Chapter 15: Bonnets and Honey
"I have done all I can for him at the moment", Anders said. He looked weary, dark circles under his eyes and his hair a mess. Sometime in between he had pulled it into a ponytail, but strands had slipped out and were framing his face. When he distractedly lifted his hand and buried it in his hair, all pretence of hairstyle was gone.
Aífe nodded slowly, looking at the two mages who had sat beside Nelaros for the better part of the night. Eynla looked only marginally better than Anders at this point, strands of her strangely silver hair glued to her sweaty skin. Aífe did not want to ponder how bad Nelaros' wounds had been if two healers looked this exhausted after healing him.
She pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against for while now, unable to take her eyes off her friend. The adrenaline had long since faded and she felt her elbow throb with pain - the result of landing with an awkwardly outstretched arm at some point. What was far worse, though, was that she had had time to think. The stone of dread that had settled in her gut had grown heavier with every thought.
"How is he?", she asked, controlling the shaking of her voice. Somehow she felt reluctant to break the quiet that had reigned in the last hours. Felt even more reluctant to let them go. There was nothing she could do on her own to help Nelaros.
"He will live", Anders said and cast her a speculative glance. She did not like the way he looked her over, even though it might only have been the glance of a healer assessing a possible patient. His eyes landed on her brow, where he had healed the deep cut and he nodded absentmindedly, gripping his staff tightly.
"The antidote you brought stopped the poison and we repaired the damage it had already done. The wound we closed from within and sealed it completely. It will still hurt, but there is no chance of wound fever. However...", Anders said and locked eyes with her. He made a gesture that indicated the elf and the many pieces of cloth and linen, soaked through with his blood. Aífe bit her lips at the sight.
"He lost a lot of blood. His recovery will not be immediate, not even with our healing magic. Make sure he drinks lots of water and eats properly, even if he has no appetite." Anders leaned on his staff heavily and then, slowly, turned towards the door. Eynla followed him, but did not yet avert her eyes from Aífe.
"Make sure to wash Alistair's wound once he has woken up again - clean boiled water, not water from the city well", Eynla instructed and Aífe nodded once again, biting down hard on her lower lip. The Warden's eyes were sharp on the young noble, speculating and when she reached for the door handle, there was clear hesitation in the movement.
"There is nobody outside, if you still think this is an elaborate trap", Aífe said quietly. Her voice was hoarse. "I am in your debt, immensely so. I owe you a life and I do not take my debts lightly. Thank you, Wardens. I will compensate you. If you would like me to, I will hand you my weapons and step out in front of you."
At her words, Anders turned to look at her again and for the first time, something very close to a smile played around his lips.
"I'm not a Warden anymore, no need to be so formal", he said and Aífe felt herself relax a little. "I'm a healer and I am glad I could help. I will come to look after your friends in some days to make sure the healing progresses as it should. They will sleep for quite a while. Meanwhile... you also need to rest. We will talk more when I return. Farewell."
He shot Eynla a glance Aífe could not interpret and then opened the door himself, stepping outside almost as if facing a challenge. When nothing happened, he lowered his staff slightly and vanished into the shadows that were slowly driven away by the rising sun.
"We will see you soon", Eynla said and put emphasis on the 'we'. Not that Aífe would have thought for a moment that Anders would return alone.
The female mage hesitated for a moment, her eyes fixed on Aífe. "Anders is right, the worst is over now. Rest, lady Cousland." Then Eynla mage followed her friend and closed the door behind herself.
Aífe locked it, the sound of the bolt clicking shut almost eerie in the silence they had left behind. She took a deep breath, shaky and long. As she turned, her eyes fell on Nelaros' still form, his blond hair pasted to his brow with sweat and dried blood.
The pool of blood beneath his bed was slowly drying, leaving a metallic taste in the air that felt acidic and bitter in her nose. Aífe stepped closer, her feet dragging through the puddle on the floor. His skin felt cold under her fingers and he did not move, his features deadly still and serene.
She swallowed, felt her knees buckle. Her hands gripped the bed tightly as she gave up the fight and let herself drop down, landing hard. Eyes burning and bitter gall in the back of her mouth she leaned forward, placed her head on the bed almost as if in silent prayer. Maybe it was a sort of prayer. She did not know.
Six children saved. Eleven still lost. Alistair wounded and poisoned. Nelaros almost dead. She had almost gotten them all killed.
