Big thanks to BioWare for creating such awesome worlds & characters
A/N: Sorry for the super long delay. Hardly intentional, and I blame some of it on BioWare for making ME2 ;)
Mostly this chapter fought me tooth and nail. I was hoping to post 2 chapters at once to speed things up, but Chapter 19 is almost as stubborn as 18.
As always, comments/suggestions/criticisms are welcome.
"Three dots, give the man his money!" The men gathered around the fire shouted with enthusiasm as Alistair won another bet against Sivan. "Are ya goin' ta give 'im another chance ta – hey now! Wot's this?"
They were interrupted as Fifth burst into the group, tackling Alder to the ground, scattering the coins and game pieces into the dirt. Surprise turned to confusion as the firelight revealed blood on the dog's muzzle and chest. Alistair felt like he had been dropped into an icy river when he saw a bloody handprint smeared on the mabari's back.
Fifth had Alder pinned to the ground with two paws firmly planted on his chest; she kept barking loudly and hopping, each time she landed, he winced and groaned as he tried to push her off. "Alister, a little help, if you would?"
Alistair grabbed the mabari's collar, cursing as the spikes bit into his hands; it took his full strength to pull the dog back long enough for Alder to regain his feet. "Does she normally behave like this? Where's Tae?" The mage just shook his head as he dusted off his clothes, trying to catch his breath. Alistair grunted as she tried to lunge again, he was thankful she wasn't fully grown yet, "There's something tucked in the collar, see if you can grab it before she goes at you again."
"It's…a note." He wheezed and doubled over, one hand on his knee, the other hand holding the paper out to Alistair, "Here."
"You going to live? Fifth, stay down." He released the mabari, who began licking Alder's face, to scan the note, "Andraste's ass." He took a calming breath as he ran a hand over his face; all he wanted to do was to run into the darkness and find her. He realized the caravan's men had gathered around them, "Seems our lady has gone and bagged a bear, getting hurt in the process. Are any of you able to field dress a bear decently?"
Sivan nodded and gestured to one of his cousins, "Hyam and I have done deer and boar, but a bear can't be much different, eh?"
Alistair nodded, "Good enough, you both and another go gather whatever you need." He turned to his son, who seemed to have recovered, "You know any healing magics?"
"Anders made me learn the basics because of her. She has a habit of forgetting the pointy ends go in the other guy."
"I tried to teach her to use a shield. Obviously, it didn't take. Go get your stuff. That bag of poultices Merta gave me is in the back of the wagon."
Alder turned to go, and paused, "What about you?" He could see Alistair's hands repetitively balling into fists and relaxing.
Alistair set his jaw, frowning slightly, "I…She promised our services to guard the caravan. So I shall stay here." He gestured at the younger man, "Go. We don't know how bad she is."
"I'll bring her back, I promise."
It felt like an eternity since the four men had followed Fifth into the darkness; Alistair had stared after them, until the wisps' glow was no longer visible. He needed to find something to keep busy; turning, he found Meron patiently standing next to him, a mean looking club hanging from the merchant's belt.
"She'll be fine. She always is."
"Right. I know. I hope so, anyways."
"I didn't want to contradict you earlier, but you didn't need to stay. We're far enough from the main roads to not attract any attention. We're also close enough to the Peak, that the bandits know she'll punish anyone doing banditry and whatnot."
Alistair just looked at the man, through sheer force of will kept his hands and face still.
The caravan master continued, seemingly oblivious, "Anyways, I'm glad you stayed. I sent the rest to bed, since the rest of us will be dead on our feet tomorrow. Need an able-bodied man to help prepare." Meron held out a flask, "Brandy? From my personal collection."
The warden took a sip, letting it roll over his tongue; it was like the finest silk in liquid form. "Now that is a fine drink. What do you need me to do?" He passed back the flask.
Meron went over to each wagon and rummaged around in the boxes under the seats, pulling out large bundles of canvas and coils of rope. "Here. Refill us on water, get some boiling, and then find a place away from camp to hang the bear off the ground, large canvas and ropes to bundle it up. Use the smaller canvas by your fire to give us a clean place to put Cal." He nodded at the disturbed campsite, "Feel free to take some torches for more light. I'll get everyone packed up and tucked in so they won't be dead on their feet tomorrow and clear spots in my wagons for bear and her."
Meron moved about the camp like a small storm, herding his remaining men to their tents, cleaning up the spilled game pieces, clearing a space on one wagon to fit the injured warden if she couldn't walk. Alistair helped him in moving some of the larger cargo. Soon, too soon, all that was left was to wait. Meron disappeared to his own tent, with instructions to be woken if there was something he could help with.
The moon was climbing into the cold, cloudless sky. Alistair had pulled a blanket around his shoulders as he patrolled – paced - the length of the camp. He had paused to watch the sparks from the fire swirl and dance into nothingness, wishing he had a hobby like Alder's to keep his hands and mind occupied, debating about shaving off his beard just to do something, when he heard a dog barking in the distance. Looking towards the south he could see a glow slowly growing larger. He tossed the blanket aside and pushed through the brush towards them.
