Once back at camp for the night, Lyn heads over to her tent and pulls out her pen, ink and journal and settles into her routine of recapping the day's events on paper. A small ball of light hovers over her the shoulder, shedding light on the pages holding her entry from the night before. She can hear the others moving about the camp as they settle in for the night. Leilana is humming something as she repairs a ripped tunic. Shale and Sten are keeping watch and doing their best to ignore Oghren and Zev's swapping of dirty limericks. Wynne and Morrigan are minding the stew and Dane is waiting patiently, hoping they'll give him a snack. Laughter swells and echoes across the camp, warm from the belly laughter that instantly makes Lyn smile as she hears it. A glance across the fire reveals Alistair and Dean sitting on a log while cleansing their weapons of darkspawn blood. The firelight reflects off of their faces, both grinning, having evidently shared some great joke. If she didn't know any better she'd think they were twins, or at least brothers. They have the same smile that exudes boyish charm and lights up their eyes. Even their hair is the same style and close in color, Dean's being just a little darker than Alistair's.
"They're quite the pair aren't they?"
Leilana's thick orlesian accent comes from right beside Lyn, and she can't help but twitch in surprise. Damn bard, always walking so damn softly and sneaking up on people. Lyn casts a glance up at the redhead from her seat on the ground in front of her tent and shrugs.
"I suppose they are."
"Aren't you the lucky woman to have the attention of both?"
Lyn's logical brain completely misses the bard's suggestive tone again.
"I would hope they pay attention to me, I am the leader after all."
Leilana starts to say something but stops herself before a word actually leaves her lips. How can Lyn be so oblivious in these types of things and yet notice when an enemy so much as twitches? Even Morrigan can tell that both of Lyn's fellow Wardens have a thing for her, and the witch has almost no social skills. It's times like these that Leliana misses Orlais the most, at least there a lady knew when she was being courted.
"Stew is ready, come get it while it's hot!"
Everyone heeds Wynne's call and soon all, with the exception of Shale, are seated around the fire eating. Small talk is shared and occasionally someone cracks a joke, but what Dean really notices is how much it feels like being part of a large family. Every night has been like this. If it rains, everyone crams into Morrigan's little lean-to, if it's cold they huddle close together. He can't help but feel that this is what it should have felt like when he and Sam still had dad around. Amazingly Dean loves it here. No angels trying to end the world, just monsters that can be killed. Even the demons are easier to kill here, especially with Lyn around to use her magic.
As if she's read his mind, Lyn gives Dean an amused smile before turning back to her conversation with Sten. That smile makes Dean's palms sweaty, and he quickly turns his gaze back to the rest of his dinner. That first night with Vaelyn and her companions fills his mind again. His shock and disbelief that not only was magic everywhere, but that there were elves, dwarves, talking rock statues and a dog who understood everything he was saying. It had all been a bit too much, and combined with the massive blood loss, he'd fainted. Lyn still picks on him for that, asking him every time he gets a tiny cut if he'll be okay, does he need to sit down?
He still isn't entirely used to the idea of there being more races then on his planet? plane of existence? dimension? Well regardless, the thought of there being dwarves and elves everywhere has taken some getting used to. Occasionally he still finds himself staring at Lyn's ears with surprise, as if he'd forgotten they were there. And then she'd catch him and he'd end up stuttering and making excuses, to which she'd only reply by looking amused.
At least he's been able to make himself useful. Once Alistair and Lyn had explained everything to him, he'd been somewhat relieved. End of the world situation? He's got some experience there. A war to be fought against monsters was something he could handle. Something tangible and real that could anchor him to the present. Becoming a Grey Warden had almost been more painful then being in hell. The hangover from the blood hadn't been much better. The first week he'd gotten almost no sleep, thanks to the nightmares. Lyn had warned him about them, but he hadn't believed her and then when he found she hadn't been exaggerating he didn't want to admit it. Lyn had finally had enough of his bravado half way through the second week. She'd informed him his thrashing had been keeping her awake when he'd awoken to find her sitting next to his bedroll, leaned against a stump half asleep with her hand on his arm. He'd wondered in his sleep why suddenly he'd felt safer. He wasn't used to this kind of treatment, this gentle caring that he didn't ask for.
Every night he thrashed, she'd get up and comfort him by resting a hand on his arm, once he'd even woken up to find her stroking the top of his head while softly humming a soothing tune. And she'd kept taking care of him until he'd gotten a handle on himself. She never asked for anything in return, never blamed him for the circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep. He'd finally worked up the courage once to ask why she kept taking care of him and she'd just smiled and said, "Because you're one of us now, and I take care of my own." He'd had no answer for that.
Dean had paid her back the only way he knew how, by killing things. Alistair and Oghren helped by sparring with him any chance they got. Amazingly, it turned out he was a pretty decent hand with a sword. Knives and daggers he already knew how to handle, and even managed to show Zev a few new tricks. The added strength and six sense for danger the taint gave him was a surprising but helpful bonus. He'd been pretty strong before, but now he was the hulk. His attention gets pulled back to the present when Lyn clears her throat loudly, something she usually does before issuing orders.
"Tomorrow we'll reach Denerim. I need to pick up my armor and tie up some loose ends. We'll split up to get things done quickly, you guys know the drill, and then we'll all meet up at the Pearl. I rather stay at the Gnawed Noble but someone brought too much attention our way last time."
As Lyn finishes speaking everyone turns their gaze to the dwarf sipping from a flask.
"What? Why is everyone looking at me?"
"Because you would be the person I'm referring to, Oghren."
"It was the elf's fault, not mine. I was just an innocent bystander."
"You keep telling yourself that, my stocky little friend."
Zevran and Oghren descend into another one of their bicker fights and the rest of the group ignores them. Dean helps Wynne clean up the remains of their meal and washes the bowls for her. Sometimes he likes to think that his grandmother would have been like Wynne. Stern, wise, a bit heavy on the lectures, surprisingly tough, handy in a fight and appreciative of good alcohol. Also her healing talents would really come in handy back home.