Title: A Child Unexpected (Part 14)
Author: skybound2
Characters: Fem!City-Elf PC (Kallian Tabris), Sten, Zevran, Alistair, and Morrigan (the overall fic is Zevran/Tabris with Sten and some others tossed in. Liberally, at times. References Alistair/Tabris, Alistair/Anora, and Zevran/Other.)
Word Count: ~6000 this chapter (~60400 so far)
Rating: T
In this bit: Our family (and company) travel some more, and some discussion, and maybe realize a few things.
Spoilers: Through end game. References to a character/plot from "The Calling", and hints at "Dragon Age: Awakening" (though no real overt spoilers for either).
Author's Note: Wow. Okay folks. This is ALMOST it. There's an epilogue coming up after this part, though. (I know, I know, this chapter should have been the last, but then again, at one point I thought this entire story would only be eight chapters long. See how wrong I was? My apologies for the delay (again), I thought it'd be done earlier, but my muse had other ideas. Crazy-love and thanks to pennydreadful for the beta, who has made this chapter (and this whole story) ten times better than it would be.
Chapter 12
The Silent Plains: Twenty-five Months after the Fall of the Archdemon
Kallian's heart was beating against her ribs as she twisted away from her attacker, a hornless Tal'Vashoth; one of many in the band of highwaymen that had chosen to attack their group. The adrenaline threading through her veins helped to clear her senses, speeding her reflexes just enough to allow her to swing Keening out in an arc across the honor-less bastard's knees, knocking him to the ground with a resounding thud.
A moment later she was panting over his lifeless body as she pulled her off-hand blade from his chest; her left arm hung loosely at her side, the result of her shoulder having slipped from its place. Teeth embedded in her bottom lip, she wrenched it back into place with an all-too familiar sensation of pain. The wind blowing behind her carried the scent of dirt and blood. Without a thought, she thrust her blade backward, catching the human bandit off-guard in the stomach; his sword swung out wildly to block, but failed to do more than graze her shoulder. His body tumbled towards the ground, taking her, and her blade, with him.
Barely a breath of time passed before a shadow fell across her exposed back, highlighted by the noonday sun. With senses that neither time nor distance could dim, she knew that there was no chance for her to counter the blow from her off-balanced position. Her voice echoed across the clearing, "Shield!" She turned her head, and watched as the shadow moved, an oversized axe swinging up overhead, and the qunari wielding it coming into clear view, her sword-arm remaining stubbornly locked beneath the fallen body of the human she'd just killed. She yelled again then, louder, "SHIELD!"
For a split-second, her breath caught in her throat as she remembered that she was no longer fighting beside Alistair and his superb (though occasionally predictable) reflexes; and she feared that her call would be in vain. But as quickly as the doubt filled her mind, it was washed away with the slide of Declan's body across her line of vision, shield raised high, and head ducked down low - the loud clang of metal on metal ringing in her ears.
From beneath his shield, he met her gaze with a bright one of his own, mouth curling with that insufferable smile of his. "You bellowed, Commander?" Not waiting for her response, he pressed forward with the shield, running his opponent over with the weight behind the move, and following through with a sword to the gut.
She tipped her head to the side as she watched the maneuver. Maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea bringing him along. Sure, she had seen him in the training yards at the fortress, but she knew from experience that the differences between training and real battle were immense. Maybe he could be useful for more than just irritating her. "Not bad."
Smirk still in place, he bowed his head quickly. "Anything to save a damsel in distress."
He barked out a deep laugh at the warning glare she tossed him, not at all intimidated. She took it back. No amount of shield skills could cancel out how annoying he was; and that was that.
The sudden quiet around her finally penetrated her brain, and she twirled quickly on the spot, her eyes seeking out Zevran's form. She found him several feet away, his back to her as he stood over the body of one of the highwaymen; the length of his unsheathed blades glinting in the bright sun, looking as much a part of him as his own flesh.
