Karleigh trudged ahead of the other's, determined not to slow them down. They hadn't had much trouble as they traveled north east to Denerim. They had only been about a day away when Zevran had ambushed them. Camping that night had been strained, to say the least. No one wanted to allow Zevran a shift for when the other's slept, so she was forced to share her tent with him. She made him face the wall of the tent as she changed into her commoner clothing, letting her hair down. It was hard to do with one hand and she had to suppress whimpers as a splintering sharp pain lit her nerves on fire.
"That is quite enough." He said, breaking the dark silence.
"What are you talking about?" She asked, her tone was harsh and defensive. He had been watching her, she had noticed when he frowned at her when she assured Allistair she was fine.
"It is not helping anyone for you not to admit you are injured, in fact you put more people in danger, no?" His expression was severe and she was glad only the firelight from the middle of the camp lit up the inside of the tent. His eyes looked at though they had fire in them.
"It would do no good to bring it up. We are out of injury kits." His expression did not let up and he motioned for the bed mat that was layed out.
"Sit." At her glare his expression lightened. "Please, I know how to set it, at least until we are able to find an injury kit. There is bound to be some foolhardy bandit or vagabond that we will slay and he will have an injury kit." He knelt in front of her and she gave him her arm, watching him with narrowed eyes. He looked up at her from under long light brown lashes. "Stop looking at me as though I have insulted your mother, you are stuck with me for as long as you have need of me."
"I do not need you." Her voice was like a whip, though he did not even flinch. He looked at her face, his expression one of warning as her applied gently pressure to the appendage. She whimpered as his fingers gently maneuvered her wrist, to examine it. He took out a bandage he had in his kit and wrapped it tightly around her hand and up her arm until just below the elbow. There would be no way to hide it from the others that she was injured. He smirked at her petulant expression and she wanted to smack him.
He released her hand and she sat back, watching as the fire danced on the planes of his face and his hair reminded her of a story her mother had told her as a child about a woman who could spin gold. That's what his hair looked like, spun gold. She smiled, slightly dazed, her wrist was throbbing but it felt confined. The pain was more managable. Zevran cleared his throat. " I have a question, if I may?"
Karleigh blinked, suddenly feeling exhausted. She shrugged "Go ahead."
Zevran sat up straighter, " Well, here is the thing. I swore an oath to serve you, yes? And I understand the quest you are on and this is all very good and well. " His tone was casual but somehow she felt weary, as though he was going to ask for something. That would be just her luck, spare her assassin's life and end up doing him a favor. She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. A shiver ran up her spine as a the breeze broke through her tent. She hated late autumn, the trees were mostly dead and the nights were cold.
"My question pertains as to what you intend to do with me once this business is over with. As a point of curiosity. "
Oh. She blinked in suprise, her mind seeming to freeze. "Well..You could go, if you wanted." Did she sound disappointed? Her good hand pressed on her forehead. She layed down on the mat, he could kill her if he wished. She would gladly accept death than have to deal with the mountain of pressing issues on the morrow.
"Could I? And what if I didn't wish to leave?" His voice was unreadable. She turned, moving her own long hair away so she could see his face. His eyes were dark, only the occasional flicker of brown, like tiger's eye rock, let her know his eyes hadn't turned completely black.
"Why wouldn't you go? If you had the chance." Her voice was confused. His hand reached forward and brushed some of the hair away from her face. She closed her eyes tightly, flinching slightly and he moved back, choosing to rest propped up be the tent wall on the opposite side of their small enclosure.
"How should I know?" His voice was calm." I cannot see the future. What if I liked it here? What if we became fond of each other? Hmm? Stranger things have happened." She wanted to laugh at him. He had tried to kill her just earlier that day. Surely he was jesting. She sighed and turned so that she was facing away from him.
"I suppose that is true." What point was there in arguing with him? She was far to tired and he was far to clever to waste the energy.
" See? I have a tendency to grow on others, you'll see..." At this she did giggle a bit. She could practically feel the grin on his own face. They were in silence for a few moments. Ever since he had joined them it was one thing after another, never a reason to just be silent and enjoy traveling. No silence for her own thoughts. He must have finally thought she fell asleep because he finally said.