Hot tears bubbled forth, dripping down her cheeks as her body started to tremble. She closed her eyes, suffocating the sobs that shook her body and dug her nails into the mattress. Her chest ached and the metallic taste in her mouth made her gasp for air. All too familiar. Too much blood and death. The pictures and words burned into her memory.
The gate will not hold.
Grimm was at her side within a moment, a big paw on her thigh, his head pushing against her arm. He wiggled in close, almost crawled onto her lap, licking her neck and her face. His body was warm against hers and she curled her arms around him, burying her face in his fur.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A quiet rustle ripped Aífe from her doze and she was on her feet within a moment, the dagger-blade gleaming in the dying candle-light. Her heart was in her throat as she looked around, eyes wide open. Grimm, who had been curled up beside her with his head on her lap, was also on his feet and bounded towards the front door with a snarl and bunched muscles.
It took Aífe far too long to realize that she had not heard anybody trying to force the door open and that everything was alright. She wavered for a moment and lifted her free hand to her head, trying to keep her balance as her vision darkened momentarily. The sling around her arm tightened, cutting into her skin lightly.
When she had shaken off the weakness that had crept up her legs, her memory returned. She had bound a string of yarn around her arm and the other end around the door handle leading outside – in case she fell asleep too deeply, any movement of the door whatsoever would wake her.
Grimm was listening at the front door, pushed into alertness by her own reaction, but after a moment returned to her side. He yawned heartily and looked at her with drooping eyes, obviously no less tired than she was. She put her hand on his head, taking the tip of one ear between her fingers and rubbing it gently and he leaned against her with a content hum. "Lie down, sleep", she said, but he simply pressed himself against her with more.
Her gaze was drawn to Alistair's form on the bed close-by. His arm was hanging over the edge and even though his eyes were still closed, she was sure he was waking up. A quick glance at the candle clock showed her that she had dozed longer than she had thought and she rubbed a hand over her face. With some embarrassment she realized that the half-sitting sleeping position she had taken up to be able to look directly at the door and still keep the two beds in sight had not only resulted in a crick in her neck - she had apparently also drooled. Great. Quickly she wiped her arm over her mouth, thankful that nobody had seen it.
Alistair stirred and she thought she heard the faint whisper of a moan. She quickly undid the knot that held the string around her arm to walk towards the bed. Grimm uttered a protesting huff and got up again, looking at her expectantly.
"Sleep, Grimm. All is well." Finally the hound moved to where she had just sat and curled up, resting his head on his paws.
Quickly she slipped into the other room and washed her face and her hands, relishing the cool refreshment. Well, at least she was fully awake now. She stretched heartily and with a look at Nelaros, who was still asleep, she returned to the other room and lit a few more candles.
By the time Aífe reached the bed, Alistair had opened his eyes. He seemed disoriented, his whiskey-coloured eyes searching and still full of sleep. When they landed on her the gears in his head seemed to take a while to work it all out, so she busied herself with filling a mug with the tea she had made a while ago. When he failed to say anything and just looked at her as if trying to put his memories together, she weakly waved a few fingers at him. "Hey."
A smile twitched over his lips and he carefully lifted his arm to rub over his eyes, stretching himself with a groan. His toes were sticking out from under the too short blanket and she worried her lip, subtly edging her way towards his legs and pulling the blanket a bit lower. However, that only served to expose more of his naked chest. He was too damn tall for her blanket.
Apparently the movement of the blanket had brought attention to a little fact she would have liked to hide from him a tiny bit longer. He went rigid and cast her a worried glance.
"Am I naked?" Alistair let his arm sink onto the mattress again. Carefully tugging the blanket into place over his toes, she shrugged noncommittally. Denying it would probably not work. It was fairly obvious. Probably even more so to her than to him.
"A bit", she admitted and hastily raised her hand to interrupt him when his eyes went round with shock. He looked at her like he was torn between flight and a girly shriek of dismay. She bit down hard on her lips to contain the chuckle. Considering that there was still crusted blood on his chest and that the wound was not yet fully healed, she thought it best to remain serious.
"I swear you still have your pants and I did not touch you inappropriately." Aífe nodded solemnly. Propriety was such a vague word anyhow. Plus, his pants perhaps were not counting as much. They were not much more than tight linen breeches, barely enough to provide a protection against the chaffing caused by his chainmail armour. She had in all actuality prayed quite fervently for him to not wake up as she stripped him of his leg armour. The situation would have been too awkward to avert with a simple 'Hey, how are you doing?', no matter how charming the accompanying smile.
