Aedan and Elissa lead us through the gates of Denerim at a sprint, leaving me the second to last, and responsible for making sure Wynne keeps up. Darkspawn swarm around the party, but Elissa and Theorn keep them back with well-placed spells. Morrigan was nowhere to be found last night, but the Wardens seemed fine with her sudden disappearance, so I haven't questioned it. If they know where she's gone, then fine. Let her stay gone.
I pull up short, stopping so suddenly that Wynne runs into my back, and nearly knocks me into the sword I tried to avoid. The older mage throws a chunk of stone at the hurlock to clear the way forward, and I keep going without so much as giving her a nod of thanks. If I stop again, we could miss our opening in the rapidly closing gates, and then leave the Wardens without their healer. Elissa can suffice, sure, but Wynne has spent her entire life learning healing spells.
"Come on!" Aedan yells. His voice is barely a whisper as we cut through the horde. Behind me, I can hear Wynne racing to keep up, and the sounds of battle as the army collides with the darkspawn. We've gained momentum because of a risky tactic Elissa insisted on using, and I don't want to be the reason we lose it.
Slipping through the three-foot thick oak doors, I turn to see Wynne get through at the last possible second. We're cut off from reinforcements for the time being, but so are the darkspawn, and we have more troops outside of the gates than they do. I just hope that's enough to allow us to gain a foothold here.
"Look! Darkspawn!" Cyrus says cheerfully.
"What did you expect?" Zevran says sarcastically. "Courtesans and gold?"
The Nevarran man laughs. "Would it be bad to say yes?"
"And you're the Senior Warden!" Aedan says, exasperated.
"And Elissa's the Warden-Commander," Cyrus finishes.
"And there's a shitload of darkspawn, yet you insist on cracking stupid jokes," Elissa says. Then she bolts down the staircase at a run, vanishing into a horde of darkspawn. Alistair, Aedan, and Cyrus are the first to follow, leaving Talith and Sten back with me, Wynne, and Zevran. The latter disappears in the shadows while the elf and the Qunari follow the Wardens into the fighting.
A genlock detaches from the bulk of the small horde, running towards Wynne and I, but I have an arrow fired before it can get within reach.
"Someone work on opening the gates!" Cyrus shouts.
"On it!" Aedan yells. I fire three arrows into three different darkspawn, managing to catch a shriek before it vanishes in a puff of smoke. "Leliana! Let's go!"
Why am I not surprised he'd call for me?
A whole day. It's been an entire day since Elissa killed the Archdemon, but healers are still fussing over the four of us that went into the city after it. The remainder of the horde is being chased down by men from Highever, whatever darkspawn the army failed to chase to Fort Drakon, and our party...we're sitting in Denerim's palace, being tended to by some of Ferelden's finest healers. It feels...wrong. After a year of being one of the few people standing between the Blight and Ferelden, it is strange to be sitting here while someone else goes to kill the darkspawn.
But Maker, it's over. It's finally over.
Coming down from the tower yesterday, a half-alive Grey Warden in tow, I didn't feel hurt. Now, sitting on a cot in a makeshift infirmary, I feel like an ogre sat on me and broke all of my bones. Thinking of ogres brings back a memory I'm not so sure I like. It reminds me of the last time we went to Redcliffe; we found the village under attack by darkspawn, and with an ogre at the center of it. Elissa had me, Cyrus, and Zevran, along with her mabari, follow her down a hill and into the town ahead of the others. Me and her stayed back to use our bows while the other three engaged the darkspawn with the ogre, and accidentally left us exposed. The ogre went for me, but Elissa took my place, and it threw her a good thirty feet into the air before catching her. I had started back towards the Chantry to keep the darkspawn away from it and to get a clearer shot, but the ogre whipped her at me and knocked us both several yards into the building. Still, after we had cleared the village, Elissa finally came out and said that she thinks of me as a sister. It kind of made me feel better, but it kind of didn't. It was more of a...neutral day.
I've apparently had a cracked rib since then. Hmm. That would explain why my side has been hurting for the last two weeks. When the mage told me that my rib wasn't healing correctly from the injury, I was more surprised by the fact that it was the only wound I'd sustained from it in the first place. It's not everyday a Warden in two hundred pounds of silverite armor is thrown at you.
