Terill pushed past the door to survey the poorly lit bar. She was used to dirt but the natural kind that did not cling to your skin. All she could feel is the grease and blood on her skin and it made her feel a kind of grimy that she had never felt. She wanted a bath. She had tried her hardest to keep herself clean in the passing creeks on their travels but she was too hyper-vigilant to tarry to far from the camp long enough to clean more than her face and hair. She assumed that this would be no place to bathe, but all the same she hoped. Her optimism was to ever be her downfall.
Shems were slumped in nearly every available space in the place, already looking as if the blight had won. She was annoyed at their ability to look so defeated before they even tried; it made her want to shake every last one of them. She was probably being insensitive considering most had either lost their homes or were soon about to but she hated the look they had. Her people were outnumbered in a land that hated and feared them but they were always determined. The Dalish carried themselves with an aire of pride that she had come to expect in others. The thought made her feel like just another bitter Dalish but there was no honor in giving up this easily. She shook the annoyance out of her head and headed towards the bartender. Before she could get to the counter she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder, turning her around. She was soon face to face with a heavyset man with too much whisky on his breath. The poor sod looked just as desperate as the others but tried to hide behind his position of power. Wrex growled from behind the man and she noticed a flinch in his face before he gained back the courage to speak.
"Well, look what we have here then! I think we have just been blessed." The man yelled over to his friend. She soon recognized their garb that marked them as the men of the regent. Fantastic. I'm becoming a shem exterminator.
Before either men could continue with their pointless banter, she began pulling her blades. The sheaths were soft enough they hardly made a sound as she pulled her sharpened daggers from their holders. There was too much cowardice in this whole bar for her to keep herself in check. She felt a hand on her left arm, urging her to replace her dagger back to the sheaths. She kept herself from lashing out at the stranger who so boldly held her arm now. She noticed the chantry robes and almost reconsidered her mercy for this woman. She tried to keep all the nagging thoughts of the chantry and their hypocrisy from prematurely ending this woman's life. She knew there was reason to be bitter but she tried to not let her emotions cause undue pain to others.
"Now gentlemen," the woman started, surveying the drunks as well as her own companions, "surely no blood needs to be spilled in the midst of this blight." Her voice spoke of a light orleseian accent that was certainly pleasant to the ears mixed so subtly her kind voice. "These must be more poor souls seeking refuge of the chantry on their way from the darkspawn." Terill almost chuckled. Even an idiot would consider that, as armed as they were, and with a mabari at that, they were obviously not refugees of any form. She was unsure if the pretty redhead was truly that foolish to assume this or was making a poor attempt to disway these men from acting in a way that will end their lives. Blue eyes met hers, almost pleading her to keep silent. Oddly enough, she did so. She felt like an idiot for this odd attraction to this woman who was most certainly another bigoted idiot, ready to covert her from her heathen ways. Alas, her sense never did catch up with her attraction to misunderstood and poisonous women.
One of the men laughed, "Refugees? Hardly, these are murderers and traitors to the crown. This knife-ears is wanted for many crimes" He pulled his sword, clumsily, probably cursing himself now for the several drinks he had put away. "Now sister, step aside or you will be guilty of aiding such criminals." Even his words sounded clumsy. Terrill almost felt sorry for the poor sod who was almost in no shape to walk, much less take on their company. It was certainly a shem vice to be so unable to hold their liquor and it made them seem even more stupid.
The chantry sister quickly unsheathed the dagger at her side, plunging it in a weak spot on the man's side, turning the blade cruelly before pulling it out and pushing him to the ground. The man would most likely live, the woman seemed intent on avoiding his kidney despite its accessibility.
Terill's eyes were wide in surprise as another of the man's companions lashed out at the woman who deftly avoided his swing and brought her blade across his throat, blood soon staining the yellow robes she wore. The cut was not deep but hit the artery and may kill him. The rest of the men made their way out of the bar, obviously not wanting to meet the fate that their two companions had. As Terill was about to follow them she felt a hand on her shoulder and that pleasant accent telling her to let them go.
She pushed the hand off and regarded the chantry sister accusingly. "Why would you seek to help us where your revered mother would not?" Her eyes flashed over Sten who stared straight ahead, not at all bothered by whatever treatment the chantry had given him. She knew that he would be unaffected but she still sought the comfort of something predictable.
