Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do NOT own any of the characters or rights to the Dragon Age series.

A/N: Another one? It didn't take me a year to upload again? Strange. I swear I'm working on this. Anyway, this is yet another piece of the "chronicle" of the relationship between the Warden and Sten. Will you ever find out her first name, I wonder? I don't know. They tend to do what they want. This one is a little different from how it actually happened because I don't exactly remember the conversations. So, please don't judge.

Enjoy~~

Chapter 2

They had stopped by a river for a moment to rest and recuperate, more for the benefit of the Templar. Sten and the Warden had spent their entire lives trekking through the rough terrain of forests; their bodies were used to the stress of traveling with minimal rest. But the Templar's wasn't. Sten would never understand why she coddled him so. The Bas Saarebas called Wynne had said that the Warden and Alistair had something special, but that was not the story the unfolded before the Qunari's eyes. The Warden seemed flattered, but unimpressed by the Templar's advances.

"You never did tell me what you were doing in that cage, Sten," the Warden stated, plopping down on the ground next to him. She was cleaning her blade, again. Every time they stopped, she paused to make sure everything was in order. She offered him her leather canteen amiably and pulled her bread out to share as well.

He took the offered food and nodded gratefully. "Sitting, as you observed," he ripped a part of the bread off and took a cut of the cheese that was now being passed around.

"Very funny," the Warden chuckled gently. She bumped him softly, taking a small bite from her bread.

To say that he was shocked was an understatement. Most humans were unable to recognize when he was making a jest. They always assumed that he was serious. "Thank you."

There was a small blush that erupted on her cheeks again, but this time she looked down at the ground like it had offended her. "Seriously. Why were you in the cage?," the Warden's voice was wrought with her curiosity, a slightly worried look in her eye. Despite his protests when he was recruited, the Warden had made sure that he was completely healthy. She would never admit it, but he could see that she was worried.

"I put myself there. A weak mind is a strong foe."

Confusion passed her face and she chewed on her bottom lip, thinking for a moment. It was an endearing look on her, she looked so innocent. This called to something in him, the animal that was in all Qunari. "What exactly do you mean by a weak mind?," she asked, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

"It is quite the story. Are you sure you wish to hear it?," he asked, standing to face her.

Sten was pleased by the moment she took to consider what she was going to say. The Warden was a smart young woman and was nothing, if not reasonable. "Judging by the way Alistair is limping around, I say we have plenty of time before we can move," she nodded, leaning back against a large rock.

Sten nodded lightly and leaned against the rock next to her to tell his story. He was sent with his beresaad to answer the Arishok's question. They were attacked by darkspawn, and during the battle he was rendered unconscious. When he awoke, his comrades were dead and his sword, Asala, was gone. Out of panic from losing his sword, he murdered the farming family who had rescued him. Once he fully came to his senses, he realized that because of what crimes he had committed. He had lost his honor and so he chose to remain to seek penance for his crime. Days later he was arrested by Templars and brought to Lothering, where the Revered Mother sentenced him to die in the cage.

"That sounds like what happened to me at Ostagar," the Warden said, picking at the bread and throwing it to the birds. "Did you believe the farmers?," she asked, her legs crossing as much as her drakeskin armor would allow.

"I did. They had no reason to lie to me."

"Then you must have dropped it on the battle field when you were struck down," she reasoned, surprisingly stoically.

The Qunari's brow furrowed. While it was true that this bas lived in a different culture than the other Fereldens, he had not expected her to be so nonchalant about this sort of thing. "I murdered an entire family of bas and you seemed unfazed by this," he noted.

The Warden smiled and chuckled, "I've seen this before. Some of our hunters are found after a bear attack. Their bodies shut down so as to preserve energy. Until they are healed, they are held in a comatose state, suspended in time. They have no idea that any time has passed. When they awake, they believe that they are still battling whatever animal felled them. It is not unusual for them to attack their healer."

"You know quite a bit about the medicinal practice to be a hunter."

"My guardian was a healer. Before I was old enough to hunt I spent time with her, helping in what little ways I could," she shrugged, "Now, why did you panic so badly when you found your weapon missing?"

"My blade was made for my hands alone. Without it I cannot return. Were I to return without it I would be killed on-sight. No Qunari would allow his blade to be taken while he was still breathing."

The Warden's head was slightly cocked, like she was thinking, "Well… Where did you face the darkspawn?"

"By an inn on Lake Calenhad."

"Don't worry, Sten, we'll find it," she whispered with an assuring little smile, patting his arm as she stood.

Sten stared down at the elven girl. Her beautiful face was shining up at him for a moment and there was that tension again. The air between them had become almost tangible. Her cheeks were flushed again, and her lips parted. This time, his hand brought itself up, his thumb and forefinger finding her chin and bringing it up. Her wide eyes were staring at his lips, a shining in them that he had not seen directed at him before. "L-,"

Once again, whatever tension was there had been loss when Alistair had stumbled around the corner. The elven woman quickly stepped away and bent down to pick her pack up. She was still blushing when she picked her cloak up and drew the hood. It was wintertime in the Brecilian forest and her armor provided little protection from the cold wind. The dark black cloak augmented her sneak skills, allowing her to come up behind her targets better, so she was not wearing it merely because she was cold. It was ridiculous, how cold he felt when she had moved away. He was Sten of the Beresaad, not some pining Ferelden schoolchild.

Still… He watched her cloaked form walk away wearily. He would slay the archdemon with his bare-hands to hold her again.

The Warden stared down at her gloved hands. She had not felt such an intense passion since Tamlen had… Well, she hadn't experienced such a thing since she was an apprentice. She stole a glance at the Qunari who was playing fetch with Aedan. What was it about him that set her off? His red eyes met hers for a moment and she turned her head, pointing down a path. "This way. I spotted werewolf tracks leading down this path," she ignored the slight groan from Alistair and trekked forward. She couldn't think about this now. She had to get to this Witherfang person.

A/N: Why the hell is Alistair so clumsy? Let them have their moment! It's like Sten is trying to say her name, but he always gets interrupted. :3

Hate it? Like it? Hate me for fucking what was said up so bad? Well, too bad. Still, I would love some criticism. These are just little things I jotted down when I wasn't paying attention in class, so they aren't too comprehensive. I may go back through and add more detail and crap later when I have the time. I'm still getting my Qunari phrases from here ( wiki/Qunlat ). I will start using more Elvhen terms when I'm going to do her perspective.

I really hope you liked it. 3

Love,

Ara ;o