Chapter 19: Night
They left Kirkwall the very same night. No sooner were the mages gone than Aífe started to buzz around – with some difficulty she managed to squeeze everything into just three packs, her weapons included.
Not allowing them more than an hour after Nelaros finally woke to eat and get ready, they left in the middle of the night. To Alistair's surprise they did not head towards the city gates, but instead walked along the docks until they reached a small rowing boat that had undoubtedly seen better times. In it they rowed to a small bay east of Kirkwall, where they left the boat behind and travelled on foot further north-east, entering the woods – Aífe had set it all up before, wishing to evade watchful eyes.
The dim light of stars and moon barely broke through the dense tree tops and until Aífe found a deer trail it was hard to keep a steady pace. Grimm was trotting ahead of her, leading the way, and she studied the path carefully to make sure she would not fall over a root or bang her head on a branch. Not that it helped her escape that fate completely, she thought, rubbing her head.
The night was quiet, except for the hooting of an owl not too far away. It sounded dismayed, if hoots went that far in expression, probably because they were scaring away all the mice and rats with their approach. Aside from a few instructions she had given as they left the city, they had not talked much at all that night. It could have been pure exhaustion or a fear of being already followed, but it felt like there was more to it.
Aífe was beginning to feel uncomfortable. No, scratch that. Uncomfortable was too soft a word for the situation. She was feeling like she needed to slip into the shadows and quietly bang her head against a tree until the thoughts stopped piling up on top of each other until they all but pounded against the last little area of sanity she had preserved over the years.
She was all too aware of the men behind her – Nelaros's uneven breathing, off somewhere to the left behind her and the sound Alistair's armoured boots made on the thin trail. What really got to her, though, was the glare directed at her. She could feel it. Given a few more hours, she was sure Alistair would manage to burn a hole into the back of her head by sheer willpower alone.
When they left the city, he had quietly plucked the heaviest pack from her hands to sling over his shoulders without giving her any chance to protest and had not spoken since then. At first she had been thankful, as it had given her the chance to fully focus her attention on their surroundings to make sure they weren't followed, but now… now it was starting to gnaw on her nerves. She could deal with silence, mostly even embraced it. This, though… this felt sullen.
An hour ago or so she had tried to bring up a conversation, but only Nelaros had answered her and eventually, she had stopped talking, knowing that the elf needed to conserve his energy.
Just then she heard somebody behind her stumble and from the direction of the sounds and the heavy grunt, she guessed it could only be Alistair.
"Are you alright?" she ventured to ask.
As expected, she was greeted by silence. Aífe fought the urge to turn around and face him then and there. She could feel his eyes on her with every step, felt the icy quietness as they slowly made their way through the forest. Little needles digging into her skin, an itch she could not scratch.
The path was narrow and it slowed them down. Even if it hid them from searching eyes and dampened the sound of their steps, she was starting to wish she had chosen one of the roads not all that far off, it would have allowed them to walk faster. It would have allowed her to escape the oppressing silence a bit sooner.
For a moment she wondered whether she should once again scout ahead - not for very long, just to be able to breath and order her thoughts. Just as she was about to let them know of her plans, her eyes fell on Nelaros, bracing himself on a branch to step over a large root. His face looked clammy, strands of hair sticking to his pale skin.
Aífe bit her lip and came to a stop, eyes darting from him to Alistair. The warrior simply looked at her, eyes unwavering and dark. He looked tight-lipped, his furrowed eyebrows completing the frown he had been wearing since they had left the city. It would have been easier to face him if she hadn't know that she deserved the anger. Quickly averting her eyes again, she made a big show of stretching her arms over her head, groaning.
"I think I might need a short rest," she let them know and set her pack down.
Grimm was at her side instantly, sniffing first her hands and then the pack. When he realized it contained no food, he instead sat down and scratched his ear.
Nelaros came to stand next to her, a mild smile on his face as he regarded her. "I'm fine, we don't need to stop here. I can keep going."
Looking at him, she came to the conclusion that he might have said the very same thing with two broken legs, a missing eye and a slightly punctured lung, just so as not to inconvenience anybody. She gave him a deadpan look and then let herself drop to the ground next to the Mabari, digging through her pack for a water skin, which she held out to the elf. He took it wordlessly and sighed before lifting it to his lips.