Unfortunately, that's not the only injury that needs to be mended. I managed to sprain my ankle fighting yesterday, and an alpha broke my wrist with its hammer towards the end. I'm covered in smaller cuts and various other bruises, but I honestly think I got the least of the damage. My ankle has been healed, but my wrist is still set in a sling. "Heal it gradually for the best results," he said. Yes, but now I can't do anything whatsoever. I'm right handed and it's my right wrist that's broken. I can't even eat normally.
Across from me is the "Hero of Ferelden" with her typical smirk plastered on her features. She has a bloodied gash running across her neck, but it looks more like a scrape. A wicked scrape that would have even the toughest of children in tears.
"I can't believe we're not dead," Elissa says, flexing her hand. When she charged the dragon, it tried (and failed) to cook her in her armor. The shielding spell she casted must have missed her hand because it's now wrapped in several layers of linen, burned almost beyond recognition. "I would've bet good sovereigns that one of us wouldn't survive the battle."
"You don't count Riordan?" I ask, wincing. In addition to all the other wounds I've listed off, I also have a few broken ribs from being knocked off a staircase, a large gash across my hairline, plus my recent headache, but the latter has nothing to do with the fighting from yesterday.
She shrugs. "I didn't know him very well. I feel bad that a Warden died, yes, but it's better than losing one of you." Her smirk had faded while she spoke, but it returns rather quickly. "Besides, I get to spend my time sleeping now. How could I be upset about that? You know how much sleep I've lost because of the Blight? I have a lot of catching up to do."
Her grin transfers to my face. If there's one person I can count on to be making jokes at a bad time, it's her, despite what she said to the men yesterday. Elissa is full of bad, and inopportune, humor. Just by being in the same room with her and her stupid grinning will make me feel moderately better. It's one of the reasons we followed her and not Aedan. He was always the better leader, but when Elissa came back, bad humor and newfound leadership skills ready to flaunt, it was clear she was in charge. Aedan had always deferred to the older of the two, happy to follow his sister's lead, but before she vanished, I would've followed Aedan more willingly than her.
"I'm not so sure," I admit with a shrug. "You are the Hero of Ferelden. People will expect you to put in an appearance sometime or another."
"Ugh," she groans. "Don't remind me." She falls back on her cot rather ungracefully, something I've come to expect from her whether or not she's tired, and asks, "How do you think the guys are holding up?"
"Well enough," I answer. "They both had less broken bones then we do."
"Their wounds were more severe," Elissa says. She sounds worried, and I can sympathize, having spent most of my night worrying about Aedan instead of sleeping, but I trust that the healers will do their jobs well.
"You killed a dragon and got blasted in the face with holy light," I retort. She laughs halfheartedly. "I'm wondering how you have yet to go blind."
"That's an excellent question, Leliana."
"Of course it was. I asked it."
"Oh haha, so very funny," Elissa remarks. I start to reply, but she cuts me off, saying, "One smart comment about how it was funny because you said it, and I'll get up and break your other wrist."
I stifle a laugh to prevent the pain it'll bring, instead opting to lay on my back and stare at the ceiling.
The Blight is over. It's really over. No more darkspawn, no more sleeping out on the ground unless we want to, no more treaty-retrieving... I can't believe it. This doesn't feel possible. A year of shedding blood with these people, and crying with them, and hurting, and gaining, and losing, and winning, it's finally over. It can all end now. I could go back to Orlais if I really wanted to. No, I should go back. I'm needed there...
Thinking of leaving kills me. I can't just leave. Not after everything Aedan has done for me. The temptation lingers; normally I'd just leave to save myself the trouble of goodbyes and the hurt those bring, but...I can't leave. Aedan is too important to me.
I'm about to doze off when the door opens in a rush. I crack an eye, but bolt upright when the healers start fussing and talking frantically, carrying a wailing woman in. They set her on the cot before ushering off the soldiers that carried her. A few others, healers and a apothecary, trail in behind them, branching out to check everyone else in the room. Most of the women here are asleep, trying to block out the pain they're in, but it's hardly successful.
"Time for round two of strangers casting creepy spells on us," Elissa says sarcastically.
"It could be worse," I say without looking away from the woman they've found. "You could be healing people."
She winces, rubbing her collarbone. "Ouch. My pride." Then she laughs with an amused grin on her face. It shifts to a rather unhappy flat line when a mage makes it clear he's going to check on her. "You can't go help someone else? I'm fine! I can even heal myself."
"Queen's orders," he says softly. By the way he makes his approach slow and awkward, it's obvious he's afraid of her. I can't help stifling a laugh, causing Elissa to fix me with a glare. "Said you and your party members are to be healed as quickly as possible, she did."