There was a rather long pause, before he answered and when he did, he sounded somewhat suffocated. "Thanks. I guess." He looked so obviously ill at ease that she could not help but titter quietly, making him look at her with thinly veiled scepticism. "Glad to see that my discomfort brings you joy."
"I am sorry", she said, not quite suppressing the grin that lifted the corners of her mouth. "I removed your chainmail armour and cut away the bits of tunic left on you, so it would not cling to your wound and dry on there", she explained.
Alistair still did not look entirely comfortable with the situation, but at least he seemed less likely to shout bloody rape and flee into the streets of Kirkwall. Aífe already considered that a small triumph. He tried to sit up and managed so with a groan, his hand flying to the wound on the right side of his chest. Aífe's fingers twitched as she shifted her weight, unsure whether she should assist him.
"Thanks", he repeated and she winced at his pained expression. However, within a moment it had left his face again and he lifted his hand, looking at the still open wound curiously.
Having noticed how rough his voice sounded, she remembered the mug of tea she was holding and offered it to him. He took it with a nod and drained it with a few gulps.
The number of grimaces he cut immediately after was quite astounding. She could see pure disgust, a moment of nausea, in between the desperate try for a blank face and right after that disgust again. Mixed with a small gagging reflex he quickly suppressed.
"Uhm... you might have wanted to drink that slowly. It is disgusting", Aífe said when he turned to look at her. And put on her best charming smile when sent her a testy look from under lowered eyelids.
"Thanks", Alistair repeated and did entirely not mean it this time. He handed the mug back to her with a shudder and she took it and quickly put it away.
"On the positive side, it is very good against fever, pain and headaches." Apparently that did not make up for the absolute feeling of eeew he had just gone through, judging from his look. In a last-ditch effort she raised her arms in fake enthusiasm. "Yay!"
"I feel like I need to scrub my tongue", Alistair said dryly, not joining in and instead started to look around. "The mages are gone?" There was something like relief in his voice, but she was not quite sure she had heard it right.
"Yes, they left some time ago, actually", she explained. When she saw his surprised expression, she pointed over her shoulder towards the candle that had burned low. "You slept a day or perhaps a bit more." The complete lack of windows made it difficult to keep track of time, even if she was thankful of it now. Fewer entry points.
"So long?", he asked and shook his head. A thought seemed to strike him then, for he set up straight and cast an anxious glance over his shoulder towards the other room. "How is Nelaros? Is he alright?"
"He will heal, he just needs time." Aífe smiled at the concern in his voice, taking a step back to be able to look at Nelaros in the other room, but as expected he had not moved at all. She returned her attention to Alistair, who was prodding his wound, and scowled at him, fighting the urge to swat at his hand.
"What do you think you are doing?", she demanded to know and he looked at her with guilt written all over his face. "Do you want to irritate the wound? It is still raw and open, the healing was not yet completed. You poking it will certainly not make it heal any faster." Which was stating the obvious, but at least she had distracted him for the moment.
"It itches", he murmured and finally let his hand sink, probably only because she kept staring at it. Good thing, too. The next step would have been physical intervention. "The wound didn't seem so bad to me, was it difficult to heal?", he asked.
Aífe shook her head. "It was worse than I had expected, but not overly difficult to heal. From what I understood, Eynla thought it better to leave the body time to work and excrete everything that is not supposed to be in the wound and only seal it up at a later time point. She conserved her energy to help Anders and they left when Nelaros was stabilized and they had exhausted themselves." She was pretty sure they had been expecting an attack on them any moment and was equally sure they had not completely drained themselves during the healing, but she was thankful all the same.
"Oh." Alistair seemed rather surprised and raised his eyebrows at that revelation. "I see." Somehow, he seemed to be lost in thought and Aífe grabbed a chair and drew it up next to the bed. That ripped him from his thoughts and he looked at her.
"You do not like mages, I guess", she observed and settled down. He had been in blind panic when Eynla had entered the room to heal him. Aífe had assumed it were the effects of the poison back then – racing heart, widened pupils, erratic breathing. However, somehow his focus had been on the mage all the while. Once she had cut off his view of Eynla, he had managed to calm down. Plus, he had mentioned that he had undergone Templar training - so a habitual wariness of mages might have made matters worse. It would explain why his reaction to the mage had been quite so severe.
