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Two hours later, dark had fully fallen as Calitae and Alistair slipped out the western gate. She had taken the time to alter some more clothing for him, so while he wasn't in the finery of a noble, he was comfortable in a loose fitting shirt and suede pants.
Her outfit was completed with flowing, wide-legged pants tucked into soft ankle boots. A wide gold-colored sash was wrapped around her entire midsection, and two thick leather cuffs adorned her wrists. Alistair told her she looked like a Rivani pirate, but secretly thought she looked like a dangerous forest cat with her ears and braid. She merely pointed out that it let her remain armed, even while relaxing; her sash alone held six blades in its folds.
"You know, if you told me that the person who could carve like that could also fight like that, I probably wouldn't believe you." After Merta's ministrations, Alistair was now nursing only a bruised ego, proud father or not.
Accompanied by the soft jingling from her braid, she led him down the path slowly to give their eyes time to adjust as they moved away from the torchlight on the wall, "He learned the dual wielding from watching me as a boy, and then he developed the talent, it seemed natural that he would take to the ways of an arcane warrior. The First Enchanter wasn't too pleased when he realized what I was trying to show Alder, but once I gave him the notes we found, he was able to help Alder a lot. More than a few arguments were had when we tried to figure out a shorter staff for him."
"He's an impressive young man. You should be proud." He smiled to himself as he watched her absentmindedly picking seed pods and leaves from the bushes and grasses they walked by, tucking them into a pouch. It was a habit she had picked up during their former travels, she was always stockpiling potentially useful ingredients.
"I am, very. And really so should you. He has such potential; it is hard hearing him talk about wanting to be a Grey Warden. I just can't bear the thought him not succeeding through the Joining." She grimaced and shook her head, "He'll probably be even more determined after meeting you. I just keep trying to encourage him to go out into the world first, maybe start a family. Then if it's something he still wants, perhaps join. But ultimately, he is as stubborn as both of us put together."
They both laughed and continued in silence other than the rustling of the grasses and the delicate tinkling of bells she had attached to her braid in anticipation for tonight's dancing. Up ahead, Alistair could see a strange orange glow behind some trees. "Is someone's hut burning down?"
"No, that would be why we're out in the middle of nowhere. Welcome to Theirin's Stand."
"Theirin? Why haven't I heard of this before?"
"You're a king, people have a tendency to name things after kings. That and I refused to let them name it after me." She waved at a Warden standing on a rock next to the path, keeping watch.
"Why 'The Stand'?"
She gave him a sideways glance, "Couldn't exactly call it 'Alistair's Circle of Old Rocks and Trees In the Middle of Nowhere'."
He laughed, then paused when she stayed serious, "You're joking, right? It has nothing whatsoever to do with, I don't know, the last battle in Denerim versus the Archdemon, or anything like that?" He sounded hopeful.
"I bet you like those exaggerating songs the minstrels sing about you, too."
"You are so very mean."
She finally laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder, "You're the one who told me the Grey Wardens should remember to laugh. So this is what we do, every fortnight or so, although I think they try to have at least one before I disappear. Any warden that's at the Keep is here – and we bend the rules for the few wives so there are some women around."
They stepped through an archway and instantly broke into sweat from the heat. The Stand appeared to be an old ring of stones amidst a solitary thicket. Someone had cleared the center and built a towering bonfire. Around the edge of the clearing were smaller rocks and benches. A makeshift table with a giant keg and crude mugs was to one side. All around were the Wardens from the evening meal, and sure enough, a few women had arrived as well. Greetings were called out as the pair stepped into the firelight; Alistair found a mug thrust into his hands as Gyfford dragged him off to a group of recruits.
Calitae leapt onto a rock and called out, "Now I'm sure this is supposed to be a party, where is the music?" She pulled out a small box from another pouch, inside the wooden flute. Someone else produced a lute and another sat by her feet with some drums. In no time there was music and soon people were dancing.
It wasn't a large group, Wardens drifting in and out as they were needed elsewhere. The ale flowed and the women all danced with anyone who asked. The musicians were replaced by others, taking turns for drinks and dances. If not playing the flute, Calitae was dancing right along with the men, she never paused once; Alistair was amazed at her energy and could hardly say no when one of the women dragged him to his feet. The men sitting around the fire would clap and sing the bawdy tunes normally saved for taverns and not-so-polite company.
More than once Calitae caught Alistair watching her, not looking away when their eyes met over the flames. She even let him take her for a turn around the fire when one of the latecomers produced a fiddle, their hands lingering with each touch.
All too soon it was over, Osred showing up for the last few songs before shooing everyone to bed. The commander had an uncanny knack for knowing exactly when the festivities were almost too far gone. The bonfire was a heap of glowing coals as those more sober of the group helped carry back the keg and furniture. Several had already passed out around the fire pit.
Calitae found Alistair talking to a Warden and his wife; she was pleasantly surprised that he was able to stand unassisted. He gave her a big smile, throwing an arm around her shoulders, "There you are! Tonight was...marveloush! You are marveloush!" Mostly unassisted; she staggered under the weight, not completely sober herself.
"Yes, so I've been told." Chuckling, she nodded to the couple, "Pleasure to see you again, Ansi, thank you for coming. Good night, warden." She steered Alistair towards the archway, "Let's get you to bed, ser." With the alcohol consumed, the path back was more challenging that the trip out, but squires were often sent to keep it clear of obstacles and safe. The crisp autumn air away from the fire helped both of them clear their heads.
They walked slowly together, shoulders brushing. Alistair spoke deliberately, "I don't often let myself drink that much, even when I'm down in the taverns. When I drink far too much, I get somewhat maudlin, so even when I was relaxing I'd have to remember not to embarrass the throne or Eona."
"To them, you are still king and married." She waved vaguely at the fortress looming out of the darkness.
"Yes, but more importantly, I was a Warden tonight. Thank you for this. I had forgotten what it was like."
"Life before the Blight and being king was a very long time ago, it's the least I can do for you. Now, lots of stairs, no falling on me." Soon enough she had Alistair sprawled across her bed, asleep before she got his boots off.