Summary: She makes it look easy, but Fenris soon learns Ranch life is hard work. The more he learns about her, the more admiration he feels towards her. There is a shaky truce between them but will she ever trust him?
Fenris woke before dawn. He took a moment to enjoy the quiet. Kirkwall was always noisy. The first week the quiet had felt strange, now he found it peaceful and would miss it when he returned to Thedas.
He dressed in the strange clothes she had brought him. The first week he'd worn loose fitting clothing to allow his wounds to heal. These were made of firmer material, similar to clothing in Thedas, but the clasps and strange buckles were unlike anything in his world.
Cara had been kind enough to help him with the boots. Something he had never worn before. They felt odd and heavy on his feet. The slight heel was confusing as well. Though he found it less of an annoyance than he expected. He took an awkward step every now and then. It would take some time to get used to boots.
He wondered what to expect today. Cara had been civil at dinner, but the conversation had stayed on ranch topics. The list of chores she did each day surprised him. Not even slaves in Danarius' house worked as hard. Each had a separate job, but she did the work of many on her own.
He found the kitchen door open, just as he had the evening before. Cara was leaning back against the counter, a cup of coffee cupped in her hands.
"Good morning," he said.
"We'll soon see." She gave him a quick glance. "At least you look dressed for the day."
He bit back an angry retort. She was not going to make this easy.
"It's light fare, you'll want a light breakfast for riding lessons. Expect to fall off the horse a at least once or twice."
"I appreciate you taking the time to teach me."
"It's a necessity. The farthest part of the ranch takes almost two days on a horse or three and a half walking. Learning to ride is easier than learning to drive, so you learn to ride."
"Drive? You mean those strange carriages I saw?"
"Cars and trucks, yes. I suppose if we can't get you home you will need to learn, but for now, riding will benefit you both here and Thedas."
"You own one of these - trucks?" He hadn't seen anything like that here, but there was one building he hadn't been in.
"Yes, a Jeep and a truck. Both are in the garage to the east. You can't run a ranch without a good truck and trailer. There is also another barn farther east with the mowing equipment, and a flatbed trailer for hauling hay."
"Are you not going to eat?" he asked her when she didn't join him.
"I've eaten already." She put her cup in the sink. "Put your plate in the sink when you're finished, please. I'll let the hens out." She went out the door before he could respond.
He watched the door while he ate. He wasn't good with people he liked. It was even harder talking to people he didn't know. Talking to those he didn't get along with or didn't like him was usually easier. He would never back down from a verbal or physical spar. But talking to someone he had hurt, someone who didn't deserve his anger - was different.
He stood at the door while his eyes adjusted to the light. The hens surrounded her clucking and scratching at the ground. A smile softened her expression until he stepped out the door. He cussed under his breath. Dealing with Hawke after he'd walked away was easier than this, but then he had treated Hawke better also.
"Ready?" she asked. She walked past him. "Let me put the eggs inside. I'll meet you by the corral."
He gave her a nod and walked to the corral near the barn. He wondered what to expect. The horses she had brought in yesterday were still nervous. He could see the tension in their steps and fear in their eyes.
A sharp whistle from Cara and the horse she usually rode trotted up to the fence. The others followed a few hesitant steps behind.
"You two haven't officially met, but this is Scout. He's the best riding horse on the place, aside from Daisy, but she will need a few weeks' rest before she's ready to ride. Scout here is patient with beginners."
He felt the tension leave his shoulders.
"You didn't think I'd put a green rider on a green horse?" She smirked at his nod. "I'm not that mean."
"I would feel better if you would accept my apology," he said.
"Fine, whatever."
"No, it is not fine." He pinned her against the corral fence, arms on either side of her. "What happened was - I don't know what came over me, but you didn't deserve my anger."
"No, I didn't. Alright, apology accepted." She stared back at him, her breath held. The fear in her eyes reminded him of the horses; as if she would run if he made the wrong move.
He heard her heart pounding in her chest, and at the edge of her open collar, the mark he'd placed was faded but still there. The scent of her perfume awakened his desire for her, and he recalled her that night - her skin bathed in firelight.
Cara watched his eyes darken and tried to wiggle out from between him and the fence. Instead, he pressed in tighter, and she felt him harden against her. Just as she thought he would kiss her, he pushed away with a growl, leaving her shaken and confused. Was he angry for wanting her? She refused to give into the tears that stung her eyes. She didn't want him to want her anyway, so why did her body say otherwise?