" It is good to know what my options may be, but it is for another time. For now, we have much to do, yes?" He leaned his head against the canvas of the tent, eyes half closed as she slowly fell asleep. The camp seemed to be quiet now, except the crackling of the fire outside. The dull sounds lulled him to sleep, still exhausted from nearly dying earler that day. The wound at his side was nearly healed now, though it still was ached and bruised. He was still tense, suspecting that at any time the Warden could decide to kill him. He didn't trust how easily she seemed to accept him into her group. He could see how she tensed around him, as though she expected him to stab her as soon as she turned around.
It was surprising how beautiful she was, her long blond hair was usually kept in rolled up braids at the side of her head. She had been beautiful enough then, small nose and full lips. Large blue eyes, the color of the sky on a cloudless day. It was those eyes that had caused him to pause in his attempt to slit her throat. Her eyes stared deeply into his and the next thing he knew an explosive pain spread over the side of his head and he knew no more.
When he woke up she questioned him, not harshly as many would. And then she spared his life, even used her last injury kit on his wound. He did suppose it made sense, she could travel with a wrenched limb, where as he could feel his life escaping him through the wound she luckily inflicted in his side. Her companions were obviously loyal. He even had to admit that most of them were attractive..the human ones, anyways.
A small mewling noise had his eyes straining to see the other side of the tent. Karleigh was curled even more than she had been before, shaking slightly and whimpering. Zevran frowned, leaning forward. She turned quickly, so that she faced him and he saw that her eyes were open, staring eerily at him.
"My dear gray warden?" He tried, she didn't say anything and he leaned even closer to make sure her eyes really were open. He saw a muscle in her shoulder twitch and jumped back, just in time as her dagger swished and cut the air mere inches away from his neck. She was swaying slightly, her eyes unfocused and he realized she was still asleep. One of the other recruits, when he was a boy, suffered of the same thing. One of the other boys killed him in his sleep one night because he challenged him unknowingly.
Zevran held his hand out slowly and she didn't move. He closed in around her wrist and she dropped the dagger onto the ground. He sighed and tossed it away with his other hand. She sat down and he gently maneuvered her so that her head was on the pillow. He turned to take his spot back up at the other end of the tent. Zev jumped as a small hand gripped his elbow. She was looking at him again, he hadn't even heard her move. Her eyes were impossibly wide and innocent, causing him to wonder her age. She could not have been any older than 18. It was absurd he thought, for a little girl to be expected to end the blight.
"Stay?" She asked, her voice was small and raspy. He looked over to make sure that the flaps to her tent were closed. He stretched out next to her, an in away so as not to touch any part of her. Her heard her grumble and saw her arms raise and fish behind herself for his hand, gripping the wrist and pulling his arm around herself and clasping it in her thin fingers. He stiffened, but her steady breathing lulled and relaxed him more than the crackling of the fire and against his own judgement fell asleep.
Karleigh woke up later to the crunching sounds of boots approaching her tent, and her eyes opened, body tensed and ready for battle. It was a reflex now. She used to not be a light sleeper. Shianni could have come in banging pots and pans and smelling of a brewery and she would snore like a babe, leaving a trail of drool across her pillow. Now she was reaching for her dagger, her mind not aware of its surroundings yet.
A warm breeze blew across her shoulder and an arm was wrapped around her. She slowly turned her head and gulped, remembering what must have happened. Zevran's face was pressed against her back, she could feel his lips open slightly against the ridges of her shoulder blades. He grumbled and pulled her tighter towards himself and she froze, her breath whooshing out quickly. What was she going to to? She should wake him up, she knew. But...No.
His hands gave little enough resistance as she weaseled her way out of them. The foodfalls outside of her tent seemed to echo, almost as though she could hear the dust scatter from its former stationary position. She climbed to her feet and tried to tame her messy pale hair just in time , as the person tentitively pulled back the opening of her tent. Allistair's head peaked in. He took a look at her, hair messed up and clothes rumpled, then looked to Zevran and his jaw dropped. He coughed.
"The sun is up, it would be best to leave now, so as not to run into too many bandits on the main road. " She nodded and he gave Zevran one last look before shaking his head and turning to leave the tent.
"Allistair!" She called after him and cringed slightly, looking to see that Zevran still was still sleeping behind her. When she turned back to the tall knight she gave a weak smile.
"We didn't..I mean..I couldn't kill him." She said lamely. He gave her his childish crooked smile, though it was sad and made her feel as if she had killed his puppy.
"I know, sometimes I think you are just...too good." He left then and she felt horrid. No, she wasn't good. She was selfish. As if to agree, her wrist began to ache and continued to get worse as the day went on.
