The Wardens set up camp once more and built a fire. They had been travelling steady for about a few days, and had made good distance to Ostagar from Denerim. They estimated another day or two's journey would get them there. So far, the trip had been manageable, with only a couple run ins with Darkspawn hordes.
Zalandri was well liked already among the Wardens, and had proven herself during their first meeting with a horde of Darkspawn. Like the legends Duncan had heard of the Voshai, she was extremely fast and agile, whipping around to aide the Wardens in the fight. Her use of her two blades was formidable, and more than once they had seen her take a Darkspawn head clean off its shoulders with ease before moving onto the next. Her knowledge in herbalism and poisons was useful, and she could tend to wounds and mix antidotes faster than even Duncan, who was well known for being almost as excellent a healer as he was a warrior. Feren the hawk flew high above them on their journey, signaling with a screech to Zalandri if there was danger ahead.
Off the battlefield, she stayed close to Alistair when she wasn't talking to Duncan about the Blight or about her own finds through the west. They had become quite friendly, as she enjoyed all of his little jokes and he genuinely appreciated her company. She wasn't afraid to tease him back, and she found his innocence on certain social matters endearing, and would often push him enough to grant a faint blush on his ears. She had accompanied him on his nights for guard watch, and joined him again tonight as he stood at the edge of camp, looking for any sign of movement.
She appeared at his side, tossing her long, black hair over one shoulder as she buckled her leather vest secure. Alistair watched, fascinated, and she quickly braided her hair and tied it up, piling it into a bun high on her head. She caught him staring at her and she smiled at him, making him straighten up and look straight ahead again. She repressed a smile to herself. She often caught him staring at her when he thought she wasn't looking; attention she had in the past rejected from men, but it didn't bother her with him. She liked the young Warden's company, and she thought he was fairly handsome as well. He was different from the other men, who weren't afraid to flirt with her openly and loudly, advances she always teasingly but firmly rejected.
She looked out into the night with him, silently, and then they began their walk around the perimeter of the camp. They walked in a comfortable silence for a while, side by side, stopping occasionally so she could pick a sprig off of an herb plant and stash it in her hip pocket. It was a dark night, but the moon shone bright, and a roughly cut, tear shaped green gem gleamed as it swung from Zalandri's ear.
As they made their way to the east side of camp, Alistair suddenly stopped to listen, holding his arm out in front of Zalandri. She watched him as she reached for her blade, listening too as hard as she could. Her eyes seemed to glow, and she scanned the dark shadows of the trees for any movement. Her night vision was better than anyone's in the Wardens, a mystery to Duncan. Generations of living in a darker, foggy land had developed the Voshai's eyesight to accommodate their surroundings, but Zalandri did not speak of her homeland in detail.
She caught sight of a dark figure in the trees, and signalling Alistair to follow her, she crept toward it. She slipped into the shadow of the trees and sped up, winding silently past the figure to the back, and attacked, striking its head and gut in swift movements with the hilts of her daggers, and swept the feet from out under it, pointing her blade at its neck when it hit the ground.
Alistair caught up, sword drawn and ready for attack, and the cloud parted to allow the moon to illuminate the scene. He clicked his tongue and looked at Zalandri in fake annoyance, though he could not mask his admiration.
"You always get the good bit for yourself, don't you?"
She flashed him a sly smile and a wink, and turned to the panting man beneath her blade on the ground with a serious face.
"A scout," she said, looking him up and down. "For a group of bandits, I suspect? Where is your camp?"
The bandit scout said nothing, but glowered and spit at her, which she dodged with a bored look on her face.
"Don't need it anyway," she muttered, and gave him a nick on his shoulder. He winced and grunted in surprise, but was utterly confused when she withdrew her blade from his neck.
"That's all I need to do," she explained to him, and his eyes grew wide as the effects of the poison began to take place. "Why make a mess if you don't have to?" she said to Alistair, who chuckled and followed her as she stepped over the scout and held out her arm.
Feren landed on her wrist and she said something to him in a language Alistair did not understand. The hawk took off once more, and Zalandri watched as he circled once, screeched, and took off in one direction.
"That way," she interpreted for Alistair, and they followed the direction Ferene flew, weapons drawn.
They came across a bandit camp, where a group of them were arguing by the fire. Zalandri and Alistair stepped into the light, and the bandits turned to them.
"Oy, Reynold, where've you been-" the large bandit wielding a bow and arrow stopped and looked at the two strangers. Then he laughed. "Hey, now gents, we seem to have some company!"
He ran back and began drawing his arrow, but Zalandri was quick to step up to him, and with a quick turn of her heel she was behind him. Before the archer knew what was happening, she sunk her blades into his back and stepped calmly over his body when it hit the ground.