"Should I have turned a blind eye?" The red-head cocked her head to the side curiously, not seeming to be bothered by the tone in Terill's voice. Her words made Terill feel ungrateful, this woman had helped them without any need to and yet she found herself angry at the woman's interference. Terill isn't sure if she would have preferred to kill the whole lot of them and perhaps this is what is motivating her anger. Was she bitter? Was she hurt? She truly hoped it was not the case. In some odd sense of superiority she tried to be as objective about her Dalish nature and their adversity to men. Now that she was truly faced with this discrimination though…
"I'm…. Sorry." Terill acquiesced, "I should not have lashed out at you ungratefully. Thank you for your help." Terill offered her hand in a shake. Shem's seemed to love to touch hands constantly; they shook hands at meetings, shook hands at goodbyes, and seemed to think this gesture meant something besides the redundancy. It did not offend her to offer the hand. The sister seemed sincere and she hoped not to become the cynic that assumed otherwise. The sister took her hand and shook it daintily, smiling all the while. It was a cute smile that did not seem to eager.
"I was certainly my pleasure to help such a damsel in distress." Before terill could be offended she noticed the joking nature in her voice. "It was probably silly to try to do so, I will admit. You and your companions seem more than capable but the men have been making an ass of themselves for hours… Besides that, I am Leliana, one of the Lay-sisters of the Chantry." Terill bristled at this reminder.
"I can see." Terill said tersely. "It is nice to meet you Leliana, I am Terill." Terill made a motion to her companions who made for the door, "It has been a pleasure, but we will need to be leaving before any of Logain's men suddenly grow a back-bone and attempt to find us here."
Leliana looked amused, noticing the woman's change of demeanor and the sudden authoritative tone that she took on to order the band of fighters. It was cute, not in a way she meant to be condiecning but Terill, to a trained, or just observant eye, felt very out of her element.
Leliana grabbed Terills sholder yet again, "And I shall accompany you then! Allow me a few moments to collect my things?" There was little actual question in her statements as if she knew she would come along.
"Why would you seek to aid those deemed traitors?" She raised her eyebrow. She noted how quickly she collected strange people. Had anyone in their right mind seen to join them they would surely be driven insane before they reached their first stop.
"The Maker has given me a vision. I know I am to aid you in your work." Leliana said, seeming to completely forget her chantries opinion of the Dalish as well as their current stance on Grey Wardens. Leliana soon corrected herself, "I mean… I'm so sorry for bumbling, I feel as though when I saw you, I had already practiced some grand speak a thousand times." This last line made Terill blush in a sudden manner. "Again, I mean no offence, but I know I must follow you." Leliana offered an unsure smile.
Terill stared at her dumbly, making Leliana shift under her gaze. "You do good work, you will accomplish great things that I would be more than happy to be a small part in. The Maker needs me to come with you. Even if you do not believe in such things, I beg you to at least indulge me even if only from my skill with my blades."
"Your Maker?" Terill felt her hand's clench. "I do not wish to have your gods deciding my fate." She felt her anger rising and she knew she would say something she would soon regret if she continued. Terill held her face in her hand and tried to calm herself. She knew that this woman would be useful and they certainly did need more allies for the tasks they had been given. She needed to be objective and not allow this annoyance potentially doom her cause. She felt odd. She did not feel odd as if she would soon be sick but soon became unsure in a way she was not at all accustomed. "Fine." She huffed angrily, only to hear a grumble from behind her.
"You cannot be serious?!" Morigan asked loudly. "We are taking a chantry wench with us now? Should we hold Sunday Mass and pray for our foe's souls?!" Terill shot her a glance that put a stop to her protests. She must know Terill was no happier about the arrangement then she was but she would not let her opinion make her turn down help they so desperately needed. She felt a form of duty, as did Alistair although they were bound by nothing but honor to uphold it at this point. They could easily slip away somewhere, perhaps to Orlais even and wait for another group of Grey Wardens from a neighboring country to slay the darkspawn. They could become different people, they certainly had the skill to make money as sellswords and body gaurds but the thought had not crossed her mind.
Alistar chuckled in a way that bordered on self-deprecating, "Do you think she won't fit in? An apostate, a Templar, and a Lay-sister all commanded by a Dalish elf? Sounds like the start to a fine joke."