"I am sorry, there was no other way to help you." Had she been able to avoid bringing more people into this, she would have done so gladly.
"That is not it", he said rather quickly and fidgeted, fingers curled into the blanket. "I don't dislike mages, really. I just..." He trailed off and weakly motioned with one hand, desperately searching for words. After a moment he shrugged his shoulders weakly. "It's a long story, not really important."
"Do not worry, no need to speak of it", Aífe said and smiled, getting up again. "I had simply assumed you were not very fond of mages operating without supervision. Even if they are Wardens. You did say you were trained as a Templar, no?" She knew the feeling well enough - some memories better rested somewhere deep within and were not woken when it could be avoided. There were stories she was not ready to speak of, either.
Their eyes met and just when she thought he would say something, his gaze intensified and a frown creased his brow. The blanket slipped down to his waist when he inched forward, wincing slightly, but not taking his eyes off of her.
"Are you alright?", he asked quietly and she barely stopped herself from raising a hand to her eyes. They still felt swollen and hot, but she had not thought it was so obvious. The smile she plastered on her face was an almost automatic response, a motion of her hand waving the concerns away.
"I am the one who did not get poisoned, remember? Still a few hurting bruises here and there, but nothing bad", she said and quickly turned around to leave the room and step towards the fire. Her eyes wandered towards Nelaros.
His breathing was even and the sweat had dried. He seemed serene - and not quite as pale as he had hours before. She had removed the bloody linens and bandages and tried to get him out of the bloody armour, which had only been possible to a certain extent without the risk of waking him. Still, he seemed peaceful and she relaxed.
As she stood there unmoving for a moment, she could feel Alistair's eyes on her, heard the bed creak as he shifted. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything was alright.
Quickly she grabbed the bowl of cooled tea and some other things she had arranged on the table next to the fire and returned to him.
"Do you have a headache? Cramps?", she asked before he could say anything else and settled down on the chair again. As she put everything on the nightstand, strands of her completely loose bun fell into her face and she crinkled her nose in annoyance.
"Mostly alright", Alistair answered. When she stared at him quite long enough, he rubbed his neck with one hand and shrugged with his healthy shoulder. "A bit of a headache, perhaps a bit nauseous. Actually, that might be the result of that awful bit you gave me to drink. Tasted liked liquid tree."
"I see. Is the wound throbbing?", she inquired and started stirring the water in the bowl. She totally ignored any and all side blows aimed at her tea.
"Actually, not until you asked", Alistair answered and pressed his lips together, craning his neck to get a better look, fingers obviously itching to touch it again. Resisting the urge under her stare, he instead looked at the things she had brought and cocked an eyebrow at them.
"I should wash the wound to remove all dried blood and grime as best as possible. I did not want to wake you while you slept - and I thought it highly probably that I would actually give you a heart attack should you wake up just then", she explained.
"Uhm", he uttered and eyed her warily. "Thanks for... waiting?" It sounded more like a question than a statement and she almost laughed, but caught herself in time. Laughing would probably not be helping the situation. But he looked so very much like a deer facing a full-grown Mabari, that she had a hard time containing herself.
"I would offer to close my eyes so I don't see what shall not be see, but I am afraid it is too late for that. I have seen all there is to see above the blanket already last time and I promise I shall not peek underneath." For a moment she thought she had worsened the situation rather than improved it, but then he laughed. He pressed a hand to his chest close to the wound, as if to steady himself and keep himself from moving too much. "Plus", she added, "it might be advisable to actually look as I work, so I do not end up giving the wall a good wipe-down."
"Very encouraging, really. I guess my modesty is lost anyhow, then", Alistair answered when he finally had reduced his laughter to a few quiet chuckles. "You're sure you're qualified for this? Because, you know, that looks kinda red." He pointed vaguely at the bowl and raised his eyebrows. "Not that I want to doubt the skills of the woman at whose mercy I am."
Glad the atmosphere had become lighter, she leaned back and looked at the bowl, idly swivelling the tea within.
"Och, now", she said and tried very hard to look innocent. "I am perfectly harmless."
"Ye-eah." Alistair squinted at her. Alright, so innocent did not work on her. "I might have believed that if I had not seen you stab... I lost count of how many. Quite a few men, anyhow. Now, though, not so much", he said and she shrugged with a sigh.