Scout nudged the back of her head. She had called him over and he had listened. She owed him a reward. She turned and cooed at him, and rubbed his nose. Then pulled a sugar cube out of her jacket pocket. The other horses crowded near, those brave enough to stick their noses near received a sugar cube. Eventually, each had drawn near enough to earn one.
Cara opened the gate and led Scout through, shutting it behind him to a few protests from the young herd. She smiled at their eagerness. The training they had received last summer was coming back to them.
With her back to him, Fenris rubbed a hand over his face. What in the Void was wrong with him? He'd known Hawke for nearly four years before he realized he what he felt for her. When she turned to Anders soon after he walked out, he swore he'd never allow himself to get close to anyone. His relationship with Isabela had been casual. Neither made a commitment to the other, and he'd been fine when she left.
He'd known Cara a week. She was everything he wanted, had the life he had only dreamed of, and it was all wrong. He couldn't stay in her world and she would never fit in his.
"I continue to make a mess of things," he said. "I apologize."
She gave a slight nod and led Scout to the saddle she had placed on the fence. She ran a brush over Scout's back - explaining the importance of making sure nothing was stuck in his hair to cause discomfort. Then she walked Fenris through saddling, making adjustments as needed.
"Tomorrow you can practice on one of the three-year-olds, it will be a good lesson for you both." She tugged on the straps and the saddle. When she was happy with it she let the stirrup down.
She explained everything as she went, slipped a foot into the stirrup and swung the other over. With a click of her tongue and a nudge with her heel Scout stepped forward. "Scout here is a bit-less horse. Instead of a bar in his mouth, this bridle applies pressure when you pull the reins. Pull too hard and he will attempt to throw you off. He also responds to the reins against his neck, in addition to pressure from your legs. You just shift your weight in the direction you want him to go. It's what makes him an exceptional herder."
She made a circle of the barnyard. A few of the young horses whinnied. Scout tossed his head proudly as he pranced around the yard. He was showing off for the young horses. Cara couldn't have found a better horse than Scout. He was patient with new riders and new horses. Happy to share his training to make both better at riding. She pulled up to the fence and dismounted with ease.
"Alright, your turn."
Fenris hesitated a moment. She made it look easy, but he knew it took skill and experience to ride as effortlessly as she did. She had been one with her horse as they herded the half-wild horses in yesterday.
"Okay left foot in the stirrup, grab the reins, the saddle horn, or some of his mane. Don't worry about hurting him, it's a way to let him know what you intend to do." She nodded. "Now, push off with your right foot and swing your leg over. Just don't kick him when you bring it down."
He took a half breath and held it as he did as she said. He almost swung too far and had to adjust himself mid swing.
"Good, nice correction."
He felt his ears warm from the compliment. In all his years' no, one had acknowledged something done right. Only corrected mistakes.
Cara walked around and checked his feet. Adjusting the right one. She stepped back and nodded. "You have a natural seat, good posture." She adjusted the reins. "Ok. A slight nudge to his side with your heel and click of your tongue gets him moving. To make him stop, sit back, pull slightly back on the reins and say 'whoa'. Circle the yard a few times, get the feel of how he moves. Once you get a feel for his rhythm you'll know when to raise up from the saddle and then ease back down to prevent jarring and bouncing."
She watched as he moved forward. He was tense, but she knew he would learn to relax in time. He looked more at home on a horse than some who had ridden for years. Only the stiffness in his shoulders and his white knuckles gave away his fear. "Relax your shoulders a bit," she called out.
He had a new respect for her riding abilities. Riding was more difficult than it looked. How was she so calm about this? Relax his shoulders? Far easier said than done.
She was trying to kill him. He snorted with amusement. Underneath that pretty face was a vengeful woman. He pulled the boots from his feet with a groan and fell back onto the bed. He was a warrior, fought and trained daily, and was damn good at it. But the work she had him doing used muscles he hadn't known he had.
His back, thighs and ass hurt. So did his feet. Though he knew it was the unfamiliarity of wearing boots. Being thrown repeatedly hadn't helped with the aches and pains. He rolled to his stomach and stretched out across the width of the bed.
They'd spent the last three weeks working with the three-year-olds. Most had taken to the saddle without much fuss. But two of them were 'ornery as hell' she'd said. Determined not to be beaten, he got back on each time they threw him. The young horses had also thrown Cara a number of times. How was she still moving while he felt like he'd been trampled by a druffalo? He had been stepped on at least once and kicked at more times than he could count. Most of the kicks he had dodged soon enough, but a few had brushed off his legs. Today had been the worst yet.