He first met Sivan and Hyam dragging the carcass of the bear behind them. They looked dirty and tired, but in good spirits. Fifth ran up, barked in greeting, and then raced back towards Alder with his precious cargo.
"Ah, Alistair. She's alive, they're right behind us. We'll be feasting on bear tomorrow night!"
Relieved, Alistair chuckled and gestured to the west, "We set up an area for you to hang the bear. I'll be right behind you."
"Don't worry about it; we've got this. See to the lady." Sivan nodded over his shoulder
"There's water warmed by your fire if you wanted to wash up before you go to sleep."
"You're a king among men, ser!" Hyam snorted loudly at his own joke. Sivan just rolled his eyes and leaned into the harness, giving Hyam no choice but to help or be dragged.
Alder and Gerick were close behind, following the path that the first pair broke through the brush. Alder wearily nodded at Alister as he pushed by; Calitae seemed barely conscious, her eyes were unfocused and beneath the blood and dirt, she was even more pale than usual.
Alder spoke over his shoulder, "Hold up, Gerick. Set her down." Fifth began to lick her mistress's cheek. "Alistair, you take my spot and Gerick go on ahead. Thank you." Gerick headed towards the soldier's side of the camp carrying the bundle of Calitae's weapons. Alder rubbed his arms as he moved to take the merchant's place. "She got mauled on her back and shoulder, plus the usual cuts and scrapes. She lost a lot of blood; I managed to stop the bleeding. Probably needs stitches."
Alistair brushed aside her hair to look at a long and shallow cut that ran from her temple to jaw, "She's burning up." He peeled back her collar to see how badly her shoulder was, but even in the wisp-light all he could see was a thick layer of congealing blood. He stood back up, moving to the front of the stretcher, "I can't tell how bad it is. Should we take her to Highever? They should have a full healer."
Alder just chuckled, lifting his end, "Not if you want to be alive when she recovers."
"What do you mean?"
Alder's amused voice floated forward, "I don't know the details, but the last time she went back she was fairly adamant that she would never return. She was quite angry; pretty sure I heard something about 'flaying the red-headed mule alive' and 'over her dead body'. Since then, if it was important, Warden-Commander Ventris would attend them."
Arriving in the camp, the pair of men shed their armor and gathered supplies. Kneeling to either side of her they found a pair of brown eyes watching them solemnly, squinting slightly against the pain.
"Tae! Maker's blessings, you're awake!" Alistair couldn't help himself, "What were you thinking? You said you would be careful!"
"A bear tried to eat me, I assure you it was quite unintentional." Her voice was low, as if she was trying to hold perfectly still but she still pinned him with a hard look, "Take me to Highever and you'll wish that Duncan never rescued me." She shifted her focus to Alder, "How bad am I really?" Alder went down the list of her injuries and she nodded slightly. "Bring my green and black pouches, the brown roll of tools, two mortars and pestle, drinkable water." She noticed Alistair's questioning expression as he started to wring out a cloth, dabbing at the mess of her shoulder. "You're going to have to clean the wounds, that's going to feel…unpleasant, plus we need to get my fever down."
He nodded, working in silence for a moment, "When you're better, I going to be very angry at you." She could hear the frustration in his voice. The water quickly turned pink as he rinsed out the cloth.
"I still have one good arm, I can take you." She started to giggle then winced.
He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips, "How did you let a bear catch you?"
She tilted her head in a shrug, "Maybe Sivan can tell you, it was a perfect shot; should have dropped much faster. Maybe I just got impatient, took a long time to line it up, my arms were killing me." Her eyes flicked around, landing on the bundle Gerick left by her tent, "My knife should be in there."
Alder came back then, his arms full of her requested items, "For what?" Kneeling on her other side, he began opening the pouches revealing bundles of roots, packets of powders and leaves, and an array of sharp looking tools, each with a different colored handle.
Her lower lip jutted out slightly into a pout, "To cut my leathers."
Alistair found her knife and alternated dabbing the blood and peeling away the shell of leather and cloth lining as he cut further down her arm, revealing a sleeve of dried blood from ear to finger tip. Calitae hissed through her teeth as her damaged skin was pulled at.
To keep her mind off his ministrations, she began directing Alder into mixing up two draughts, using the different tools and mortars to keep from cross-contamination; one a heavily diluted deathroot extract to dull the pain, and the other a mix of elfroot and fire crystal powder to counter the fever and help healing. Once she choked back both mixes, she quickly described the antidote of the deathroot extract, just in case she had guessed her dosage incorrectly.
As Calitae's eyelids fluttered close, Alder gave Alistair a flat look, "I know she's been dabbling with poisons longer than I've been alive, but doesn't it seem just a little wrong to be using poison for healing?"
Alistair wordlessly held out the knife, hilt-first, for his son to begin working on her other injuries.