"Pfft", she uttered, dismissing that argument completely. "Aside from that." She soaked a piece of clean cloth in the tea as she talked. "This is willow-bark tree with a few blossoms of kidney-vetch, see?", she asked and lifted the bowl to his face, so he could sniff it. He did so very reluctantly.
"Okay. So... red is good?", he inquired doubtfully.
"Kidney-vetch promotes wound healing, it helps to calm the skin. Willow-bark reduces the pain and prevents fever. Willow-bark is also what you drank. My Nan used to make it for me, whenever I got hurt", she explained and wrung out the cloth. "So yes, red is very good. I am living proof."
"Well, if Nan said so." He seemed still a bit doubtful, but she thought that was rather the circumstances than the colour of the tea, so she moved to sit on the edge of the bed and take a closer look at the wound. The edges of the cut still looked nasty, but were much smoother now than they had been before. The skin looked irritated, but not overly so and at the very least he did not look feverish.
"You sure I cannot do that myself?", he asked just as she was about to reach out, so she stopped herself and looked him over. The angle made it quite impossible for him to actually see the wound completely.
"You could", she said slowly, "But you would only give me a good show and not clean it properly anyhow. You cannot see it from the right angle."
And just like that a flush bloomed over his face and she fought the giggles bubbling up her chest very, very hard. She was aware that lack of sleep made her stupid. However, she had not been aware it made her say things without letting them pass through the filter between her brain and her mouth first. Seeing a tall, grown warrior this uncomfortable over a simple comment was just too entertaining – and at the moment, she was very easily entertained. Sometime before she fell asleep she had laughed a full five minutes at Grimm twitching and huffing in his sleep.
"You know", he drawled after a moment of silence, "I am pretty sure I should have somebody defend my honour. Some knight in shining armour perhaps."
"Oh, but I think they require you to wear a pretty dress, flail your arms and actually have some evil threat looming over you. Now, I could do the evil threat-thing, but I am afraid I cannot provide a pretty dress in your size. Hm. Maybe a flowery bonnet would help?" Aífe looked him over critically, having a hard time to remain serious.
"Aren't you a bit small to be an evil threat? I had assumed they were required to be... bigger", Alistair said thoughtfully, mirroring her look. "More importantly... You have a flowery bonnet? Is it pretty?"
"He-ey!" She tried her best to look upset at both suggestions, putting her hands on her hips. "I will have you know that I am a Chantry-authorized evil threat. In fact, I have had full-grown storms named after me! Size does not matter!"
"You keep telling yourself that", he answered with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling.
They realized the innuendo at the same time. He cleared his throat and looked over her shoulder at Grimm, the flush blooming anew. Aífe meanwhile busied herself by soaking the cloth again and wringing it out.
"Seriously, though, I think it would be best if you let me clean the wound. The only other option is Grimm and the fact that I have opposable thumbs clearly speaks for me", she said and waited for his nod before she moved closer and started to wash the wound carefully.
He winced when the cloth touched his skin, but showed no other sign of discomfort after. Of course, judging by the amount of the scars he carried, he had indeed seen worse and was used to pain. Not a pleasant thought.
She worked in silence, cleaning off the dried blood and soaking the wound in the tea for a bit. Alistair seemed to relax with time, his eyes closed in thought. She was almost done when he suddenly jerked upright and she barely managed to withdraw her hand to avoid smacking his chest.
"The assassin!", he exclaimed and Aífe scrambled to her feet, fingers reaching for the dagger in her boots. Only after a moment she realized that there was no threat and that there was, in fact, nobody behind her. Her heart was racing and had jumped into her throat. She let out a shaky breath and cast him a dirty look, sheathing the dagger again. The cloth soaked with tea had dropped from his chest to his lap.
"Ehehehe… I just... remembered the woman you had brought here and wondered what happened", Alistair said and looked at her sheepishly, an apologetic smile on his lips.
"Next time, please try not to give me a heart-attack while remembering things." She hunched her shoulders, exhaling audibly and quietly settled down on the chair again, picking up the cloth.
"Sorry. Good reflexes, though." His gaze had wandered to her boots and a quizzical frown creased his brow. "It's like you have daggers everywhere."
Funnily enough, she felt quite naked since she had slipped out of her armour. The tunic and breeches offered absolutely no protection and little room to store weapons. The dagger in her boot had been the only one accessible instantly. All the other daggers and blades were still where she had slept and some of them already packed away after cleaning.
"That is because I do have daggers everywhere", she said finally and decided that the wound was clean enough for the moment. She put cloth and the bowl of tea away and instead took the small jar she had brought into her hands.