She probably shouldn't have found the image of him as beautiful as she did, but it couldn't be helped. She swallowed as she watched him stretch out kinks from the fight, and then slid his blades into the straps crossed on his back.
A tap to her chin with a gauntlet clad hand brought her back to attention. She turned a scowl towards Declan, whose eyes were near to twinkling at her. "Best close your mouth, Commander, or you're liable to swallow flies."
Arrgh. She clenched her fists at her sides, and took a deep breathe to calm herself; ready to lay into him about respect and annoyance and obedience and all the other things that a good little Warden should be aware of. (Not that she had any room to talk.) But by the time she managed to open her mouth, he was already half-way across the field, helping Theodore and the remaining Warden in their party loot the felled bandits of any useful supplies. She took it all back. He was the single most annoying person that she had ever met.
Finally, her feet seemed to unroot themselves from the ground and she made her way to Zevran at a jog. Eyes darted to the rocky area beyond the highway, a kernel of unease tightening in her belly. Her breathing came heavily. "Adaia?"
Zevran turned to her, his head tilted in the direction of the outcroppings past the road. She watched his features smooth as he looked at her, the affect of the sun glinting off his hair was remarkable - made him look boyish, innocent. "With the hound, as usual. She's safe."
The tension unraveled within her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She nodded before breaking off in a run towards the rocks, calling for the hound and her wayward child.
Traveling on horseback with a toddler, a mabari, and Declan in tow was possibly the single most frustrating event that Kallian had ever experienced. It never seemed to matter which horse Adaia was saddled on, she always wanted to be swapped over to someone else's. The toddler had even tried to saddle the poor hound and ride the beast alongside the group.
Kallian had finally let her have her way after the third attempt, when the pair had tumbled off the path and into a nearby stream. It was just easier to confine the sludge that way. The little girl was light enough to barely register with the mabari, despite her strong grip on his short fur.
And when the first sad little attempt to overrun their group came in the form of a rag-tag team of highwaymen weeks before, it turned out to have been a good decision. Kallian had no doubt that the hound would guard Adaia with his life, and they'd been able to send the two off into hiding while they'd dealt with the attackers. Kallian had found the two beside yet another stream, attempting to catch fish. The mabari, of course, had marginally more success than the little girl, but not for lack of trying.
The Wardens, along with Zevran and Adaia, had been attacked twice more since then. And each time the hound had been charged with protecting the girl. The further south they moved, the braver (or idiotic) the bandits became. The group they had encountered this time had been significantly more adept at their craft, namely, thieving and bashing.
They were still piss-poor at it though.
As she scooped her giggling daughter from beneath a dry bush, a tattered doll in her clutches, and a slobbering mabari lying at her feet, Kallian couldn't help but be grateful that all they had run into so far had been surface dwellers.
She dreaded the idea of her little girl ever coming face to face with a darkspawn.
That was why she was doing this after all: to keep her family safe.
She spied her companions picking up the last bits and baubles of interest from the fallen, and dragging the bodies off of the main road. Even from this distance, Zevran managed to catch her eye, a smile on his face for her, and a tip of an imaginary hat for their waving daughter.
Resolve solidified like stone in her soul. She'd keep them safe. All of them.
The Free Marches: Twenty-six Months after the Fall of the Archdemon
"Shhh, little one. We're going to practice what I taught you now, okay?" Zevran pointed to the shadows eclipsing the overgrown brush from where they were crouched. His daughter nodded, eager, wrapping her tiny fingers around his hand and following him into the shadows with nary a sound. He rewarded her with a kiss to the head, and a place to sit on his bent knee. She really was still just a little thing, and growing more stable on her feet every day, but it was best if she stayed by him for now.
Zevran did his best to not fluff up with pride at the knowledge that she seemed to be thriving under his influence. Her mother might not approve of his teaching Adaia rope-work, or poison making (yet), but she could not keep him from teaching her how to move unseen. It was too integral a part of his personality, and not something that he could - or would - turn off. And, as luck would have it, it seemed that Adaia had inherited some of that natural grace from him. Now, it just needed to be honed.