He heard the door slide open and her voice call out.
He grunted a response.
She leaned against the door frame and gave a soft chuckle. "I knew you were in worse shape than you pretended."
"Just let me die," he mumbled into the bed.
"I have something that will help."
He waited, but only heard water running in the bath. He would raise his head, but it took too much effort.
"Wake up, city boy." She pulled at his shirt sleeve and he groaned in protest.
"Just let me sleep. I'll be fine in the morning."
"No, you'll just get worse. You need a long soak in the tub. C'mon."
She placed a hand on the back of his knee and he held back a hiss. Anytime he'd brushed against her while they worked with the horses, she had flinched and jerked away. Her innocent touch sent a jolt through him.
He pushed up, forcing his arms and legs to move and sat on the edge of the bed. "You are a cruel woman, Cara." How was she not in as rough of shape as he was? He'd been trying to keep up with her, determined to do more than she did each day, and he doubted he could make it to dinner.
"You've overdone it, is all. You thought this job was easy. Well, it gets easier, once you get used to it. I doubt it was easy when you first picked up a sword?" She drew her breath in a short gasp. "Shit, I'm sorry. That was pretty inconsiderate of me."
He shook his head, she was right. He knew it hadn't been easy becoming the warrior he was. He may not remember, but he knew skill didn't come without effort. "It's alright. I remember some things. Enough to know the life before was no better than my time as Danarius' pet."
"I know some of the past will never be forgotten, but you don't have to stay trapped in it."
"Hawke and Varric said the same thing. How do you move on?"
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I haven't dealt well with my own past. I just know no one can make the choice for you, but you."
"You have made a life here."
"Some would disagree. They think I'm hiding. Maybe I am, but I'm happy here, and until I lost Grace, it was enough."
He pushed to his feet despite the protesting from his thighs and back. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Had I a choice, I'm not certain I would have chosen the life of a warrior."
"You should get in the tub before the water cools. I put some Epson salt in it to help with the bruises and the aches. It's not healing magic, but it does help."
His mouth turned up at the corners. "I've avoided healing magic whenever possible." He felt the familiar flutter in his stomach when she met his gaze and smiled. "Thank you."
She shrugged and turned away. "I have selfish reasons. Tomorrow we move the cattle to a new pasture. With the early warm weather, the field is ready for them. I need you able to ride tomorrow."
He shook his head at her retreating back. Each time she lowered her guard she retreated, or threw him a biting comment. Would she ever trust him?
Cara called Jess. He and Harris were due on the ranch in a week, but she asked if he could come in a few days early. She knew she could wait to move the small herd, but she wanted to give Fenris some experience before meeting the two old hands.
Instead of retiring with Greg and Maddie, they had both insisted on staying on. As a compromise, Cara put them to work through the summer and fall months, and during the winter they stayed in Texas. Jess told her they were already in Jackson, WY. They'd headed north when the geese did. She let him know she was taking a new hand with her to move the cattle.
"It's early for a new hire, Miss Cara," Jess said.
"I know, I usually wait until school's out, but he's not a student. He's rather new to the area and - "
"A greenhorn!" He hollered at Harris and the two shared a few inside jokes.
Cara rolled her eyes and waited for them to wind down. "He's found himself in a bit of trouble. He's stranded and too proud not to work his way home." She held her breath a moment. What would they say when they saw him? Lord, she could only imagine. They would have to come up with a back story the old codgers would accept. She could try the truth, but she doubted even her closest friends would believe her.
"Well, he's found the right place to get back on his feet."
Both men had come to work for her Father just after she was born. Each had found themselves in need of a place to start over. They were as much a part of the ranch as the horses themselves.
"I hope so. He could use a break and have something good happen in his life." She did want him to find his way. The sooner he left the better. She was beginning to enjoy having him around.
"Harris and me will head up in the morning."
"Thanks, Jess. I've put him up in the foreman's cabin. I brought the three-year-olds in and most are doing well. It's only Rufio and Warrior who are stubborn."
The old hand chuckled, and spoke to Harris.
"I know I can't order you not to ride either, but they've thrown us both more than a time or two the last three weeks. Daisy had a colt a month ago, I've turned her out in the eastern pasture. I'll take Gypsy and Scout, and leave the hens plenty of grain."