Now, she led them on to Denerim, not even able to enjoy the crunch of leaves under her boots or the chatter of her companions behind her. Her wrist had swelled and was now twice its usual circumference Even the wind against it caused her pain. She prayed to any deity out there for some mercy against the discomfort. She could see th large gate to Denerim and her heartbeat sped up a bit. She hadn't said a word to Zevran since the night before, he didn't try to talk to her either. It was tense and she almost regretted sparing his life.
As they finally entered the bustling market place she made her way to a nearby vendor, quickly purchasing a few injury kits and healing her injured wrist quickly. It still throbbed, but immediantly the swelling began to go down, the deep bruise fading. She sighed in relief before taking out the map she had gotten from the Arl, it held the address of Brother Genetivi. The sun was beginning to set, vendors were putting their wares away and children ran home for supper. In the distance she saw a guard sneak off with a whore and suddenly felt as though she was home.
Genetivi's small house was in a neighborhood nearest to the market. It was nearly dark by the time they got to the opening of the street, a hand shot out from the darkness and grabbed her shoulder. She cried out in shock and dipped into a crouch, daggers drawn and eyes searching and adjusting to the darkness. There was a soldier standing before her, a man that could not have been older than 40, with a nice mustache and graying hair. He stood straight, looking at her with mild confusion, as though he was trying to place her face.
"You...I saw you in the battle. One of Duncan's Grey Wardens." She stood with her eyes still narrowed, not putting her weapons away. The man then sneered at her, his voice raised. "I lost good friends in that battle. And King Cailan was a good man. I demand satisfaction, ser!" Lights from within nearby houses turned on, women peaking open their curtains to see what the noise was.
"Loghain is responsible for the King's death." She said, her voice was flat and uninterested, as though she had explained it a thousand times. The man took a step forward, almost threateningly. Zevran was flipping a dagger around his knuckle and between his fingers in no time. She smirked, unafraid of the man.
"Teryn Loghain is a war hero! How dare you."
Karleigh sighed, placing her hand over her forehead. "Think about it, why would the Grey Wardens do anything that could help the darkspawn?" The man looked as though he was about to shout something back to her but stopped, thinking. It was almost comical. She looked over at her companion and saw that Morrigan had a cruel half smile on her face. What Karleigh assumed was her version of a laugh.
"I can not protest your logic..and I can not duel someone who may be innocent. But take care, Warden. I shall come back if I find proof..and you best not be here." He walked away an into the nearest pub. She though she heard Zevran mutter a few words in his native language obviously curses, but she couldn't begin to guess what they mean't.
It hadn't taken long to find Genetivi's house. It was dark, torches and oil lamps outside of people's home were the only signs of life. Karleigh squared her shoulders and knocked she could hear movement inside, as though someone was pacing.
"Hello? Is someone home?" The footsteps froze and finally approached the door. A man in his mid thirties towered over her. She made a small coughing noise.
"Is this the house of Brother Genetivi? I have need to speak to him. "
"Who is it?"
"..Who wants to know." The man looked conflicted. Allistair stepped forward, his armor reflecting both moon and fire light. His sword was tucked nicely at his side, gauntlets resting over the hilt. The man's mousy black eyes looked them over before he opened the door and stood aside, allowing them to come in. Karleigh entered first, eyes searching around the residence. Nothing seemed to be out of place, a book sat on the table and she wandered closer to look at the title. The History of the Chantry, vol 1 . She sighed and turned back.
"What is that smell?" She asked. It was musky and unpleasant. Familiar, but covered with a heavy layer of incense She looked to Morrigan and saw she was communicating with Zevran. They knew something but was unable to say so.
"Just something new I picked up at the market earlier. I'm not too sure if I like it or not." He stood by a painting, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am Weylan, Brother Genetivi's assistant. "
"What do you know of the Urn of Sacred Ashes?" She asked.
"I know he was searching for it, but had not found any trace. Before he left he told me he was staying in an inn by Lake Calenhad."
"He didn't have any leads? You're sure?" The man seemed to twitch a bit under her gaze, she was unsure if she was imagining sweat forming on his brow.
"No! All I found out by looking through his research was that he was staying in an inn." He was looking around the room. Karleigh drew out her dagger, letting the light play on its smooth surface. She could catch the sparkle of a bead of sweat that developed on his brow. His breathing picked up and eyes dilated. She knew he was lying..
"You just said he told you before he left." The man jumped.
"He did! It was just in his research too." He reminded her of Soris when he was younger, she realized. At times her cousin would try to lie to her and fail miserably.