"I, however, am not as fine and I think I need to rest my feet for a few minutes. Settle down, Nelaros, stretch your legs. Drink it all, I have another one in my pack and we will reach the village soon." She stroked Grimm's head, when he bedded it in her lap. Eventually, she mustered enough resolve to turn to Alistair.
"You too, Alistair. There is also still jerky left, if you feel a bit peckish," she said.
Even though he set down his pack then, he did not sit and only rolled his shoulders to reduce the tension in his muscles, gazing into the dark forest. He looked annoyed, even though she had tried to give him space to adjust and come to terms with it all. He either contained his enthusiasm supremely well or was considering to throw her off the next best cliff. Luckily, there were few cliffs in the forest – and she would simply steer clear of ledges and fissures of any kind.
"I'm not hungry, thank you," Alistair said with a low rumble in his voice.
He had probably tried to sound neutral, she thought, but had been unable to. She could see the muscles twitch in his jaw. His mood seemed to worsen – back in Kirkwall he had been in denial and had numbly taken cognizance of the current state. It had allowed her to pummel him into joining them for the moment without too much resistance on his part. Now he was slowly slithering into anger, if the silent treatment and glares were any indication. She faintly wondered when bargaining would start and what he was willing to offer to get out and away from all this. And by this she meant mainly herself. Probably something big, really big. Like a cow. Or a horse. Or the odd sacrificial drake.
"You want to rest at the village?" Nelaros asked quietly, giving her a welcome chance to focus her attention on something else. He settled down next to her, wincing as he lowered himself carefully.
"I reckon the village is a little under an hour from here, we should get there just after sunrise. There is no inn, though, and I am still not feeling overly confident that we escaped unnoticed. I would rather simply pick up our horses and travel east for another two hours, then we could make camp away from the streets and rest during the day. It makes it harder to surprise us at camp," she explained and looked him over carefully.
Nelaros rubbed the tip of his ear absentmindedly, nodding. Without thinking she stretched out her hand and squeezed his shoulder, offering him a smile.
"I would also not be opposed to making camp somewhere close to here. I am certainly tired enough to sleep just about anywhere, even in a dragon's lair, if it is just dry enough and I have enough space to roll out my blankets," she suggested.
Nelaros shook his head quickly, straightening up and squaring his shoulders. "You don't need to change your plan just because of me. I'm a bit tired, but I will manage a few more miles. I'll tell you when it gets too exhausting, I promise."
She knew it to be a lie – he would only speak up at the very last moment, when he was already on the verge of collapse. Had she not mentioned her plan, perhaps he would have agreed to camp here, but as it was… Worrying her lip, she looked past him along the narrow trail. It was unlikely they would find a good spot here, especially to light a fire in the dense undergrowth would pose a problem.
What was more – they indeed did not have any fresh supplies, the time had simply not been enough to procure them and she had not wanted to risk visiting the market in Kirkwall again. She had only bought what was absolutely necessary and now there were only a few bites left and everybody was too polite to actually eat them. Especially Alistair had seemed to be still hungry. Her gaze lingered on him until he turned to look at her, his eyes boring into hers. Stubbornly refusing to look away, she braced her arms on her knees.
They remained like that for a long moment – a painful moment, if she was to be honest, but there was a part of her that refused to bend her head and step down. She would not back down, not like this.
It was Nelaros who broke the silence when he got up again and cleared his throat audibly. He had recovered a bit of colour, but she was still not sure it would be wise to force him to march yet another hour. He took that decision off her shoulder when he offered her a reassuring smile, grabbed his bag and started to follow the path again.
"We'll be faster once we have the horses – and if we collect them before noon you won't have to pay for another day," he reasoned.
Aífe quirked and eyebrow at him, quick to get up and fasten her pack again. As if one day more or less of payment would be of any importance at this point. She heard Alistair sigh behind her and then the barely audible sound of armour plates scratching over each other as he started to follow the elf.
It took them indeed not much more than another hour to reach the small village on the outskirts of the forest and Aífe left them in the safety of the slowly dwindling shadows as she went down to collect the horses.