Leliana looked elated by this and started chattering on about this vision of darkness and Terill soon lifted her hand. "Stop. I will allow you to come because it is true that our cause would be lost without capable allies. You have proven your skill to a degree but I will not suffer through continuous talks of your maker. I will try to be objective and not be insensitive of what you believe but I expect the same of you. We travel at a fast pace and we will need the help of all of Ferelden. There is a large chance we may not be successful and any of us could die." Terill paused to regard the woman again whose blue eyes now shown with a resolve. Finally a shem with some damn courage.
Leliana nodded, "I will try to be as sensitive as I can on the matter as well as not being a burden to you or your companions. I only seek to help and I apologize in advance if my beliefs offend you. I do not seek to convert you but as you must understand, two years of my life has been spent in the chantry and perhaps old habits die hard." Morrigan sneered behind them but remained silent, Wrex was regarding the ham a few tables over, Alistair nodded approvingly, and Sten... was just Sten. Leliana seemed truly sincere and for this, Terrill greatly appreciated.
Terill nodded. "Alright, collect your belongings, I will attempt to acquire supplies to last us until we reach the circle and we will meet back at the chantry board."
They were out of Lothering as soon as they had entered and were on their way towards the Circle, much to Morrigan dismay. She prattled on about their inability to act without their chantry leash but all the same, these treaties would be put to use. Despite Morrigan's words, Terill felt sympathy for these men and women, torn from their homes to be taught under the Templars oppressive gaze. In honesty, magic scared her, the potential scared her, and as everyone else, the unknown nature of it terrified her. All the same these mages were given this gift by the creators for some reason or another and she would not hate them or fear them for their destiny.
It would be a must longer trip than she had initially anticipated considering their limited supplies. Much of their time was spent foraging or hunting where it could otherwise be spent covering ground towards their next location. Their slow pace made her feel almost helpless. She was without the guidance of her Keeper, without the comforting numbers of her clan, and lastly, without Tamlen or Merrill.
Although she cursed this long trip, she soon started to become accustomed to her rag-tag team. Alistair proved to be a sympathetic listener and a force of constant comic relief that kept her from pulling her hair out time and time again. She felt as though Alistair was even more naïve and innocent than her which was certainly a feat considering the circumstances. He seemed to have a rather rose-colored view of many things that one may find in a child. He had proven himself prone to black and white thinking but his intentions were still good. Alistair kept a rather guarded hand despite his jests and made him considerably more interesting than the average shem. He did not claim to be more damaged or put upon than anyone despite his continual deflections. He was always joking in a way that seemed to annoy her other companions but could certainly be seen as endearing. He was willing to listen should the others want to speak and was humble in a way she could have hardly expected.
Morrigan was a rather poorly shielded enigma who attempted to be a terse to others as possible in an attempt to stop any questions about herself.. She claimed such superiority but seemed to doubt it herself. She could see in the quick flashes of emotion she displayed which quipping Alistair that she was not as cold as she may have seemed. She certainly grew up with a very darwinistic view of the world and was so afraid she would not be able to survive in it. Terill found herself pondering on what sort of mother Flemeth could have been but the thought turned her stomach. Morrigan warmed up rather quickly to Terill as she found the elf less judgmental about her past and magic use. She still remained guarded but seemed to enjoy, at least on some level, the time spent on watch together.
Sten felt no need to define himself to their companions despite their misunderstandings and it made him all the more admirable. He was certainly different, but not in so much that made him seem inhuman. There was much in his past to regret and despite his nature; he seemed to worry of his place. Despite her pleads he would not elaborate on what seemed to bother him so when he thought they were not looking and appeared angry that she spent so much attention on this matter. He was certainly a proud quinari and kept herself from bothering him more than necessary. Sten followed her with few questions thus far despite her lack of experience. He was always willing to spar when she felt the need and never to such an extent it could harm her.
So far Wrex had proven himself intelligent, understanding, loyal and consistent. She found herself talking to him in elvish about things she could hardly admit to herself. His expressions almost seemed to change in understanding but Terill knew that was probably wishful thinking. Of course she would think the dog that was forced to listen to her prattle on about her worries and dreams was some form of sentient that no one could understand. It was so sickeningly clichéd but yet she felt herself hoping all the same. She found herself gravitating towards the dog under this pretense of understanding despite how idiotic it may be. The dog helped her feel at home in a way and provided companionship that her human companions may not. She wondered if Wrex was some incarnation of her old friend Tamlem and although the Keeper would certainly box her ear for that consideration, it comforted her.