"I think youre lying to me..." She warned, icy eyes narrowed.
"I'm not lying. Brother Genitivi told us-"
"Us?"
"-ME! He told me..." The man's shoulder's slumped as he gave up. A cool air washed over him and he straightened back up. No longer the cowering assistant that had been there a few moments before. "Why do I keep up this charade?" His accent was unpleasant, snooty. It had a touch of Orlesian in it. "I gave you a chance to turn away and forget you ever heard about the Urn...Now it's too late." He had a knife in his hand that must have been hidden under his sleeve and rushed her.
Karleigh didn't have time to dodge him and he slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. She could feel the cold metal trying to break through her leather armor before Allistair grabbed the man by the collar and tossed him across the room. He hid the wall with a thud, he was still conscious and trying to move forward. He didn't get far before Zevran's dagger was sticking out of his neck and he collapsed forward, gurgling.
Allistair was asking if she was ok, but she pushed away, sinking her own blade through his heart and killing him. She wanted to retch. She couldn't stare at the body anymore and looked over at Zevran. His face was bored, as though it was no large task to kill something. Karleigh thought it unfair. She glared at Zevran and grabbed his sleeve, motioning for him to follow her into the other room of the house. He did, obediently The others searched the house for any signs of who the intruder could have been. When she peaked into the bedroom she could see a body, rotting where it fell.
"That explains the smell at least." She muttered. She turned to Zevran, her tone agitated. "Care to answer some questions?" It was the first time she's spoken to him all day, well aside from barking commands at them during fights. If he was bothered by her tone, he didn't show it. He merely leaned his hip against the door frame.
"By all means!" He gestured for her to continue. She wondered how he could be so calm. He had just sunk a blade through someone's neck and that didn't seem to bother him at all. She figured it was because of all the people he had killed.
"What does it take to become an assassin?" She asked. Her voice was softer now, less steessed and more conversational. Zevran whistled,one of his tanned hands coming up to push a strand of his hair behind pointy ears.
"That is a complicated question. " He said, his tone was jesting.
"We'll stay here tonight, it should be safe enough...So I have time."
"Well in that case we should make ourselves comfortable, yes?" He pulled a chair from the its place before the desk, where pages from books had been torn out and were laying in stacks and piles. Zevran straddled the chair, his arms resting on the back. "The Crows would have you believe it is an involved process that takes years of training. The sort that tests both your resolve and endurance." His voice alluded to harsh trials and grand adventures, the types she used to love reading about when she was a child. Against herself, Karleigh sat on the bed across from him, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them as she listened.
" ...Survive that process and maybe, just maybe you are good enough to become one of them." She met his eyes, they were slightly dilated and the dim light made cause them to look more brown than golden or green. He gave her a smile, how did he do it? Part of her didn't trust how held together he was. She was flawed with many cracks ever since that day that she was taken to the Arl of Denerim's manor.."But quite frankly the truth is that all it requires is the desire to kill someone for a 's surprising how well one can do in such a field."
Her father had taken her to the Chantry often when she was a child. She had grown up learning that she needed to know how to defend herself, but the thought about killing someone still made her feel ill. It was a disadvantage considering that she was a Grey Warden. They were more about taint and death than anything else, and she was growing weary of vomiting once the battles were over.
"So you have to be a murderer?"Her tone was questioning.
"Now, now it need not be thought of so crudely. We all do our share of murdering around here, don't we?" She was silent, her face heating. " An assassin merely specializes in striking from stealth. ..and in maximizing the first attack to be as lethal as possible. Debilitate your foe, either by poison or crippling their limbs, makes any follow up combat just that much simpler." She found herself nodding along to what he said, as though she was learning something important.
She realized he was waiting for her to say something. Karleigh tried to think of something clever but only managed, "That sounds like it could be useful."
Zevran smiled, truly seeing that she was not repulsed. It had all seemed like common sense to him but in his travels away from Antiva he found that assassins were far less accepted and not much was known about them in Ferelden. "See? Getting paid for the act is beside the point. An assassin is more a tactical choice than a lifestyle."
"Of course the Crows like to pretend their abilities are trade secrets,shrouded in shadow and wrapped in a blanket of mystery. So lets just keep this between you and me, shall we?" She found herself staring at him and blinked, blushing.
"Zevran.."
