Wolf awoke with a pained groan when Anders returned the next morning. His neck was on fire from the uncomfortable position he had slept in. He glanced over at Delia, noting she'd barely moved since Anders put her to sleep.
"Is she all right?" he asked the mage anxiously.
Anders was sitting next to her on her bed, his fingers resting lightly on her pulse. "She's going to be fine. She just needs a few days of rest." He turned his squinty glare on Wolf. "So, um, thanks for watching her last night. We'll be sure and tell her you did, I'm sure she'll be grateful. But, you're exhausted and she needs to rest."
The meaning was clear, Wolf was being told to leave.
"No," Wolf said stubbornly. "I need to stay. I have to talk to her. To... apologize."
Anders sighed. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. Scram! Make yourself scarce. Get lost."
Varel walked into room to check on Delia and saw Anders glaring at Wolf and Wolf with his jaw set stubbornly. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?" he asked in his calm manner.
"He was just leaving," Anders said loudly.
"No, I wasn't actually. I was being told to leave." Wolf tried to keep his anger in check.
Varel sensed a rising tide of testosterone fueled posturing. "Okay. Wolf, why don't you join me for breakfast? We can catch up." He clapped Wolf on the back to show his approval to Anders. "Anders? Would you like to join us?"
Anders's glare reduced somewhat by Varel's apparent approval of the man. Wolf? What the hell sort of name is that? he thought. "No, thanks. I'll just check on the Commander."
Wolf turned to Varel reluctantly and left Delia's bedroom.
"Good bloody riddance," Anders murmured to the unconscious woman. "And what were you doing, Missy? Sneaking out of the Keep with that... reprobate? Wolf? Really? Some guy named Wolf?"
Delia stirred and her eyes fluttered open. "Anders?" she said, struggling to sit up. "Ow! Where..." she looked around, recognized her room. "How did I get here?"
"Don't get up yet," Anders put his hand on her shoulder and urged her to lay down again.
"It hurts to breathe," she complained.
"That's what happens when you take an arrow to the lung."
"An arrow?" she paused, thinking for a moment. Running to the horses. Something hit her hard. Then pain and... nothing. "Where's Wolf?" she said panic in her voice. "Is he all right?"
Anders grimaced. "Wolf... Wolf? Oh, the mangy creature in the mask that nearly got you killed last night?"
Delia struggled to rise again but Anders put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Where is he?" she tried to struggle against him, but she was too weak.
"He's about somewhere," Anders waved his hand dismissively. "But what you need to think about now is recovering and drinking this tasty potion." He held a cup up to her mouth that smelled like cow flatulence.
Delia made a face and pushed his hand away. "Ugh," she complained.
"Drink it!" Anders made a stern face at her and propped her up with pillows so she could drink it.
"I'll drink it if you get Wolf," she bargained.
"Maker's bloody breath, woman, you're obsessed. All right. Drink it down, and I'll get him."
Delia eyes squinted shut, and her face grew pinched as she brought the noxious smelling drink to her lips. She tossed it back quickly and swallowed, tears of revulsion squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. She shivered and suppressed a strong urge to gag.
"There! Not so bad was it?"
Delia glared at him. "Get Wolf!"
"I will. I didn't say when though," Anders replied with more cheek than usual.
"Now!" she said forcefully.
"Look, your strength is coming back already. Isn't that tonic wonderful?" Anders teased her.
Her look was deadly. She was fed up. She tossed her blankets off and sat up. Her breath hissed with the effort and pain as she swung her legs over the side of her bed.
"I'm going to cut you, mage," she mumbled, "just as soon as I can." She put her head in her hands, wishing everything would stop spinning.
"Okay Commander. You win. I'll go fetch your mangy friend. Just lay back down."
"Do it, Anders, or I'm going downstairs myself."
"I'm going! Wait. Put a shirt on first." Anders didn't like thinking of Wolf seeing her with just her breast band on.
"Armoire," she said.
He flung it open and found one of the cotton shirts she wore under her armor. "Here," he handed her the shirt. She tried to raise her arm to put it on but cried out in pain. "Let me," he said. He put it over her head and carefully slid her arms in.
She was so dizzy with the effort that she fell back into bed. Anders covered her up again.
"Get him," she said weakly.
"I'm going. I'm going," Anders replied, leaving her.
Wolf hardly touched his breakfast. He felt responsible for nearly getting Delia killed and that hurt on several levels. First of all, she and the Wardens were necessary to solving Amaranthine's crisis with the darkspawn. Secondly, and most ridiculously, he was in love with her. Why? he asked himself. I barely know her. Yes, there was something about her deadly grace and dark beauty that he found intoxicating. But when she had labeled the noble class a bunch of useless parasites, that was when he really knew. He shared her sentiment. It was ironic, of course, that she was now a noble, although she laughed at the label, and he had formerly been one, although he had been too young to remember.