"You mean to tell me I can't get a break? Dammit."
"Down," he says.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
I roll my eyes, giggling, when another mage walks to our row of cots to stop beside mine. An annoyed huff escapes me, much to Elissa's amusement, and he makes a motion for me to lay down.
"What's wrong with you?" he asks, pulling up a stool to sit.
"Some of my ribs are broken, others are cracked," I say. "Then I have my wrist and several gashes everywhere you could provably imagine."
He chuckles. "I'll give you credit, Warden," he says over to Elissa. "You've got a cheerful bunch."
"Did you just say Leliana's cheerful?"
I snort indignantly and the mage rolls his eyes. "If you're all they had to look forward to in the mornings, I'm wondering how you ever got them to help you end the Blight."
"Easy," Elissa says. "Leliana? Care to explain it?"
"I shot the Archdemon in the face with arrows."
"Exactly."
"Uh...all right," the mage says. I can imagine Elissa giving me an approving look for freeing her from the conversation, but we're both trapped by mages. "Let me see what I can do about your ribs first, and then I'll start the mending for your wrist."
"Yesterday the mage said you'll have to heal it gradually?"
"Unfortunately, yes," he says. "We can't always be sure we'll heal it correctly if we do it all at once, and even if we could, it takes massive amounts of mana to heal something like a wrist. We're to conserve our mana for other soldiers and civilians that may need it."
"Ah."
"Ribs, however, are quick and easy to fix." He smiles apologetically, adding, "And rather painful."
"Of course they are."
I try to ignore the urge to kick the mage away as he runs his hands over my abdomen, poking and prodding to find the ribs that need to be healed. I don't appreciate being touched in the first place, having a hard time to get used to even Aedan, and I definitely don't like it when strangers touch me, "creepy spells" at the ready. Still, I know he's just trying to do his job, so I do my best to refrain from fidgeting.
"What did you do, fall off a building?"
"Probably. So much happened yesterday that I can't keep it all straight."
He snorts, but I hear Elissa laughing. "Seriously, Orlesian, what happened?"
"Well, you see, there was this hurlock with a hammer...and a few staircases..."
"That's pleasant."
"You're telling me!"
He huffs, annoyed. Good. He doesn't need to be making smart comments about us to Elissa, and vice versa.
Apparently, he's so annoyed that he decides to 'forget' to tell me that he's going to start healing my ribs. I yelp, both from pain and surprise, and shoot him a glare wicked enough that if looks would kill, he'd be dead several times over. He has to lift my injured arm out of the way while he heals, but I only bite my tongue, refusing to cry out again. It hurts as much as breaking them did, and the healing potion he gives me to heal the bloody cuts and numb the pain doesn't do much in the way of helping. Still, all I have to worry about is my wrist now, and how I'm supposed to defend myself should I need to.
"So I can leave?" I ask, keeping my bitterness from my voice.
"Yes, you may," he says. "Wait outside and we'll send the Warden after you in a few minutes."
Elissa laughs, annoyed. "You lucky son of a bitch."
I grin at her as I get up and pass her cot. "Have fun, Warden." She rolls her eyes while I weave my way through the makeshift infirmary and out into the main courtyard. Having been separated from the men, I find a few from the group waiting for me by a small pool of water. It reflects an orange, Blight-infected sky, tinging everything the color of blood. Zevran's hair, paler than Elissa's, looks to be the exact same color of blood. It's...unnerving.
"There she is!" Cyrus says.
"Maker," I groan.
The Nevarran Warden laughs loudly, standing aside so I can join the small circle. "You're the first one out, you know. I hear Alistair was almost ready to be sent out, but that was an hour ago."
My throat tightens. "And Aedan?"
He shrugs and I make a point of ignoring Zevran's suggestive eyebrow wiggle. "Don't know. I didn't hear anything about him." I swallow, nodding as I look down at my feet, and he rests a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure he's fine, Leliana. Aedan's a tough guy."
I look up, arching a brow. "You say that like I don't already know it."
He winces for my benefit. "Your observational skills could be improved."
"You're lucky I can't punch you."
He and Zevran both laugh. Sten just stands beside the elf, looking to be rather unamused. Just as Cyrus opens his mouth to say something again, he pauses.
"Oh shit."
I follow his gaze. "What?" It takes me a moment, but at the last possible second, I catch sight of the brown mabari running across the courtyard at full speed. My eyes widen as the fur ball leaps, knocking us both to the ground. Wolf knocks all the wind from my lungs, but doesn't seem to notice as he licks my face. My gasps for air soon turn into giggles as I try (and fail) to push Elissa's mabari off my chest.