The first challenge being to get her to remain in one place for longer than five minutes without distraction; they'd managed two minutes so far. It was a work in progress, but, she was still young, so there was plenty of time to work on that. Along with everything else.
It gave him a thrill to think of all the things that he could teach her over the coming years. A warm, tingling sensation that spread out all through his limbs, until he felt...happy.
It was an intriguing feeling.
Zevran shook his head, dispelling the thoughts, and focused on their prey. Beyond the shadows, past the underbrush, and down in the vale below, stood their quarry. One, dark-haired, elven warrior and her second-in-command. Arguing - as usual. Or rather, she was arguing, and he was riling her up.
Zevran quite liked the man. It made for a fine change of pace, being the one that Kallian turned to for reassurance when her sanity was fraying at the edges, being just a hairsbreadth away from lashing out with both swords. There was nothing quite like the fire that would flash in her eyes, her whole body vibrating with indignation. It had been a constant source of both amusement and arousal for him when they had traveled together during the Blight. But he enjoyed it more now, when she would stalk towards him after a particularly vitriolic debate with Declan, fists clenched by her sides, only to deflate with a single touch of his hand along her spine. He liked how she would lean into him, eyes fluttered closed and breath coming in steady intakes, seeming to find some peace.
Liked how quickly he could calm that fire, knowing that once the sunset, he could (and often would) just as easily bring her back up to a boil - for entirely different reasons.
Yes, he liked that much more.
In fact, he liked it so much that he would gladly have invited the other man along for a night or three, if only to experience what would certainly have been an explosive charge from the woman between them. But alas, Kallian was...resistant to that idea. Though, the last time he'd brought it up, he'd only received a snort and deliciously pink cheeks instead of the all out growls from before. A smile had bloomed on his face; he could work with that.
"Why can't you just leave it? It has nothing to do with you-" Kallian's voice tipped into that cool, near-growl that she reserved for those irritations she couldn't walk away from; Zevran was intimately familiar with the sound.
"On that, I am afraid, we have to disagree, Commander." The emphasis Declan placed on her new title was just this side of teasing, with only a hint of sarcasm, and Kallian bristled at its use. Zevran had to give the man credit; he was good. "Any distraction from the mission at hand does concern me, and all the citizens of Thedas. We need your head in this, and not floating somewhere over Denerim." Light flickered through the leaves, shining down on the man by the bank; dark hair a mess upon his head, and lips pulled down in a half-scowl; shoulders and one foot pressed against a tree, looking completely at ease. "You asked me to be your second, did you not? Do not discount my advice out of hand, simply because you don't want to hear it."
"I'm not discounting your advice, Declan. Not at all. I'm just - I don't know how to go about this sort of thing. I'm no good at it." The voice that carried so clearly across the breeze sounded resigned, tired. And it immediately peeked Zevran's interest. A slight shift in position allowed him to keep Adaia tight to his side where she sat on his lap, while still affording him a view of the proceedings some feet away.
Kallian was pacing, one hand running through her hair, roughing up the knot that held it tight to the nape of her neck. The urge to draw the tip of a feather down that exposed bit of flesh struck him, and he filed it away for later.
"Then you will speak with him?"
"And say what?"
Zevran felt Adaia digging around in his pockets, but let her be. At least she was no longer going for his knives; he had no interest in a repeat of the lecture he'd received for that one. It had been a very cold and lonely three nights. He tried to focus on the conversation up ahead; it was just getting interesting after all.
"Pa-pa?"
"Hmm?"
"Wassdis?"
Zevran dragged his eyes from the scene still unfolding in front of him, and turned to his daughter's curious, upturned face. In her hands she held one solitary earring. A small thing, but it looked so large in her tiny hand. He swept the tip of his finger over it, admiring how it shone, even in the shadows. "A gift. For Mama."
Her face lit up at his response, her wide smile brightening the shadows even further. She made as if to climb from his lap, but he held her fast. "Give now?"