"Yes? Why do you look at me in such way?" He was wary now, turning to look into the small hand mirror that was kept on the desk, it ornate and silver and her fingers itched to take it from him and slide it into the beated pack she had bought back in Ostegar. "Do I have something in my teeth?" She giggled and he looked back at her as though she had surprised him, eyes wide. Though, for all her efforts she could not stop laughing. He had been making such faces into the mirror!
"You have a beautiful way with words." She smiled, wiping away some tears that had escaped her eyes. " Are you sure you aren't a bard?" She leaned back against the bad, not having been on something so luxerious, she had been sleeping on bed mats since she joined the Grey Wardens. Even before that, her bed back in the Alienage was little more than straw tossed into a broken down matress. She had small scars where springs broke through the fabric and stabbed at her.
Zevran was incredulous, sitting up straight he glared at her a bit now, though there was no force behind it. "What? Do not mock me!"
"I am not!" She protested, glad Leliana was not there. "There is nothing wrong with being a bard."
It was Zevran's turn to chuckle now. "Are you so sure? Think of the bards you know..." Yes, definitly glad Leliana wasn't here. She blushed, thinking about how crazy the girl was with her speeches of the maker. Though her beauty did help make up for it, and the beautiful way she told stories.
"Ok, maybe you're right. " He looked triumphant sitting up straighter. Allistair's large frame cast shadows across the floor from the doorway. She could see why people on the battlefield were intimidated, he was nearly as tall as Sten. All legs and layers of muscle. "Yes?" She asked. He was looking at her oddly.
"I thought I heard a weird squeaking and thought I would stop you from torturing that poor mouse." She flushed and looked away. Allistair laughed good naturedly. "But no, I came to see if we were going to go to Haven or going to stay here for the night?"
"Why would we go to Haven? Where is Haven?" She sat up, leaning towards him.
"It's a small town south of Redcliffe, it will take another few weeks journey. It's going to be bloody freezing." He didn't look to happy.
"But why would we go to Haven." She stressed.
"Oh, yes, that. Well Morrigan was looking around the place and found a half burned letter, it made it seem as though Genetivi was going there. It was signed by him, I guess it was for the real Weyln and he burned it if he knew someone was coming for him. " Allistair explained.
"Ok, well, I suppose we don't have much time to waste." She tried to stop the disappointment from showing in her voice. No fluffy bed, no going to see Soris and Shianni. She reluctantly stood. Zevran, seeing her expression thought it best to slip out of the room.
"I had another question." Allistair said after the shorter mand squeezed around him and into the dining room.
"Hm?" She asked, looking up at his green eyes. Now that she knew he was related to Cailen she could see the traces of the king in him. The same cheek bones, but Allistair was rougher, bulkier. Though they were both kind to her.
"I wanted to ask about Goldanna.."
"Oh! Right. Allistair..-" She felt horrible. She had promised him they would stop by her house. If Zevran hadn't have stopped them and caused them to waist a day they would have been able to..She was abruptly angry. Sighing, she pressed her palm to her forehead, smoothing the lines that would surely develop between her eyebrows.
"Look, Allistair-" He raised his hands to stop her.
"No, no, I was going to say maybe we should wait awhile before I go to see her. I honestly hadn't been expecting you to agree to it..." She nodded, a small hand placed against his arm.
"I really am sorry." His face softened at her comfort, one of his own hands closed over hers. They covered her's completely and had dirt and blood crusted under the nail from the earlier day's battle. "We shall rest here tonight, and take leave for Haven first think in the morning. It would be nice to sleep inside. And oh, Allistair the bed is so soft!" She gushed. The tall man chuckled and sat next to her, making her bounce a little. She giggled like a little girl, and layed back, making a soft thump against the covers.
"I suppose since we are staying here tonight we won't need to set up a watch. There is a spare bedroom, and Morrigan has taken to one of the chairs in the sitting room...I suppose you'll want the assassin with you tonight?" She bristled at the implication and glared at him. Allistair chuckled and raised his hands.
"I meant so he doesn't try anything. please don't kill me!" Karleigh sighed and settled for punching him in the arm. Allistair pretended to rub the spot she hit him. She stood and stretched, turning back to him.
"I'm going to draw a bath, Maker knows I need one." She said, finally relaxing. Tomorrow they would journey to Haven and continue searching for the urn. But tonight she would have a bath, maybe steal some of the food from the man's pantry and go to sleep in one of the softest beds she's ever felt, full and clean. A grin threatened to split her face in half, she would learn to cherish these moments..because there were so few.