"Wolf!" I barely recognize the voice that snaps at the dog, but his face falls instantly, and he starts to crawl off me. "You know better than to just attack people like that! Bad dog!" A brown-haired man that looks a lot like Aedan grabs the mabari and hauls him off me before offering me a hand up. "Sorry about that. Elissa never really trained him well."
"It's fine," I say, smiling down at the mabari by my leg. His tail is wagging, and it's not long before he starts barking again.
"I hope so," Fergus says, chuckling. "Wolf never greets anyone but Elissa like that. She might get jealous." Wolf pauses, looking up at the eldest of the three Cousland siblings, and cocks his head to the side. "You heard me. Your mother might get jealous." He whines, but he reaches down to scratch behind Wolf's ears, quickly calming the beast of a dog. "All right, boy. I'm just teasing you. Go find my mother and bring her back here, will you?"
The mabari gives a happy bark before running off back the way they came.
"That dog reminds me of Elissa in so many ways," I comment.
Cyrus laughs. "What, the fact that they'll both tackle you for no reason?"
"Elissa tackles me when I'm about to get shot."
"Ah!" Zev exclaims, holding a hand up. "You forget about our dash to the Brecelian Forest for you, my friend. She didn't tackle you to stop that arrow."
I roll my eyes. "That's different."
"Oh really? How so?"
"You know what? Shut up." The Antivan laughs with his Nevarran friend, and then follows him and Sten while they go to find food for the three Wardens who will hopefully be joining us soon. I'm left with Fergus, and for a moment, the silence is awkward, but I hop up on the railing around the pool and look up at the sky, ignoring his presence.
"It still escapes me how you joined their party," Fergus says carefully.
I know what he means without saying anything. "I'm more surprised that I didn't find myself left behind at camp one night."
"My siblings aren't like that," Fergus says.
I smile faintly and look back down at Wolf. "Trust me; I know."
Fergus sighs, shaking his head, and says, "It amazes me, you know. It wasn't so long ago that the two of them were sparring in the courtyard as a demonstration for Howe's men." Unlike Elissa or Aedan, Fergus' voice doesn't catch at the mention of the man who slaughtered everything and everyone he ever knew and loved. It either doesn't bother him as much anymore, or he is better at concealing his emotions than the twins. "Now they're Grey Wardens and my little sister is the Hero of Ferelden."
"A well-deserved title," I say. "She earned it."
He smiles. "I know she did. I'm proud of her, of them both. It's just...not what I expected when I heard they were still alive."
"I don't think they expected to see you alive."
"I didn't expect to see them again, that's for sure," Fergus replies. "Howe never liked either of them. Too...pure for his tastes. Innocent, maybe."
I raise a brow. "I thought Aedan had been engaged to his daughter before. And Howe didn't like him?" The thought of someone disliking Aedan is so strange to me that I can't comprehend it. Everybody likes Aedan. He's nice, and polite, and funny, and...I'll just stop talking now.
Fergus chuckles. "Howe was a selfish bastard. I'm sure they told you what happened at Highever? He just wanted the power a marriage like that would bring him."
"Then I am glad to say he's dead."
"You're not the only one," Fergus admits. "My wife and my son were killed during the raid. Elissa...she told me she tried to revive Oren, but it was...too late." He looks away, and from this angle, I can see the tears shining in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Fergus."
He shakes his head. "It's all right. You couldn't have done anything to prevent it. I don't even know your name; how can I expect you to have done something?"
"I'm Leliana," I say.
"And just how exactly did they manage to recruit you? Where are you from?"
"I was in Lothering when they came through. It was just a day after your men passed through, if I remember correctly. That's where they found Sten, the Qunari, too."
"I assume you know how all the others joined then?"
I shrug. "More or less. Wynne was recruited after we saved the Circle, Talith came from the Circle as well, Oghren joined when we left Orzammar, Theorn just...appeared one day, and Zev and Cyrus tried to kill Elissa and Alistair."
His face blanches. "And she let them join?"
"I stopped asking questions after she set Redcliffe on fire," I say, putting up my left hand defensively. "I figured it was the safer option."
"It probably was. My sister has a temper like no other."
I scoff. "Some days that temper saved my life."
"I'm sure it did," Fergus agrees. He hesitates before asking, "How are they? Do you know?"