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Aífe eased herself into the cold water, releasing her held-in breath loudly before she dipped her head under completely. Even a little hesitation and she would scream like a little girl and leave the water as fast as she could. The little lake was cold – the sun had only just risen above the horizon an hour or two ago and barely any sunrays had touched it since then, hidden between the trees as it was.
She came back up and leaned her head back, taking in a deep breath as she opened her eyes and looked up at the sky. Exhaustion was gnawing on her, but the water felt good. It rinsed away the blood and sweat from her skin and left it fresh and clean. The process was almost meditative – her fingers rubbing over sore muscles, assessing and judging how she had gotten out of the last few fights. There were still a few raw spots and more than just one bruise, but another couple of health poultices would cure that. She had not dared to drink them before they made camp, they always made her so very sleepy and for sure she would not have been able to stay awake then.
A smile pulled on her lips as she scrubbed her body with the scented soap she had brought along, removing dirt and stink equally. She took her sweet time, despite the goose bumps that were trailing along her skin, and only after she had washed her hair and could not ignore the shivers any more did she leave the water with reluctance.
Grimm immediately got up and stretched himself with a yawn. He had stayed far away from the water, unwilling to poke even a toe into it. His dark eyes rested on her as she dried herself and wrapped in a clean, long tunic that almost reached her knees, fastening it with a broad belt.
"Sure you do not need a bath yourself, my sweet?" she cooed at him, scratching him beneath the chin.
His stumpy little tail wagged lazily as he regarded her and uttered a sound not entirely unsimilar to a sneeze. His way of decidedly declining suggestion.
"You, Ser, are a sissy," his mistress murmured and shook her head, letting her hand glide to his ear to rub it between her fingers, before she got up again and collected her clothes. From the smell of them, she should probably burn or bury them. Or burn and then bury them.
Too much time had elapsed since she had been able to afford the luxury of a bath – even one like this, just quickly jumping into a lake. Up until now she had still tasted the salt of the sea on her skin and had been unable to remove all traces of blood from beneath her fingernails.
By the time she had pulled on a fresh pair of buckskin breeches and slipped into her boots, reality imposed itself on her again. Her movements slowed and she stilled for a moment, looking ahead through the trees towards where the camp should be just a few dozen meters away.
She could go to bed and finally close her eyes to sleep. In the last hour she had almost nodded off once, sitting on her horse's broad back. The only reason she had not dipped over and slid off the horse had been the fact that the gentle gelding had neighed upon feeling the sudden shift in weight. How long till a full night's sleep? A week, give or take a few days.
Sleep would be the easy option, the one that would feel good at first, oh so very good. Not even the cold water had managed to fully clear her mind of the foggy feeling. If she stood around and contemplated her options for too long, she would probably fall asleep right here and now. Chances were she would not even wake up when she fell over and landed flat on her face.
That option was tempting. Very tempting.
Except that there was that part of her that refused to flee into her bedroll and avoid the confrontation that she knew she would have to have sooner or later. It had been brewing the whole night. A few years ago she would have undoubtedly done exactly that – wait till the matter resolved itself or until somebody else solved it. That behaviour was a luxury she had not been able to afford in the last two years and she did not plan to revive to that habit.
Only when Grimm huffed quietly at her side did she realize that she had stopped, caught up in her thoughts, with her brush stuck in her hair.
"I should talk to him," she murmured and sighed.
The Mabari cocked his head to the side and whined quizzically.
"Alistair, I mean."
A conversational bark, then Grimm trotted ahead towards the camp.
"I do not even know what to say. What does one say in such a situation? Pardon me for dragging you into mortal danger? Also, I severely apologize for that bit of poison in your blood and the fact that you not only could have died, but also had to risk your life for us. Pity you did not run fast enough away from me when you had the chance. On the plus side, there is an extra bed roll I can offer you along with the sparkling personality that I am. Just try not to get caught by the occasional fire ball or deadly arrow – oh, and when you see an angry Tevinter magister running at you, never mind, he rarely manages to create a full-blown storm," she muttered, following him. Absentmindedly brushing her hair, she did not notice the hound stopping and almost stumbled over him, catching herself on his back in the very last moment.