"Not yet, sweet. Soon though." He swept the object back into his hands, dropping it into an interior pocket, and showed the newly empty palms to his daughter with a slight flourish, she giggled, and snuggled against his side, and he took a moment to inhale her sweet scent.
The argument by the river was trailing off into more earnest discussion, the pair's voices harder to discern with every passing second, but the strain on Kallian's brow became all the more prominent for it. Doubly so when Declan made the miscalculation of laying a supportive hand on her shoulder, only to have her fling it off.
So focused was Zevran on trying to tease out the fleeting bits of words that were spoke, he nearly missed his daughter's tiny fists tugging at his collar. Zevran glanced back up to the still arguing pair by the bank, the lines of conversation hopelessly lost to him now.
Adaia squirmed where she sat, turning wide eyes up to him. "Pa-pa?"
"Sì, mi bambina?"
"Gotta go."
Zevran arched a brow, affection filling him. "Truly? And where is it that you plan to go?"
In response, she squirmed a bit more in his lap, one little fist reaching down to tug on her pantaloons. The action brought realization to the front of his mind. "Oh. Oh! Well then - ah." He stood swiftly, bringing her to a comfortable position on his hip, and made his way back through the brush to the camp, and the area set aside as a latrine.
He had a feeling that another milestone in his life had just been reached; where spying took second place behind helping his daughter learn to not soil her pants.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
Ostwick: Twenty-seven Months after the Fall of the Archdemon
It had been decided, quite without Kallian's input, that their little traveling band of misfits would head down to the port town of Ostwick from Weisshaupt. And that from there, they would board two separate vessels. Those moving along to Amaranthine, with Kallian, would go on one ship, while the rest would take a boat bound for Denerim.
Between the four-legged neighing monstrosities, and the promise of the floating nausea-inducing vessels to come, Kallian was beside herself with the annoyance of this trip. At least it had the benefit of efficiency. The damnable horses had allowed them to cover much more ground than otherwise, and after the first few weeks, she found that she no longer despised riding with quite the same passion as she once had.
She still hated ships though.
They were but a half-day's journey from Ostwick when they were forced to break and set up camp. The nights were growing ever longer as winter settled in, and it was getting more difficult to cover ground. With a good deal of reluctance, they were setting up their tents for another chilly night spent on the ground, despite the promise of warm beds so close at hand.
Not that her own tent had ever been cold, Zevran had made absolutely no pretense of sleeping in his own tent at any point during their travel. And, aside from the knowing looks that Declan would shoot her way whenever he had the chance, she was grateful. She had not wanted to admit how used to Zevran she had grown during their weeks at the fortress. How calming she found his breath against her hair at night. And having him so near was worth ever smug smile she had to put up with from the Orlesian ass in their midst.
It was even worth the fairly regular arguments said ass insisted upon having with her. He'd gotten it in his head that the only way she'd be able to function as Commander and Arlessa in Amarathine was if she confessed her feelings to Zevran; and had taken it on himself to force the issue as often, and in as many annoying ways, as possible.
Lately though, with her departure from both Adaia and Zevran fast creeping up, she'd begun to see his point. Though Maker only knew how she was supposed to go about something like that. It wasn't as if she had much experience in this area. The last man that she confessed feeling anything for, well, that hadn't turned out so well.
And it wasn't as though Zevran had said anything either. He seemed perfectly content with their current situation, whatever it was. He doted on Adaia, teased Theodore mercilessly, and bedded down with her at night.
It had gone on so long that she felt at ease with it all. It felt...normal. And she was loathe to do anything that might upset the balance. And that, more than anything, made her angry. She hated feeling like a coward.
If Sten were here, he'd scoff at her, and tell her that balance couldn't exist if she wasn't honest with herself, and that being brave didn't mean being fearless. Then he would sit and wait for her to figure it out. The Smith might have a few more words to say to her, and she was certain he'd make some comparison to swords and metalworking, but the end result would be the same.
Namely, to get off her rear and make a decision.
