Chapter 6: Sober
The arishok rose to his feet, and watched her, without a hint of embarrassment or shame. This was why she actually liked sparring with him—there was no expectation of an automatic win, or loss—though perhaps these emotions were hidden quite well. Something else seemed to be in his gaze, it was searching—for something.
"There is, another subject in which you could enlighten me, Warden." The arishok rumbled, and those silver pupils drew Kiera in without a pause. They were a most dazzling gleam in the darkness. Nothing quite as piercing as that which she saw in daylight. She had retrieved his weapons, and handed these to him with a smile that faltered, reminded about their last encounter.
"And that is?" She hoped that it had nothing to do with that subject on which they parted last—not again. At least, he did not appear in the least interested in walking towards the sleep-quarters.
The arishok sat on the stone steps that led up into the compound that Kiera knew as the barracks, and she followed suit, placing her blades next to her. The moon was high, tonight.
"Why have you come to the lands of the Qun?"
She had no ready reply. The best she could offer was that she had been curious, and she didn't particularly want to stay in Ferelden—but arishok would not be interested in her very many problems.
There was a long silence. "Did you wish to embrace the Qun?"
She cocked her head, thinking. It was true that she was searching for something. Purpose? Her duty with the Wardens was indeed quite similar to the roles the qunari had.
"If you insist on being unresponsive, Warden…" The arishok did not sigh like Sten would, but Kiera knew that she was trying his patience. It was something that bugged her—that she had no reason for why she was here.
"I think I liked our other discussion better," she mumbled. She hated being forced to face the reasons behind the decisions she made on the spur of the moment, hated being confronted with questions. It felt worse when someone like the arishok did the asking. She rubbed her face hard, obviously very ill at ease.
A smile seemed to accompany his next words. "The feeling is mutual." Yet another thing that nudged at her already sinking stomach—that the arishok would deign to act like such. It had to be unheard of.
"Why do you… entertain someone like me? With… such candidness?"
A sharp reply from him almost stopped her heart. "I do not entertain anyone."
Kiera cringed. Her unwise choice of words had riled him, and putting on her most placating expression, she turned, hoping to grovel—before seeing that strange light in his eyes. Was that actually amusement? Uncharacteristically, she threw back her head, and chortled, long and half-stifled, needing the release after days of being somewhat morose.
No one was going to believe that the arishok was bloody making fun of her.
xOxOx
The kadan had somehow, incurred the arishok's interest—leading to this foreign sight—a private meeting and sparring in the night-time, against all traditions and customs. Sten did not recall a second instance of anyone being admitted into a solitary audience with the leader of the Antaam, much less a scene of such apparent lightheartedness.
She was laughing, or was bent over, quite in pain, from where Sten was—shaking vigorously. He took steps in that direction, out of the shadows that had hidden him so far, before stopping himself with much determination. The arishok could not know that Sten was quite so obsessed with the kadan, to have forgone sleep, and made his way to the courtyard to speak to the female. Moreover, to find one such as her—so… engaged.
She had indeed, recovered from that bout of infirmity, but both her hands appeared to be clutching at the arishok's left arm, before managing to sit upright in her initial position. She did not appear to have noticed her transgression, nor was the arishok markedly affected.
Sten could not help but frown. What did this image mean? Had the kadan overstepped her boundaries by intruding on the arishok? Was the woman mad? Unwell? It was most perplexing to not being able to approach, or hear their apparent exchange of words from this distance.
P.S.: Sorry for leaving it this short, AND my horrible delay. I will endeavor in putting another chapter tomorrow, and I thought you'd prefer this now? If you don't, I apologise.
Still thanks to everyone who's reading, subscribing, reviewing! You have no idea how much I appreciate your thoughts!
*currently experiencing some major muse trouble—help is greatly needed, and will be thanked, most profusely, if rendered*