Lastly, there was Leliana. The chantry sister was always in a chipper mood, offering encouragements and anecdotes to her and Alistair when they needed. She seemed to find so much beauty in everything around her despite their situation but it hardly seemed childish naivety. Terill understood the mentality well. When you are at your worst, when you lose everything, you still learn to find suck beauty in just being. Leliana's bright eyes and warm smile always put Terill at ease and she soon felt herself drawn to the woman. She found friends in nearly all her companions but something about Leliana and that nervous flick of her hair when they dove into her past was different from anyone she knew. Her deflections were so seamless and she always seemed to know what to say to avoid telling Terill whatever it was the she is trying so hard to keep a secret. Terill was often so level-headed and cool around everyone. She found most people to be easy reads and was able to get them to say more than they may have with a few well-timed prods. She tried not to be manipulative about it but she was always so curious.
Leliana was different. Leliana made her nervous and unsure. Much of what Terill knew seemed to backfire on her with Leliana. When Leliana wanted to end a conversation all she needed to do was hold Terill's eye contact long enough it made her feel self-conscious and leave. Terill cursed her for this. She was so used to be confident, collected, and in control of her thoughts and actions. Leliana knew exactly what to say and do to catch her off balance. But she was drawn to the bard's interesting tales and good company. She found herself even more confused as she looked forward to watches spent with the unnerving woman.
She laughed as Alistair brought up her attraction to the woman. She knew a lot of things and attraction was certainly not one of them. It was not to say she had never been attracted to another but she knew better than to ever act upon these feelings. She would deny them to herself as long as she could before her unrequited love became too much to bear as it had before. She found the woman to be curious, interesting, and a good friend but Alistair's accusatory gazes were simply undue at the moment.
At the same time, she knew it was foolish how quickly she trusted these people but Terill had always been a little too trusting. She was certainly the sort of person willing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt despite prior actions. Many would have considered it cute, most in her clan considered it very dangerous. She had so earnestly wanted to get to know the people that her clan called the Shems but have never been able to. They interested her, their culture, their mannerisms, their obsession over things, their need to touch almost constantly. Her friends had always considered Shem things with heavy distain but she never held those colored views. She had always been far too curious about Shems to write all of them off as frivolous and greedy. She was certain, after enough meetings, that greed seemed to be almost virtuous in the Shems society and it some cases, kept you alive. These perceptions were certainly hypocritical as often Dalish would comment on the Shems ability to so quickly brand them as barbarians when the elves did essentially the same thing.
One night in particular she had trouble sleeping. She had been faced with an oddly realistic dream about Tamlem and her sitting around a campfire far away from her clans members.
Tamlem looked especially agitated this evening. Rather than his kind voice telling ridiculous stories about oversized monsters and silly coincidences, his solemn gaze pieced a hole in Terill that she could not maintain.
"You know." He said, looking at the flickering light of the dying campfire, "What if it doesn't matter?" The usual upbeat mood he held being displaced with such melancholy he was almost unrecognizable. He was hardly ever seen without a smile on his face and it immediately put her on edge.
"How do you mean?" She inquired, hoping this to be the start to some joke.
He turned towards her, eyes without the lively, mischievous glint. "Life? Memories? What if I don't matter?" He looked hollow. Terill had been mildly aware something was amiss from the unnatural light that the fire cast upon the two of them. She followed the light to see it tapered off in such an almost two-dimensional way, it was flat. She was dreaming but she could not stop it.
Her brow furrowed, not understanding the implications of his words. "You know you matter to a lot of people Tam. Maybe even Merrill someday." She almost reached over to ruffle his hair but something about the chill in the air kept her from doing so. She was outside of herself, as if watching this seen as something that may come or had already. She tried to wake up, pinch herself, hold her breath but time still moved in that sluggish rate.
"I matter to people… who may not matter?" his face contorted almost in disgust. "And You!" He yelled accusingly, "You have forget about me and OUR people as these shems came around!" He spat at the last word. This was not Tam, she knew it but the words stung.
"Tam?!... What are you talking about?" The light dimmed and she was genuinely afraid of what Tamlem had to say, even if there was no truth in it. Even if this was a dream.