Oh, but she missed them. She made a promise to herself to send a letter Sten's way, with a note for the Smith, before they left port in the morning. In the meantime, she would just have to let go of her confusion long enough to enjoy her last night, for what could be many months, with Zevran and Adaia.
~~~\/~~~
Sleeping in the same tent with Zevran while their daughter was laying along her other side was an exercise in frustration and restraint. For that reason, most nights Zevran had continued to set up his own tent, allowing them a place to sneak off to, on the occasions when they grew...restless enough to let the mabari guard Adaia for them.
Tonight was not one of those nights, however, as Adaia had proved restless, and unwilling to sleep without the two of them near her. And, to be fair, Kallian didn't want her far from her side either, seeing as how it could be quite some time before she saw her daughter again. (She refused to acknowledge the voice in her head that warned her that this could very well be the last night she'd have with her child. There was just no way that Kallian was going to let some darkspawn come between her and her family.)
Eventually, Adaia had slipped off to sleep, snuggled down by Kallian's hips, allowing just enough room for Zevran to pull Kallian's upper body close to his, one arm wrapped underneath her shoulder, so that she could pillow her head on his; an awkward, but not unpleasant, position.
"Tell me a story." Kallian trailed her fingers in idle circles along his chest, enjoying the slight twitch of the firm muscles buried beneath his smooth skin.
The hand at her shoulder paused in its movement for a moment, a soft tickling brush of his skin against hers. "A story? Perhaps you have mistaken me for the lovely Leliana? Would you prefer it if I dyed my hair red, and sprouted a firm bosom?"
"Hardly. And don't pretend that you don't love spinning tales, I couldn't get you to shut up during the Blight."
The firm pressure of rough, callused fingertips skirting at the edge of her sleeping britches threatened to call her attention away to less innocent past-times. As did the hungry look upon Zevran's face as he took her in. "Mmm, but I was denied the much more...pleasurable alternative of ravishing you at the time. A man must find ways to distract himself, least he be run-through by angry templars in the night."
"Oh, I see. So all those lovely tales of yours, they were just told to help cool your raging libido?"
His eyebrows wiggled in unison as a lascivious smile spread across his mouth. His voice, dipped down low. "More or less."
There was a tug in her belly at that look, at that voice, and her mouth gravitated towards his, out of her control. Wanting to ply his lips apart with her own. It was only the slight snuffle from Adaia by her hip that managed to stall her movements, and let her settle back down against his arm, eyes open and waiting for him. Waiting for any morsel of a story that he was willing to provide. Anything to distract her from their inevitable parting, and her still uncertain feelings.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I was hired out to a second tier Madam? Specifically, she was having a problem with a pair of dwarven thugs who had managed to clear out her coin stores. Fortunately for me, she was willing to negotiate payment in trade-"
"Zevran!" Mindful of Adaia, sleeping by her side, she avoided raising her voice, and instead whacked him lightly across the chest. "That is not the sort of story I was hoping for." She lifted her gaze to his, hoping he could read the good humor on her face.
"Ahh, well, perhaps you should have been more specific, yes? Hmmm. I could tell you about this warrior I once knew. Wicked with a blade, but just as deadly with words."
She smiled, and snuggled her head back down onto his shoulder. "And how did you meet this wicked warrior? Where you given a contract on their life?"
"But of course! I'd hope you'd know me well enough by now to realize that my methods of meeting new, and interesting people are fairly limited. Since you have already effectively shot down my telling any stories involving sex…" There was a quiet growl in the tent. And since her mabari was sleeping outside, Kallian assumed that it must have come from her. "…then that leaves assassinations as my only option, no? Or are you about to take those off the table as well?"
She shook her head, and he continued. "Good. As I was saying, this warrior was particularly...brutal with words. Without even realizing it, I believe. And that is separate from the fact that she foiled my assassination attempt."
Kallian couldn't help it; she scoffed. "Does that happen to you a lot?"