"I am not sure how much you still know of last night. I had gotten the woman to tell me of the antidote - and then had to go out to collect as many vials as I could. After I had tried it on her and saw that it worked, we gave it to you and Nelaros. While the mages were healing you, I tried to interrogate her further. She told me very little. I know she was from Antiva, I know that the poison was a quite complex one, nothing a layman can whip up. She was too scared to tell me much, but I have a suspicion. I will have to ask around to confirm it." She leaned back and saw that he was watching her intently.
"I blindfolded her and took her to the other side of the docks after walking around aimlessly for quite a bit, so she would not be able to remember where this house is. Then I left her. I guess by now she is long gone." Either long gone or dead, judging by how scared the woman had been of her own people. Aífe hoped it had not been an act and that the assassin had really disappeared - otherwise she would have been able to tell her friends far too much. She should probably have killed the woman, just to be sure, but… Well.
"What about the guards?", he asked and watched her prepare a few bandages, cutting the fabric into stripes so she could use it to properly dress his wound.
"Which guards? Oh, you mean those we left at the coast. To be honest, I had all but forgotten about them." She lowered her hands and shook her head. They had completely slipped her mind until he brought them up again. "My guess is that they have long escaped by now. No use telling anybody about them now."
"What if they are still there?", Alistair asked.
"Then they can rot and be feasted on by rats for all I care", she murmured and meant it. When she saw the look on his face, she sighed deeply and shrugged. "I will let the City Guard know that somebody might be there as soon as I manage to. But it has no priority. Stop looking at me like that." Quickly averting her eyes she avoided whatever look he might have shot her and instead coated the biggest bandage she had with the contents of the jar.
"I am almost done, I will bandage the wound and then we are done." She hoped a change of topic would distract him and indeed he was shifting in his bed, leaning over to look at the jar speculatively.
"What is that? You want to smear that on the wound?" He had lifted one eyebrow and tipped his head to the side as if that would enable him a better view of the jar. Or a better comprehension of her thoughts.
"It is honey", she answered and tried very hard to keep the honey on the bandages and not let it drip on her lap. He laughed at the statement, but when she did not join in, he stopped after a few moments.
"Wait, you are serious? You are going to smear honey on the wound?!" He looked incredulous and slightly alarmed.
"You have no trust in me whatsoever, do you? I know what I am doing!", Aífe groused and crinkled her nose, looking up from her work. "Honey keeps the wound clean and prevents wound fever. It is much better than most herbs and it is easy to come by on top of it."
"But… it's honey." To call him doubtful would have been an understatement. He looked at the bandage as if it was some sort of moldy bread that she was about to rub over the wound.
Pointedly she grabbed the collar of her tunic and pulled it down over her shoulder. Good that it was so huge, otherwise her little demonstration would not have worked as nicely. She traced a finger along her collarbone until she found the rather big and jagged scar that she followed with her finger from just above her armpit up to her shoulder and towards her back. By now it had faded a bit, but the white scar tissue was still clearly visible.
"See this? Treated with that tea and honey for several days and stitched up. It kept the wound clean until a mage could heal it. No wound fever", she said and tapped her finger against the scar.
He was clearly biting the inside of his cheek as he kept from saying something, looking from her scar to his chest. Admittedly, he sported several scars that looked even worse than hers. She could still not get over the fact that she could clearly see where something had bitten a piece out of his lower arm off. The indentation was visible. That was just wrong. Even so, that was not the worst of it. The claw-slashes running up over his shoulder towards his back. A nasty burn scar covering a part of his upper arm. Not even to speak of the long scar running over his lower torso.
His expression was way too smug when he lifted his eyes to hers again. She fought the childish urge to pull up the tunic and show him her scars in return. There was no way she was going to be this childish.
"So… honey helped with that wound, huh?", he asked almost conversationally.
Aífe cast him a regal look, carefully put the coated bandage on the nightstand and got up, lifting the tunic until she could see the edge of her breast band. Twirling so she could show him her back, she pointed at the scar showing where an arrow had punctured her skin just below her ribs. Turning a tiny bit more she pointed at a still clearly visible scar of a nasty stab wound had once forced her to her knees. There was an almost invisible matching scar on her belly, where the knife had excited again. Turning again, she stretched out her hand. The burn scars were barely visible at this point, but still showed that most of the back of her hand had been affected.