"I know Elissa was being her typical smartass self when the healers came through," I answer with a shrug. "Cyrus said Alistair would be out shortly. Aedan..." My voice catches and I have to resist the urge to scowl. "I don't know about him."
Fergus' brows crease. "What's with you two? Are you...um...you know..." He clears his throat awkwardly, unable to hold my gaze. I raise an eyebrow just to be mean, but he seems to take that as a question. "It's just that...whenever you were in Highever, he always followed you around like a lovesick puppy. Both times, as a matter of fact."
"Did he now?"
"I can see why Elissa is your friend," Fergus says, scowling. I laugh, holding onto the rim of the railing to keep from falling backwards into the water. "She would've said something along those lines."
"What can I say, brother? I trained her well."
Looking past Fergus' shoulder, the recently appointed Hero of Ferelden is standing with her arms crossed and her customary grin on her face again. It transfers to my face and Fergus', but his face falls when he sees all the bandages she still sports. A salve has been rubbed into her neck and covered with a patch, and her hand is still wrapped, but with fresh linen. My grin transforms into an apologetic smile, one she returns.
"It's good to see you well, sis," Fergus says, embracing her as gently as a man of his size can. "I was starting to worry."
She hugs her brother back, sighing as she says, "It'll take more than a lousy Archdemon to best me." I snort and smirk. Elissa fixes me with a look, so I shrug and say nothing. "Where's Mother? Is she here?"
Fergus nods as he releases her. "She arrived this morning. She's been fussing over anything to keep from worrying about you and Aedan." As I slide to the ground, Wolf comes bounding around the corner. He barks excitedly as he races to his mistress, and greets her with just as powerful a leap (but perhaps far more enthusiastic). Elissa seems thrilled by the sight of her mabari, laughing and hugging him as he licks her face. A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I follow Fergus' gaze to the woman approaching the three of us. I faintly recognize her; she looks much different than she did when Elissa and I freed her from Highever's dungeons. She looks younger and healthier, but it's still obvious she's not...spry.
Elissa sees her mother when she stops beside Fergus and with a quick command, has herself freed from her dog's clutches. I feel somewhat out of place, like I'm intruding, when the Teyrna covers her mouth to stifle a sob. The fact that she practically attacks my friend with a hug makes it worse, but I don't back away. I hold my ground, arms folded over my chest, staring at my feet. I'm glad to see everyone happy, for the most part, but I feel like I should be elsewhere.
"I'm so proud of you," Eleanor whispers. "And I'm sure your father is too."
"Thank you."
"Where's your brother?" She actually looks at me like she expects me to know, but I only shrug, so she looks back to Elissa. "Is Aedan all right?"
"I assume so," Elissa says, exchanging looks with me. "I got the brunt of the damage. I mean, I did charge a high dragon with a death wish. He should be fine, just like Alistair."
Eleanor nods, shifting her grey gaze back to me. It's so intent that it sends chills down my spine. "You are the...Orlesian, correct?"
Elissa's face darkens. Elissa's. Elissa could barely tolerate me for the longest of times. "Leliana's my friend. She's saved my life plenty of times."
The Teyrna laughs and waves it off. "I meant no disrespect," she says. "I just wanted to know if she was the one with you when you rescued me." Her eyes meet mine again. "Are you?"
I nod once. "Yes, Your Grace."
"Please, don't use formalities," she says. "If you're close with my children, that's good enough for me." She smiles in a motherly way that I almost cringe at. "After all, you aren't even Fereldan, and yet you risked your life for my country. The least I could do is allow you to use my name."
Elissa and I both cringe though, when she says I'm not Fereldan. As far as I'm concerned, I am Fereldan. Since leaving Orlais, everything I loved has been here, and my mother was from this very city. Three of the four people I'm close to are Fereldans.
"Leliana is a Fereldan," Elissa says in a tone that no one would argue with.
"Er...all right."
"Accent has nothing to do with it," Elissa continues. "She chose us over them, she stayed to help defeat the Blight, and she was with me when I killed the dragon. She's Fereldan." The blond Warden smiles in my direction, and after a moment of nervousness, I return the gesture. I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like her, one that'll jump to my defense over her own mother, but that's when I decide I'll always have her back. A friend like that should be treasured. She's like my sister, and as long as she'll defend me, I'll do the same.
"Thank you," I say, offering a small friendly smile. Elissa returns the gesture with a large grin, and as she begins to say something, her eyes widen. She's looking past me now, blue eyes huge, and that grin turns into a look of disbelief.