Zevran didn't answer for several, drawn-out moments, his previously jolly voice suddenly somber. "No. It happened less often than you may think. But she – she was special. And even after my failed attempt at murdering her, she offered her hand in friendship. In a way that no one ever had before."
The air was thick in Kallian's voice when she spoke, her mind's eye narrowing down onto the obvious. "Zevran-"
"Come now, Warden. Do you wish to hear my tale or not?"
"I – sorry. Yes. Please."
"Hmm. Now where was I? Ah, yes. She invited me to join with her, and her group. Claimed that she was heading off on an epic battle to save all of Thedas. At first I saw it only as an opportunity to complete my mission. A mission I had never planned on completing in the first place, but since she had so spectacularly ruined my plan to die in glorious battle, I thought that fulfilling my contract would be the next best thing."
Zevran's hand continued to stroke the skin of Kallian's shoulder, but her own had stopped its ministrations upon his bare chest. She couldn't breathe as she waited for him to continue.
"And then, early one evening, only a few short days after we had met, I followed her from the camp to the small river nearby. It was her evening to wash the dishes you see? She was...a striking image: bathed in the moonlight, arms covered in suds with dirty bowls stacked in a pile by her feet, and swearing rather colorfully..."
As Zevran spoke, the memory began to play itself out, like a dream she had forgotten, right before her eyes.
He was absolutely silent as he approached; Kallian had to give him that. But either he was not as concerned with her knowing he was there as he could have been, or he was simply sloppy, for he was standing just slightly downwind, and he had still carried the stink of darkspawn blood on his clothes. "Zev, what is it you think you're doing?"
"What do you think it is that I am doing?" He stepped fully out of the woods and into her line of vision, a smile that she could only describe as predatory on his face.
"Stalking me, most likely."
"Stalking is such an ugly term. I prefer – hunting. It has a much less...conniving quality to it." He moved to the water's edge, but still kept his distance from her, those off-putting amber eyes of his locked on her.
"And you aim to be less conniving?"
"Hmm. It would be more accurate to say that I prefer to not be found behaving in a conniving manner."
"I believe that any chance you had at that dissolved the moment you accepted a contract on my life."
"Still so bitter? You wound me, my gorgeous leader. I thought that we had put all of that nastiness far, far behind us."
"It was three days ago, Zev."
"Ahh, so it was! But you have already taken to using my shortened name. Surely you must feel some sort of kinship with me?"
She blinked. She hadn't even noticed that she'd done that. It had just seemed...natural. Not that she was ever going to tell him that. "Kinship? Aside from the fact that you are the only other elf here? No, I think not. You have earned a reprieve only at this point, assassin. Killing a few darkspawn does not a redemption, make."
He clutched at his heart, as if he had been mortally wounded. "Such things you say! You will tear my heart out as certainly with your words as you could with your sword." He moved close, three short steps. "If you plan to be so cruel, do I not at least deserve the chance to..." He leaned forward, and picked up a lock of her hair, toying with it. When did she even let it down? She couldn't remember. "...convince you, how truly trustworthy I am?"
His lips were mere inches from hers. She had no plans to close the gap, however; though she was not above leading him to believe that she might – if only for a moment. She dropped her voice low, and fluttered her eyelashes in that way she had seen Leliana do when sweet-talking a merchant. "Tell you what, Zevran? You'll know when you've earned my trust: the next time I shorten your name." She watched as he blinked in surprise, and pulled back, allowing her enough breathing room to step out of his orbit.
She moved away from the water, leaving him standing alone by the dishes. "Oh, and Zevran? Once you are done with dishes, may I suggest a bath? Ode du darkspawn does not suit you."
The echo of his laughter followed her all the way back to camp.
Kallian kept her voice subdued, quiet – a direct counterpoint to her pounding heart, which she was certain he could hear, pressed close as they were. "And you actually did the dishes that night too. I admit, I was shocked."
His laugh was throaty, and kind. "I will choose to take that as a compliment, Warden. I consider it a success every time I manage to surprise you."