The rest of the bandits roared in anger and began to make for her, but before they could reach her, Alistair had charge right through them with his longsword at the ready, severely injuring many and pushing the rest back. He commanded the attention of the bandits as Zalandri snuck around them, delivering fatal blows while they were distracted by the Warden. Soon, Alistair and Zalandri were the only ones standing. They breathed heavily, and she looked around the camp, searching for any valuables.
"Good job," she said to Alistair, as she looked around. She turned to him, and her heart jumped so that her body almost followed. He was standing right in front of her, only a few inches away.
He half stepped back and raised his hands, seeing that he had shocked her. "Sorry!" he cried, "Sorry, I just- you have, on your face…" He awkwardly stepped forward again and wiped some blood off of her cheek. "Sorry.." he muttered again, but he didn't sound like he heard himself saying it.
Zalandri stood still and allowed him to touch her. She laughed lightly, which seemed to relieve him, and reached up to wipe some blood off of his face as well. "You too," she said, meeting his eyes. Alistair's ears turned slightly pinker in the fire light, and she chuckled to herself.
Honestly, this man…
His lips were parted slightly, and he let his hand linger on her cheek before forcing himself to look away and pull back. He cleared his throat, and Zalandri watched, amused, and he forced himself to look around the camp.
"Um, right, well. Wow. Look. A bandit camp! Who'da known, hm?" He walked over to the bags and carts on the side and started looking through them. Zalandri joined him, and they took whatever provisions they could find useful: Food, water, coin. They made their way back to the camp, Alistair musing about how they were acting like bandits. They left the provisions with the carts and went back to patrolling the perimeter.
Zalandri stopped to inspect a plant that had a strange moss sticking to the leaves. She pulled out her little knife she kept in her breast pocket and cut off a branch, placing it carefully into a bag and into her pouch. Her hands were steady and eyes focused, and Alistair couldn't stop staring. He forgot about listening and watching around them, and was fixated on watching her move. Her tattoos seemed to glow in the moonlight, and he couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful she was. And strong… and… He looked away as she stood up to turn to him.
"Do you stare at everyone like that?"
Alistair almost choked. "What-" he looked at her. Zalandri was giving him a mischievous smile and she laughed at his surprise. "No, I wasn't-" But she was already walking ahead, still chuckling.
He ran to catch up with her. "I wasn't staring," he lied. "I was just wondering what you were doing."
She smiled at him, eyes teasing, and explained to him the healing properties of the moss that she had collected. "But, anyway," she finished, "we're back now. Let's get Faelan to switch guard duty with us." The glow of the camp fire was visible ahead, and she took Alistair's hand - Alistair caught his breath - as if to lead him to it, but let him slide through her fingers quickly. They walked the rest of the way back to camp in silence, and Zalandri told him good night and went into her tent, while Alistair sat at the fire, unable to sleep. After long, unending thoughts about her, he went to his tent and into a restless dream of the Archdemon and shrieking Darkspawn.
He awoke in a cold sweat to someone shaking him.
"Alistair. Alistair." A soft, calming voice was waking him up, a hand gently shaking him, the other wiping the sweat soothingly off his brow. Alistair's focus came back, and Zalandri was bent over above him, calling his name softly. It was still dark outside, but a dim light was beginning to pale the sky. Zalandri's hair fell around her face, onto his chest. She looked concerned.
Alistair struggled to sit up, coughing. His shirt was damp from sweat, and he felt groggy, as he always did after having nightmares. He held his face in his hands for a minute and felt a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it. He looked up. Zalandri was still there, rubbing his shoulder and looking slightly alarmed.
"You were having a nightmare," she said, voice low as to not wake others in camp. "I went out with Feren to hunt, and when I came back I could hear you, moaning and thrashing about… Are you okay?"
Alistair nodded. "Yes," he managed to croak, his tongue thick and heavy. "It was just a nightmare, I- We get them often, as Grey Wardens. Of the Archdemon, he…" He shuddered. Zalandri looked understanding.
"Yes, Duncan mentioned it to me. I didn't know whether to wake you, but I felt I couldn't just leave you like you were… hold on, wait here." She stood up and slipped out of the tent. Alistair didn't feel like going anywhere anyway, and sat, waiting for her return.
She came back inside a few minutes later, holding a bowl of steaming liquid. It smelled like honey and mint, but had a deepness to it that he could not explain. She handed it to him carefully, not trusting his hands to hold it up.