I look back to see Alistair walking up to us. His hair is disheveled, something he's desperately trying to fix on his way over, but he doesn't manage to. The sight brings another smile to my face; that's normal. Anything normal would definitely make me feel better.
So would seeing Aedan.
"Hey, ginger." I scowl when I look up, shooting Elissa my best glare, but she only laughs. "Instead of sitting around reading, grab your daggers and come out to the courtyard with me."
"You act like you haven't had enough fighting in the last forty-eight hours."
She scoffs. "Come on."
With a groan, I flip my book on Fereldan history closed and push it aside. The Warden shoots me a victorious grin before leaping to her feet. In the last two days, neither of us have gone anywhere unarmed, but it's not like I can do anything anyway. My wrist is snapped, broken, destroyed, useless. She knows that. So what in the Maker's name could she want me to do with my daggers out in the courtyard?
I sling my belt over my shoulder and follow the Cousland out the door, through the winding hallways of the palace, and through a garden full of dead rose bushes before finally finding ourselves in the aforementioned courtyard. Alistair is out here, as he has been for most of the day, with Cyrus and Zevran. Talith returned to the Circle with Wynne after supper last night, saying that Ferelden needed its Knight-Captain and the mages would need Wynne. Sten is around here somewhere with Wolf, and Morrigan hasn't been seen since the night before the battle. Aedan...he's still in the infirmary, and if I wasn't so damn tired yesterday, I would've found a way to go see him. Today, however, I'm going to make sure I do. Somehow.
"All right," Elissa says, "step one." She spins around and stops cold in front of me, grabbing my right arm by the elbow. This morning the healers got enough work done that I could remove the sling, but it still hurts with every little twitch. A wince of pain escapes me, earning me an apologetic smile, and she says, "Sorry about that. It wasn't intentional."
"I know," I say past gritted teeth.
"Watch this," she says dramatically. The Warden takes my wrist between her hands as gently as she can before I realize what she's going to do.
"The mages-"
"They're idiots," Elissa snaps. "None of them have any experience healing. Wynne does, but they don't."
"And you do?"
She grins. "I'm a spirit healer. Hope gives me extra mana when I'm healing someone, so I can actually cast longer spells. Or more complex ones. Either way, if I had enough mana, I could go through and heal all of our wounded soldiers." She blinks, zoning out for a brief moment, and adds, "Besides, shut up. I need to heal your wrist before they let it set wrong." A moment later, her hands are glowing blue with healing energy, and my stomach twists into nervous knots. I have no problems being healed with magic, least of all by someone I trust, but I'm afraid of Hope. The spirit has made it clear that she doesn't like me, and the thought of her helping Elissa heal unnerves me. I've seen the spirit when Elissa's gotten upset about something; there's no way I'm going to be able to defend myself if she ever decides to kill me. No number of Templars would be able to, either. I can understand where Templars are coming from, wanting to keep mages locked up and all, just by being close to the mage healing my wrist as painlessly as possible. The process is slow because of it, but I'd rather her just get it over with so Hope is farther away.
"Better?" she asks, sounding somewhat nervous because of my fidgeting.
I flex my wrist through the bandages, checking that I still have my full range of motion, and nod when I'm satisfied that I do. "Much. Thank you, Elissa."
"So are we getting lunch now?" Alistair asks. "I'm starving."
Elissa snorts. "What, did you miss breakfast?"
"No," Alistair says suspiciously. He draws out the 'o' sound, saying that's exactly what he did. I roll my eyes, huffing, and he gets this defensive air about him. "What? I'm not used to having a schedule to follow! What idiot eats breakfast at dawn?"
"We did."
"That's different!"
I raise a brow. "How, exactly?"
Alistair's struck speechless as he tries to figure out a way to win the argument, causing Elissa to laugh harder than she already is. She thinks it's funny, but I'm completely serious. What idiot skips breakfast? I'm not even a Warden, but I've been eating quite a lot of food the past few days, so I do my best not to miss any meals.
"You know what, I give up," Alistair says. "There's just no way for me to win when you two are on the same side."
"Women are always right," Elissa says, shooting me a conspiratorial grin. I snort a laugh, shaking my head, and start out to the external courtyard where we've spent our time eating with the soldiers. "Leliana?"
"What?" I turn to face her, but see the huge grin, and when I go to ask why she's looking at me like that, I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.
I can't help leaning back into his embrace. Or the large smile that finds its way onto my face.