"Don't you fret none, Miss Cara. We'll be there tomorrow evening."
Sleep eluded her last night. When she finally drifted off to sleep she dreamed of Thedas. The events were different, but the time frame was much the same each dream.
The dreams had started soon after Grace had given her the first game for her birthday. She'd found a few hours each weekend to play, and fell in love with the characters. She dismissed the dreams as a result of her brain processing new and interesting information and from spending too much time on just the game.
She'd not touched the game in a two months, not since she had finished the Inquisition play through with her Inquisitor Lavellan. She'd chosen to romance Solas.
From the moment he spoke the first time she knew he was not the humble apostate he pretended to be. By the time she had reached the Temple of Mythal, she had decided he was one of the ancient elves from legend. He knew too much to just be a wanderer in the Fade. The conversation between Solas and Abelas confirmed her suspicions. But the ending, when he knelt over the broken orb was when the cord struck deep within. She knew. When he left she felt broken and betrayed. Worse, Grace hadn't been there to share it with her.
But the dreams she had weren't of the current events in Thedas. They were of ages past. When elves ruled the world.
The newest dream had been of herself. While she had dreamed through the eyes of an elf, this dream caught her reflection as she stood before an ancient Eluvian and cast a spell to activate it. She was the last of a small colony to walk through, seeking a safe world. Thedas was embroiled in war and had been for centuries. The destruction seemed inevitable, especially with the recent death of Mythal.
She had woken in a cold sweat. Each dream became more clear, more vivid than the last. This one had felt more real than the others as well. She could still feel the caress of magic along her skin from passing through the enchanted glass.
She needed to recenter herself. Having Fenris here simply had her imagination running wild. She found it easy to immerse herself in history, and lore. The story and history the writers had created had drawn her into the games the moment she first played them. Now she knew Thedas was real, and it had triggered the latest dream, nothing more. At least she'd not dreamed of him last night. She'd woken many nights still feeling his kiss on her lips or the warmth of his calloused hands against her skin.
He heard her before he saw her. The first yell had set him on instant alert, but when no threat answered, and only her voice rang out, he realized there was no threat to her safety. Curious, he went to investigate. As he rounded the garden he stopped short. Cara wore loose white pants and a tunic tied at the waist with a dark belt. But the sword she held skillfully over her head as she spun and slashed at the dummy surprised him.
Her movements were graceful and well-executed, but they lacked experience. They were the moves of one who spent years training but had never seen a battle. When she faltered on her move was when he stepped forward. He coughed to alert her to his presence.
Cara stepped back. The flush of warmth that bloomed over her skin wasn't from the exercise. She'd hoped to get a workout in without being observed. The warmth in her cheeks grew when she met his gaze.
"You are a woman of many talents," he said. "It takes years to gain the level of skill you possess."
"Just something to work off tension. My brother and I started as children, but he is more dedicated to the craft than I am. I practice when I can."
"May I offer a suggestion?"
She grinned. "I don't expect to face demons or bandits. But, sure, why not." She expected a thorough critique of everything she did wrong.
"Your stance is throwing off your balance. Keep your feet at shoulder width between moves. Too wide and you lose momentum and reach. Too narrow you trip over yourself."
Cara was partially surprised. Her stance was one of her weaknesses, and her focus had been on her sword this morning, not her feet. She had expected him to find more faults with her style. She had changed most of the moves and made them her own, something which greatly offended her brother. She took a deep breath, faced the dummy and let half out. With a yell, she let the other half out and began again. This time more mindful of her feet. Karate had only been a hobby for her, a way to work out tension and stay flexible. So was Yoga. But she would humor the warrior.
The move she had always had trouble with flowed with perfect grace. There was no wobble or misstep. With a smile, she stepped back and gave Fenris a slight bow. "Thank you. It has always been my weakness." She set her sword against the dummy. "How are you at hand-to-hand?"
"It was not something I developed beyond what was useful in battle."
Cara felt her heart sink. She had hoped for a sparring match. "Ah. Well, in that case, I will go get breakfast. We shouldn't waste time this morning anyway." She gathered her sword and returned through the garden fence.
He watched her leave. He'd not missed the slight slump to her shoulders when her back was to him. There were trust issues between them, sparring together might make them worse. After the dream he'd had of her last night, the two of them in close combat was not a good idea. Being close to her at all was not a wise idea.