Now he was terrified she'd reject him for the disaster he'd made out of their task last night. Even worse, he didn't know how she felt about the Antivan she had been sleeping with in Denerim. Maybe Wolf was just a lark on the side.
The mage interrupted his breakfast with Varel. "The Commander wishes to see you, Wolf," he said. "Why, I can't imagine," he grumbled, not quite under his breath.
Varel got up with him. "I'd better see if there's anything she needs," he said.
Both Varel and Anders walked with him to her room.
"Commander," Varel got to her first, "do you need anything? Can you eat something?"
"Some food and water would be good, thanks Varel." Normally Varel would have rushed off to seen to her needs, but he was hovering today. It was obvious they didn't trust Wolf.
"Thanks Anders, Varel. You can go," she said, hoping they'd obey for a change. Anders looked inclined to disobey but a guiding hand on his shoulder from Varel propelled him to the door.
"Close the door please, Wolf," Delia asked him. She realized this was the first time she'd ever seen him in the daylight without his mask. Her impressions from several evenings prior were accurate. He was extremely attractive.
Wolf closed the door and sat next to her on the bed. "How are you feeling?" he asked, unsure what to say to her.
"A little weak. I don't think I'll be dueling any Crows for awhile," she smiled wanly. She tried to sit up but gave up and laid down again with a moan.
Wolf gathered up pillows from around her room. He helped her sit and tucked the pillows in behind her to support her. "Better?" he asked.
"Much, thanks." She plucked at the fuzz on her blanket. "Are you all right?" she asked. It was odd, she hadn't been able to think of anything but him since she had awoken, now she couldn't figure out what to say.
"I'm fine. How much do you remember from last night?" he asked.
"I remember running for the woods," she said.
"You were shot in the back with an arrow. I rode with you back to the Keep. Unfortunately, I left your horse behind."
"And the Bann saw me," she said with a grimace.
Wolf shook his head, looking very sorrowful. "I'm sorry, Delia. This is all my fault. I never should've asked you to come along. You could have died."
"Thank the Maker I did go. Can you imagine trying to fight that Crow alone? He was a monster. He was better than me. Better than Zevran too, I think."
Wolf looked up, a surprised look on his face. "Zevran?"
Delia nodded. "My, as you said, Antivan paramour. He was a Crow assassin."
"Do you remember his last name?" Wolf asked.
"Of course, Zevran Arainai. Why?"
Wolf's face became blank. "Just trying to remember if I knew him."
Delia's forehead furrowed. Wolf wasn't telling her something.
"Can I ask you a personal question, Delia?" Wolf asked.
She took his hand in hers. His skin was a deep lovely brown, different from Zevran's. His was a natural pigment, Zevran's was dark from being in the sun. Wolf's arm was dusted with black hair, Zevran's with golden hairs. "Of course, anything. I think we're beyond secrets aren't we?"
"Do you love him?" Wolf said, his dark eyes held hers.
Delia sighed. "No. I don't love him. I could have gone to Antiva with him. I almost did but I didn't think it would work. I'm not really cut out to be an assassin. I couldn't kill people for money no matter how much I said his profession didn't bother me." She paused a moment and decided to tell more. "I wasn't sure what I was going to do after the blight was over. I think the Grey Wardens saved me a second time."
Wolf looked curiously at her. "How so?"
"I've been handed a script for everything I've done in my life. I always have acted my role. After the blight, there was no more script to follow. I floundered around without a purpose until, I think, my self-destruction became my new purpose. Then the Grey Wardens put me in charge of, well, everything. They were idiots for doing it, but it did give me a new script to follow."
Wolf leaned over and smoothed the hair back from her face. Her ebony eyes were ringed with dark circles. "I'm glad you didn't succeed with your self-destruction," he said gently.
"Maybe I did. Bann Esmerelle will probably petition the King to have me tried for murder and burglary or whatever she can come up with. Despite everything, I'm still an elf and that rubs nearly everyone wrong to have me in a position of power."
"I don't think you have anything to worry about there. I took the agreement that she was waving around. It was quite specific about how the Crows were to kill you, and it has her signature on it," Wolf smiled at her.
"Really?" she asked. "I didn't realize you picked it up."
There was a knock on the door and a serving girl brought in a tray with food and water. She set it beside the bed and left.
"Where's the agreement? I'd like to see it," she said.