He was giving her the look. Dark eyes fixed on her and eyebrows quirked that he should not have in the first place because he was a dog and since when where they supposed to be able to look so judgemental?
"What? There is absolutely nothing I could tell him to make this any better. He does not wish to return to Ferelden and the one single positive aspect of all this for him is that the chances of a painful death are ever so slightly smaller in a group than on his own. All he has from this are disadvantages, problems and danger," Aífe defended herself.
Grimm tilted his head to the side and let his tongue loll out. She contemplated her last words and then hung her head.
"Giving it more thought, I have to correct myself. The probability of a slow and painful death probably has risen even more for him. After all, I have not yet had an encounter with a narcissistic and slightly megalomaniac Tevinter magister this here lovely month and I am pretty sure we can also count on the one or other venomous giant spider of doom trying to eat us while we sleep." She was not entirely sure who was more disturbed by the overly sweet smile that accompanied her words. Probably Grimm. He blinked slowly, rolling his tongue back in.
Silly dog. He should know her antics my now. And her slightly malfunctioning brain.
"It is all a mess. I am a mess." She let her hand drop to her side and looked at the hound, taking another deep breath. Lowering her eyes, she slid her fingers into the folds of the old tunic she had stripped out off earlier. She could feel the rough paper of the envelope under her fingers, strangely calming. The movement with which she pulled it out was almost tender, her thumb rubbing over it again and again.
Without further care she dropped the dirty clothes and her brush and turned the paper around, so she could see her name written in carefully drafted letters. Just that made her feel warm inside, the tilt of the i and the little e that was a bit too long at the end. She knew that Fergus had taken special care when writing her name – he had terrible handwriting and always plastered the letters too close together. What really caught her eye was the red seal, still unbroken. The laurel wreath, resembling two wings, was pressed into the wax, her family's heraldry.
She would not open it. Not yet.
Suddenly she could feel the Mabari's weight settle against her hip, his head rubbing against her as he shifted and whined. His teeth closed softly around her pinky, nibbling on it in something akin to a caress.
Lowering her eyes she met Grimm's gaze. "Alright. Let us return to camp."
She tucked the envelope away under her belt, ever careful, and then started to walk back towards the camp slowly. Through the trees she could see the fire blazing and the lone figure of Alistair sitting with his broad back towards her.
Taking a deep breath she steeled herself. Onwards, into battle.
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Author's Comment:
Soooo... This has taken forever and I am terribly sorry for that. =( Between work and especially private life as of late, I had hardly any time left to write and then there was the big problem - I knew where I wanted to go, but I felt like the way I started it all just did not work. It was too fast and without transition and I have this whole scene in my head to which I want to get. So what you see here is some sort of transition - a bit of inner working, a bit of atmosphere (I hope) and some necessary set-ups for the following chapter to work.
Which is why the cranky old lady AND the cake have been transferred to the next chapter - which will be from Alistair's POV again.
I also know that I still need to go back and correct some mistakes that were pointed out to me - for which I am VERY VERY grateful, honestly. =) I just need to really sit down one evening and go over it all, so I have the updated and corrected version of all this online.
Lastly, I want to thank all of you who are still with this story - especially Eynla, who once again convinced me that this chapter is actually worth uploading, and also Pollyanna24, I can honestly say that your message was one of the big reasons to really sit down and go on and get over that writer's block! I also want to thank my awesome reviewers and those people that let me talk to them about this little story here - ErrantKnight, EkoCentric, lynn-writer, Graymalkyn, anesor, Marvey4, Melysande, alyssacousland, Hr'awkryn - and all of you who put this into their favourites and follow it.
The next chapter will hopefully be up within the month, as parts are already written. =) And corrected chapters should be uploaded throughout the weeks whenever I find time.
Also - something I wanted to show you all... there is a little commission of Aífe that the beyond-awesome artist Smilika on DA did for me, showing Aífe during the Battle of Denerim. If you want to check it out, just look it up on my profile, it is linked there. =)
Thanks to all of you!
P.S.: Sorry for any typos and mistakes in here, my native-speaker-beta is currently sick, so she could not look over this. As always, I'd be thankful to anybody who'd point them out to me so I can correct them!