"Here," she said, "drink. You'll feel better." He did as he was told, and drank from the bowl. He was pleasantly surprised to taste a thick, broth like sweet soup, floral in taste but very subtle. He instantly felt warm from the inside, and his mind and sinuses felt clear. He felt a damp rag on his brow. Zalandri was wiping his face gently.
"Thank you," he whispered. She smiled at him in response, and he suddenly felt the urge to pull her into him, to hold her close. He resisted this, and she stood up and went to wring out the rag outside. When she came back in, she sat in front of him as he finished the bowl.
"What was that?" he asked as she took the bowl from him.
"Telayitren." She replied, then explained, "It's an herbal tea from my homeland. I brought a pouch of dried leaves to make it during my travels." Then she held out her hand as if asking for something. "Your shirt."
He stared at her. "What about it?" he asked, utterly confused.
"Take it off," she replied, as though he had asked her the most ridiculous question.
He gaped. "Um…" he could not find the words to say.
She laughed, a little tinkling laugh. "Take off your shirt so you don't get chilled," she told him. "You've sweated through your nightmare, and the effects of the telayitren won't help anything if you keep it on. Here." She tossed him a clean, dry, shirt. "It's true, I wouldn't mind watching you take your shirt off any other time as well, but it isn't quite the mood right now," she said cheerfully.
Alistair snorted and blushed as he pulled off his shirt and replaced it with the one she handed him. "You wouldn't, hm?" He asked through the linen. He pulled his head through and looked at her. She was watching him with a small smile on her face and her eyes flashed playfully at him, as she did when she was teasing him.
"Wouldn't any woman?" She said, holding his gaze for a moment before leaving with the empty bowl.
Alistair grinned and sighed. Nightmares always left him feeling awful after he woke up, but this time he felt oddly refreshed and calm. He stood up and started packing up his tent and putting on armor, as the rest of the camp woke around him at the light of dawn.
When he finished packing, he went outside to stretch. He was given some dried meat and bread from another Warden and he joined Zalandri at the edge of camp, where she was watching all the Wardens pack and eat. She had already gathered her things and was waiting patiently. When he approached her, she stood up straight.
"Feeling better?"
"Yes, thank you. I usually feel awful after having those wretched nightmares, but I feel fine now. You're amazing!" He said enthusiastically, then felt warm and hurriedly corrected himself. "I mean, your tea soup stuff. Well, I mean, not that you're not amazing, you know… um…" He grinned sheepishly at Zalandri. She laughed, throwing her head back, hair swaying. She touched his arm lightly, and he felt again he could not look away from her smile.
They waited for the rest of camp to get ready, and finally they started off, everyone happy that their journey almost over.
Zalandri walked with Alistair until midday, when Duncan called her over to talk to him as they continued. She made her way over to the older Warden and greeted him.
"I was just curious as to where you were planning on headed after Ostagar," Duncan said, "Do you have a goal to get to in your travels?"
Zalandri shook her head. "No, Ser Duncan," she said, "I do not. I am simply traveling for the sake of time, I suppose…" She trailed off. Where am I going? She thought. The idea of leaving the Wardens didn't occur to her, she suddenly realized, and she did not think she liked it. She had grown to love the group of rowdy, well-meaning men, and did not wish to part with them, but she supposed she must, and felt a little sad. She thought of Alistair, and how much she enjoyed being with him, and she did not like the idea of leaving.
Duncan watched her face as she thought, seeing her brow furrow slightly. "Well," he said slowly, "if that is the case, would you consider joining the Grey Wardens?" He could not help but smile at the young woman as she snapped her head up to look at him in surprise. "You are a valuable asset to the battlefield, and I believe you would make an excellent recruit," he continued, "We could make the arrangement at Ostagar, as there are other waiting there to begin the Joining."
Zalandri was silent, thinking over the offer. Duncan let her think for a minute before reassuring her, "Think it over today's journey. You can let me know when we get there." She nodded and bowed, thanking him, and made to return to Alistair when he spoke.
"You have become very close."
She turned around. Duncan was smiling kindly at her. "With Alistair," he continued. "You two have become quite close. I am glad to see it." He continued walking and she left, wondering exactly what he meant. She found Alistair again and continued walking by his side as though she had never left.
"There you are!" he exclaimed. "What did Duncan want?"
Zalandri shrugged. "Oh, nothing," she said lightly, "He just wanted to know what I was planning on doing after we reach Ostagar. Where I was planning to go, I mean."
Alistair's smile was wiped off his face. "Oh," he said, in a strange voice. "Right. Well… well, where are you going?"
Zalandri did not look at him, but up to the sky where Feren was circling. "I'm not sure," she answered honestly. Alistair did not press the issue, but seemed to lose some of the pep in his step and they continued walking in silence for a while.