitated before picking it up.

When she straightened, the bard was looking down at her with clear blue eyes. Eyes like the sky she saw on better days in the Alienage, back when her mother was still alive. She couldn't look away, and Leliana didn't either.

What are you doing, you fool? A voice snapped in her head.

Kallian shook herself and held out the arrow. "Here."

The elf wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs as they both walked over to get their bows. She tried to look anywhere other than Leliana's face.

They made their way into the castle in silence and paused in front of Leliana's room. Kallian stared at the floor.

"Thanks for the help today."

"You're welcome," said the bard. She opened the door.

Tell her you've changed your mind about tomorrow.

They both stood there in silence for several minutes as Kallian couldn't seem to get the words out. She wanted to say it, but didn't know how. Something was holding her back. Hence she was still standing there locked in conflict- Leliana was probably thinking she was having a stroke or something. Finally, she gave up.

"Right… well, I should go."

"You go and bathe first," said the sister.

"No it's alright, you can."

"Or... if you want to, we could both go together. That way we would save time."

What?

Kallian looked up at the teasing tone. No, it wasn't teasing… it was something Leliana had never used before. Maker, it was almost like… Zevran? She stared up at the woman, who was leaning against the doorframe.

Then the elf shook herself- she was seriously reading this wrong. Kallian nearly laughed at her own stupidity. Of course, this was not uncommon: even in the Alienage, she had shared a tub with Shianni and sometimes family friends of her age. But that was when she was young- Leliana was clearly joking.

"Erm, I'll just go first then," she said uncertainly.

Leliana nodded.

Kallian finally moved her legs in the direction of her own room but then paused, looking back at the chantry sister. "Goodnight Leliana."

"Goodnight Kallian," replied the bard, giving her a sidelong glance. A ghost of a smile touched her lips and there was a strange glint in her eyes before she turned away to close the door.

The elf stood there in the corridor, wondering if she really had read it wrong.