Tamlem stopped moving, looked over to the dying fire and laughed. It started out as a chortle but grew to something almost ominous in nature. "None of us matter…" He looked over to her with a smirk, his face looking aged, "not even you, Terill, your thoughts of grandeur will not save all of Ferelden." He cupped her face, almost condescendingly, "You poor child, you will never know what I have seen and what your short comings will create." His grip tightened as hair fell from his head, his body suddenly contorting in a way that would be unnatural.
Terill's vision failed her but she managed to hear the last whisper, "and you will lose everything."
Terill was shaken awake at that opportune moment, her eyes awide with fright, only to find leiliana's blue eyes gazing down at her rather than Tam's broken ones. Terill shook her head and realized that she was still in her haphazardly pitched tent. She wishes she hadn't been so lazy when you put hers up but after running across a few dozen dark spawn, she was too tired to care about the slight draft at the time. Now there was a chill in the tent that truly could have been avoided.
"I'm sorry to wake you early…" Leliana stumbled, "I know you aren't on watch for another hour now. I just… I just got a little worried." She avoided Terill's direct gaze. "I am glad you are alright… You are alright?" Leliana looked more flustered than she Terill had ever seen.
Terill nodded her head as she gained her senses back. "I suppose I am now. Thank you for waking me. I should be more used to nightmares by now, shouldn't I?" Terill laughed at herself and noticed Leliana's confused frown. "Grey wardens often get dreams… Unpleasant ones usually."
"Do we not all get dreams?" Leliana inquired, still frowning.
Terill laughed, "I suppose we do but these are different." Terill averted her gaze, "Very different."
She felt a hand on her shoulder, "Well, I lost a bet with Alistair today so I have his watch with you anyways… I mean, not to pry, but if you want someone to talk to about it you can join me by the camp fire a little earlier?" Leliana looked hopeful but soon doubted herself, "I mean, you do not need to feel obligated, and you certainly could use the rest. It was a stupid suggestion wasn't it?" Leliana shot Terill a sheepish grin and made to crawl out of the tent before Terill threw her hand up to stop her.
"Give me five minutes and I will certainly join you. I was hardly going to get any sleep as it was."
"Oh! Alright, it is no hurry however. We should have another few hours before the sun rises." Leliana sounded much happier at having Terill as a watch mate opposed to Morrigan. The two were not as combative as she first imagined them being but there was usually an uncomfortable silence that lay between them. The two were such opposites that all there really was to talk about was their differences.
Leliana crawled out, leaving Terill to stretch, and again, regret her laziness of the night before. It was certainly chilly in these wee hours of the morning so Terill made sure to dress in layers. It would be warmer by the fire but with the wind as it was, she wanted to keep herself as insulated as possible. Terill put on her clothes, armor, and a heavier cloak than she would normally wear and headed out to meet Leliana who had already sent the witch to bed.
Leliana looked up as Terill approached, nodding at the groggy elf who heavily took a seat next to Leliana who was fidgeting. Terill noted the pot of strong smelling elfroot tea next to the camp fire. It appeared to keep Leliana awake but she was not looking forward to the red-heads crash during the afternoon.
"Good morning!" Leliana chimed in a sickeningly cheerful tone. Terill could only groan in reply as she fought the headache she felt coming on and motioned to the pot of tea. Leliana understood the gesture and poured her a cup tea, offering her some of the honey she had in a jar close by. Terill simply sipped her unsweetened tea and pursed her lips, realizing how strong the minstrel had made it but continued to sip.
After some time, with Leliana shifting impatiently she finally decided to break the silence. "So… Are you truly alright?" She asked, looking over to Terill who would not meet her gaze.
Terill shrugged, "Besides feeling like I'm going insane, I am doing fairly well." She smirked.
Leliana looked unphased by her attempt to play off the dream. "I mean, about whatever it was you were dreaming? I know I am prying where I should not but… You were almost contorted when I came in to wake you." She looked over at Terill with pity in her eyes and it bothered Terill greatly. She hated pity, hated that look that made her feel weak but kept her anger from boiling up at the woman.