"Burn scar and arrow wound were treated this way and healed nicely. The stab wound, however, was not and almost started to fester. Do you get my point now?", she said. So she had continued the little pissing contest. Nothing immature about that. She was just trying to make a point.
He had the gall to laugh, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her hand that she had spread out practically under his nose. With a small groan he pushed himself to sit upright again, leaning forward to reveal his back, which only served to show the whole glory of the slash scars. Not even to speak of the many small white lines that she could at this point barely interpret anymore.
Alright. So he had more scars than her. Whatever.
"Droll", she said and let the hem of her tunic drop again, plopping down on the chair. She crossed her legs and made sure he saw that she was looking over his scars carefully. He looked like a freaking blade-cushion. "I am not sure anybody has informed you, but you are supposed to avoid wounds, not collect them. That is what the shield is for, you hide behind it", she explained in a conspiratorial whisper.
"Oooooh", Alistair uttered and leaned in closer. He had opened his eyes wide in mock understanding. "And here I was, thinking I am to bring it along because it makes me look good and brings out the brown in my eyes."
"No, that is what the flowery bonnet is for", she answered and could not help the grin that spread on her lips. "Will you let me put on the bandages now? Pretty please?"
As a way of answer he let himself drop back against the cushion, the twinkle still lighting up his eyes. "If anything starts to lick me, it will be your fault", he murmured.
"I will take responsibility if such a thing occurs." Aífe picked up the bandage again and leaning forward, placed it over the wound carefully. Within minutes she had managed to dress the wound to her satisfaction.
When she was done, she got up to wash her hands and when she returned, Alistair was flexing his arm to see how much movement the dressing allowed him. Somehow, he did not even look all too bothered with the wound and barely affected by the poison.
He looked up as he noticed her staring at him and cocked his head to the side in question when she did not say anything for a few moment. She walked closer slowly, a faint smile on her lips as she put her hands on the chair's backrest.
"Alistair, I want to thank you. Without your aid… I am not sure Nelaros would still be alive. I am not sure any of us would be. I owe you much, you had little reason to help us and yet you did. Thank you", she said.
He shifted around uncomfortably, shrugging as he looked away from her again and folding his hands in his lap. Finally, after a moment, he looked at her again and a trace of a smile was pulling at a corner of his mouth. "Don't mention it."
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Author's Comment:
Long chapter is long. *coughs* I simply had to use the chance and let Aífe and Alistair have a bit of fun. Plus, semi-nekkid Alistair and honey on his chest. :p Purely for medical purposes, of course. Nothing else. So, a few things about this chapter:
1) The first part I had initially planned not to write, but only mention with Aífe's thoughts. However, I could not quite show Aífe's little breakdown nicely in this way, so I ammended and this is one of the reasons this is a long chapter
2) The second reason is, I wanted to tie up loose ends, answer some questions that need to be answered and actually have Alistair and Aífe talk a bit. I hope nobody thinks the progress is too fast too soon, but in my mind they are both finally allowed themselves to breath a bit and both use humour to deal with this kind of situation.
3) This is written from Aífe's POV, so after much back and forth I decided not to actually let Alistair ask for a glass of whiskey. I did not fit with the final version of this chapter, even though he's longing for his Nr.1 help to reduce stress, but more about that in the next chapter. I promise I did not forget about his alcoholism problem and I will not let it drop as though it is nothing. =)
4) All remedies mentioned in here are not made up, but actually true. They were used in medieval times for wound-treatment and are still used in alternative medicine/non-civilized parts of the world. I looked up far more information than I finally put in here, but I like to put in bits and pieces like this, to show that healing magic is not the only way people can and will treat wounds in Thedas.
5) ... My AC is almost as long as my chapter, if I keep writing like this. :p So I'll stop here in terms of chapter-comments.
HOWEVER, I will say: Thanks, Eynla, for reading over this to check for mistakes. =) If there are still any, please let me know and I will correct them. I also want to thank everybody who reviewed the last chapters - it is a great motivation and makes me feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy. X'3 Thanks Graymalkyn, BlondMoments, alyssacousland, LadyMimzy, EkoCentric. Thanks also to everybody who favoured this and is following me. Thanks a ton. :)
I hope this chapter was enjoyable and the banter was funny not only in my own head. X'D Let me know what you think of it.
Next chapter features:
A genius plan, a freaked out Alistair, a decision that will be very important for the story and a revelation of sorts. :3