Seconds led into minutes, with only the slight rustling of the trees, and the crackling fire outside the tent breaking the silence. Zevran's breathing had taken on that slow and even quality she had come to recognize as meaning he was asleep. She brought the hand that was on his chest down to smooth the hair of Adaia's head – snuggled between them – and paused for a few moments to watch the small girl breath in and out, totally at peace where she lay.
When she chanced casting her eyes upward onto Zevran's sleeping face, she was helpless to the onslaught of emotions that hit her all at once. How had they made it to this point? Wrapped in each other's arms – their child between them? Their child.
At one point in her life that would have been enough to send her screaming into the hills. Maker knew that it had been enough to cause her to break down in poor Sten's arms. It had been enough to keep her feet firmly planted in Seheron soil, when she had only planned for a short visit in the first place.
And she had kept him from Adaia for so long. Kept him from seeing all of the earliest of her firsts, from the joy of knowing his daughter. And for what? She could barely remember her reasoning anymore. She deserved his hatred, his anger. Instead…she'd gotten his forgiveness.
She didn't know if she truly deserved it, but she knew now that she cared too much for him to simply turn it away. Cared for this man that had once been hired to kill her, and that she now couldn't imagine living without. Cared for this man..."You always surprise me, Zevran."
"Zev." Though his voice was muffled by her hair, where his mouth was nuzzling her, the word was clear. Kallian's heart skipped a beat at the sleepy sound of his voice.
"What?" There was a tremble in Kallian's body as she endeavored to keep her tone even, so difficult was it to keep her emotions in check.
He tugged away from her, only allowing enough space between them so that when his long-lashed eyes pulled open she found herself drowning in the startling amber that had always drawn her in. "My…friends, they call me Zev."
There had been a vice-grip on her heart, and she hadn't even realized it until those words released its hold. She closed her eyes on a sigh, a breath of air. "All right...Zev." If her voice shook on the words a bit, he did her the courtesy of not calling her out.
"Pleasant dreams, Kallian." There was the lightest of kisses against her brow, his breath hot against her skin. She leaned into it, wanting more. Wanted to brand the feel of him against her skin onto her soul.
This was love. How she could have ever doubted it, she didn't know. How she could have kept quiet about it for so long was another mystery. She wanted, no needed to tell him. Shout it from the top of mountains, declare it any way that she could; any way at all, as long as it was made a clear, unavoidable fact. She opened her eyes, parted her lips, prepared to speak, and found his lashes drawn down, breathing even and a peaceful look upon his face as he slept.
In the morning. She would tell him in the morning.
And then she would get on a boat, beat the tar out of some uppity darkspawn, and be on the next caravan back to Denerim to pick up her family.
That was all there was to it, darkspawn of the world: beware. She willed her racing heart to calm, willed her body to relax, and tried to fall into sleep.
But maybe first - first she would try it out. See how the words felt on her tongue, when he wasn't likely to hear, just in case it needed revisions, or...or something. A little whisper, four small words, strung together. Nothing to it.
As she spoke, the words tangled in the air, all run together, a living thing - and he heard. His eyes opened wide, and the hand at her shoulder clenched. His voice was thick, pitched low, and intoxicating, his forehead pressed to hers, and his free hand moving to the nape of her neck, and holding her in place, so that she couldn't turn from those eyes. "Say it again."
And she did. "I love you, Zev."
The kiss that he gave her was warm and hard. Tender and luscious. And every emotion she could imagine all rolled up into one action. It left her feeling heady, joyous. A joy that was magnified by the unexpected giggle down by her hip.
They broke apart, gazes turning to take in their newly awakened daughter, who was alternating giggles with kissy-faces at them, as she struggled to move further up their bodies, so that she could be right in the middle. Exactly where she should be. A connecting line between them, arms all wrapped together, and infectious laughter filling up the tent to the point that Kallian was certain they'd wake the whole camp.
Not that she really cared. For once, caught in the happiness that surrounded her, Kallian thought that everything was exactly as it should be.
~TBC in the Epilogue