Terill had been feeling alone since she left her clan. She liked these shems, trusted them more than she should have, but she was so out of her element. She missed Tam, Merrill, and the other Dalish she spent nearly all her waking moments with. Rather than let her ever changing stream of consciousness spew from her mouth as she had with her clan, she kept largely silent, somehow gaining a filter with her human companions. At the same time, she felt the need to talk, the need for a confidant to tell all her worries to tell about the boiling feeling she has whenever she dreams now, how something tears at very being. Wrex was a suitable substitute for only so long. She wanted to tell Leliana, she seemed the most likely to keep the things to herself but Terill was too self-conscious to let the worst of it out. What would this woman think? Would she fear her leadership? She was surly going crazy, even if it was slowly.
Terill realized she had been silent for too long, losing her in her thoughts, her gaze staying on the dying fire. "Thank you for your concern Leliana… It is just more complicated than I can explain. I'd rather get my mind off of it in any case. May we change the subject?"
Leliana looked conflicted, "If you are sure you would not wish to talk of it… What do you want to talk of?" Terill shrugged non-committaly, "Come now warden." Leliana chuckled, "I do not wish to spend a second watch in complete silence. Else I will fall asleep on you." Leliana winked, meaning the last part to be suggestive but it went over the warden's head.
"Alright, alright." Terill conceded. "I suppose we do have some time to pass. Tell me about Orlais. I have spent much of my life in Ferelden, and all of it with the Dailish."
"As you wish." Leliana winked at the elf, this time with no meaning behind the gesture. Leliana told her of her life after her mother's passing, her place in an elderly nobles house, as well as her eventual time spent as a minstrel. Leliana seemed to carefully choose her words during certain topics, but not enough to become too obvious. Terill decided not to pry as Leliana had allowed her the same courtesy but made a note to ask of the topics on a later date. Terill also told Leliana of her life, her friendships in the clan, her limited interactions with Shem, as well as random memories that still brought her joy.
After about an hour of talk a silence broke the chatter. Leliana tentatively asked, "So… He was your mate?" She noticed Terill's look of confusion before clarifying, "Tamlem I mean. You talk of him often, where you together?"
Terill laughed again, "Oh creators no! No, no, no! He was certainly my best friend but was always sweet on Merrill. He was so hopeless though, they were both so completely oblivious." She smiled, "I like to think that, given a few years, they may have gotten over their shyness and married." She tried to keep her thoughts on the happy note rather than focusing on the fact that it could never be true.
"Oh? Did you not have a mate yet? I do find that hard to believe considering how beautiful you are." Leliana stroked her chin in thought, "Or perhaps your heart belonged to some mysterious wanderer, oh or a man promised to another!"
Terill shoved her playfully before she could continue her ridiculous train of thought. "Hardly! I was a late bloomer and even when I did become interested in romance… People were less susceptible to it." Terill scratched the back of her neck nervously.
"How do you mean?" Leliana cutely cocked her head to the side.
Terill sighed, "Welllll… I actually told the Keeper first… It isn't unheard of but the Dailish are not very… diverse…"
Leliana laughed again, "You are dancing around the question Terill!"
"I know! I know! I was... well I am… not interested in the sort of coupling that could produce children…" Terill looked away, blushing furiously.
"So you are interested in women?" Leliana asked bluntly.
Terill did not look back at the woman's gaze for fear of disgust. "…Yes…" She answered reluctantly.
She heard an even more jovial laugh coming from the minstrel and felt her hair ruffled. "You are so darling warden. Blushing over something like this! Feller of hundreds of dark spawn and blushes like a child so easily!" She smiled widely, letting her fondness for the younger woman edge into her voice.
Terill glared at her slightly, "Okay now, Feller of hundreds of darkspawn and a very loud bard if you do not leave me alone!"
"Awwwww, I dare you to try." Leliana winked at her. "I promise I will stop teasing, it just makes me feel better for how embarrassed I was when I woke you up. Now we both get to appear the easily flustered damsel."
"Fair enough." Terill agreed, "Now tell me more of these Orlesian perfumes. They seem so silly to me."
Terill and Leliana spent the rest of their watch talking of inconsequential things, laughing at each other, and comparing knowledge of constellations. It seemed easier than it had been before. Terill's mind did not wander to her troubles, her nightmares, the state of the ending world and focused solely on getting to know the woman next to her. Terill had certainly been attracted to the woman before and now felt it forming into a very inconvenient crush. She cursed herself for letting her mind be so clouded at a time like this but in a way, it kept her sane. Leliana was certainly far past jittery by the time the sun peaked and the whole band set out for another long day before the dew on the leaves around them settled.