Wolf looked at her a moment. He was concerned about her physical state and what an emotional shock would do to her. "I think Varel has it."
"We should send some troops to arrest the bitch. I just want to be there for that," she said, gloating a bit.
Wolf picked up a slice of bread and slathered it with butter and marmalade and handed it to her. "Eat something," he said.
She smiled. His nagging wasn't as irritating now as it was when she first met him. She nibbled on the bread, finding she had no real appetite. "I could really use some water," she said.
He poured her a glass. "There is one other thing I want to ask you, Delia."
"Anything," she said.
"May I court you?" he asked.
"Court me?" Delia cocked her head to the side. The concept was foreign to her. There were arranged marriages, of course, she had nearly ended up in one. Then there was taking a lover. "I don't understand."
"I, well, we haven't known each other very long and I wanted you to know my intentions are... honorable."
Delia was even more confused. Honorable intentions? She furrowed her forehead trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Why don't you just say exactly what you mean, because I'm not following you at all."
Wolf pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I mean that... damn it Delia, I care about you."
Delia smiled at him, but a doubt came to her. "I should warn you, if you think you're courting an Arlessa you're going to end up disappointed. I'm in charge but I don't own any of this. It isn't going to pass to my heirs, it belongs to the Grey Wardens. I spent most of my own money rebuilding this place. Any money that comes in goes back into rebuilding the Grey Wardens, the Keep, and doing what needs to be done for the arling. I'm not interested in being part of any sort of kleptocracy."
Wolf's sighed. "This isn't about wealth, Delia. If anything, my experiences with nobility have left me allergic to them. The sort of nobility you possess isn't anything that is inherited from your parents. Your concern for the people of Amaranthine and sense of fairness is the source of your nobility, not some ridiculous title."
He picked up her hand and kissed it. "You evaded my question. May I court you?"
Delia laughed. "It seems you already have been, even on the day we met and you demanded a kiss. Now you ask for permission?"
"It's my Rivaini upbringing. One asks a lady's permission before making too many presumptions."
Delia couldn't suppress the laughter. "I have been enjoying your presumptions, although I think I've made at least as many as you have. So, my answer is 'yes', you may court me."
Wolf leaned over her and kissed her gently, afraid of hurting her. Delia tried to raise her arms to put them around his neck but the pain was too much.
"Be careful, wolfling, you have some healing to do. And I think your mage will incinerate me if he thinks I've touched you in any way."
"What?" she asked.
"He didn't approve of me staying with you last night."
"You stayed with me? I don't remember anything."
"You woke up with a fever at one point, I think you were delirious. Unfortunately your mage overheard you babbling and assumed I was taking liberties."
"Oh no, what did I say?" she asked, dreading the answer.
"You probably don't want to know," he warned her. "I was very flattered with your attentions, however."
"So you stayed up all night, watching me?" Delia smiled.
"I dozed a bit, in that chair."
"You look exhausted," she said, noting the dark circles under his eyes. "Come on." She patted the bed next to her. "Take a nap with me, I could use one too."
Wolf shook his head. "I don't want to jostle you while you're in pain."
"A little jostling will be therapeutic, I assure you." She smiled. "Although not as much jostling as I would prefer," she added sadly.
Wolf smiled at her lewd joke. "And your mage won't incinerate me?"
"Well, if you lock the door, then he'll never be the wiser, will he?" she said.
Wolf's eyebrow lifted rakishly and he got up and locked her bedroom door. He hesitated when he returned to her bed.
Delia seemed to read his mind. "Get comfortable, Wolf. I don't think you usually sleep in your armor do you?"
"Er, no." He took off his leather armor, leaving on the light clothes he wore underneath. He felt a little embarrassed with Delia's gaze on him, although the little smile that played on her lips made him think she liked what she saw. He climbed into bed next to her, removed all the pillows propping her up, but one.
"Comfortable?" he asked her.
"More so if your arm is around me," she said.
They struggled for a few minutes, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't aggravate her injury. When they finally found it she sighed happily and fell asleep within minutes.
Wolf stayed awake slightly longer, looking down at the beautiful, injured elf in his arms. He wanted to protect her, make her happy, make a life with her. Their affection was so new and fragile, that is why he was afraid something from her past might destroy it. He knew he would have to tell her sometime but he selfishly wanted to push it away so he could have her without this specter from the past interfering.
He pushed her ebony hair away from her pale cheek and kissed her lightly so as not to awaken her. His eyes were sorrowful, fearing he would lose what he had so recently found. Delia's rhythmic breathing was hyponotic and exhaustion finally claimed him. He slept peacefully with the elf he loved in his arms.