.8 The dividing of tasks
As soon as the carriage was set in motion Alistair practically toppled over. The narrow bench was mostly occupied by Elissa's limp body, dangerously shaking under the rattling of the wooden cartwheels. Without hesitation he heaved her into his lap and supported her head against his shoulder, fervently wiping the now moist waves of hair from her forehead.
"Elissa, it's time to wake up," He whispered to her. When she ceased to respond he stroked her forehead more rigorously, repeating the exact words he had spoken to her that same morning.
"It's time to wake up love,"
Elissa stirred under the feather duvet, only showing her stretched hands slipping across the mattress in a catlike stretching session. Alistair could not help but throw the covers off the bed, revealing the young woman in her bare glory.
Her tousled hair stood in all directions, like a golden halo in the sunlight protruding the sheer curtains in their room in the outskirts of Val Royeaux. A little sunshine had done her well, blushing her skin like an apricot and bringing out the few freckles she sported around her nose which she absolutely hated, but he absolutely adored.
It took her mere seconds to crawl into his grasp, covering him in little kisses and making little pecking sounds.
"I could get used to this, you know."
He noticed that his voice sound low and husky, but pleasant and relaxed. He could get used to that, too.
"Waking up next to me or waking up in Orlesian luxury?" Elissa purred while tenderly caressing the silky sheets. She had never complained about the lack of splendor during their travels, despite what she had been used to before she was forced to leave her elderly home. Now she was simple reveling in it, and it amused him to no end.
"I would never take waking up next to the woman I love for granted."
"I think no one would ever will," Zevran's voice sounded from the double doors towards the balcony. Although they had vouched for separate rooms despite how they were used travelling together and thus sleeping in close vicinity of one another, the elven rogue had found a way to avoid using the hallway and their locked door.
The assassin could not pick a lock if his life depended on it, but trust him to find another mischievous way to disturb their privacy.
Alistair's bitterness was hardly contained, and to his disappointment Elissa seemed happily surprised to find the intruder in their room. While Alistair quickly covered them under a sheet she clapped excitedly.
"Are you going to do my hair now? It has sure been a while!"
"I will not claim to possess the nimble fingers of a barber, but I have picked up a thing or two redoing a woman's hair when physical labor unintentionally caused it to mess up, so to speak."
He then unceremoniously emptied a pouch of jewelry on the dressoir, which included several combs and hairpins. He pulled up the stool from the vanity and patted it invitingly with his hand.
Elissa got up, wrapping the single sheet closely around her before she sat down. Alistair hardly mustered a smile before he reached for his pants, scattered across the floor from their nightly arrival.
Then he stood up and walked up to his companions, chattering away like they were at a tea party, not in the prospect of events to come. He absentmindedly pulled the sheet wrapped around Elissa a little higher before he spoke.
"Are you sure this is a good plan?"
Elissa seemed surprised by the sincerity in his voice, but Zevran replied in his usual unconcerned tone. "It is the best opportunity we will get. Also, Elissa will be fine, as usual. The master of the Crows might be the head of a formidable order, but he is no arch demon."
She smiled upon his sign of confidence, but Alistair noticed at least she was also captivated by a healthy dose of nerves.
"I will trust you. For now."
Upon Alistair's words she stood up and pressed herself close to his chest, sighing excitedly.
Less than a day later, her face was covered in a sickly green glow and her breathing had turned shallow. Alistair started to undo the lace in the front of her bodice, desperately trying to make her more comfortable. All the while Elissa's head hauntingly lolled to the side while Alistair did the best to support it and be of any other assistance in the matter.
"How can she be poisoned!" He yelled in sheer anger, forcefully yanking the lace that was by now caked in blood.
"Smell her breath," The elf called decidedly from the rider's seat, just before he forced the horses to make a sharp turn to the left.
Alistair cautiously leaned over Elissa's face, parting her lips with his thumb. Her breath smelled sweet, unaffected by anything he deemed poisonous. The familiarity of her scent caused him a sharp pang of guilt.
He should have known this would all end badly.
"What am I looking for?" He cried out in desperation, kicking the wooden paneling of the carriage in vigor to demand an answer from the elf at the reins.
The door swung open, and without comment Zevran pulled her out of the carriage into his arms. They had stopped, and this unexpected outcome made Alistair's head spin for a moment.
The elf again turned her face from side to side, eventually pulling her chin down to taste her breath. He then decidedly pushed the woman back into Alistair's arms and grabbed his dagger to cut the strings of her bodice.
Alistair felt compelled to object when the rogue started to cut away her garments, but Zevran's unusually urgent conduct silenced any reluctance that arose. Eventually she was left in a peach colored underdress when the elf roughly turned her back towards him. His face relaxed then, but his eyes did not lose it's severity.
"Just a scratch, you said?"
He closely studied Elissa's back while Alistair maneuvered her in a way he could see what the elf was talking about.
"Well it is just a scratch, right? By the Maker, I expected you to find something much worse."
"You fool!" Zevran called out heatedly while he hoisted her up and walked her down a narrow trail the templar had not noticed before. He followed them closely, determined not to let her out of his sight. Realizing that this seemingly harmless cut was the cause of Elissa's condition he decided to ask no further but start the counter attack.
"Fool? Me! Weren't you the one sending her off into your master's lair unaccompanied, bringing her in harm's way in the first place?"
To Alistair's surprise the elf managed to carry the woman in his arms at a breakneck speed, and still managed to throw him a malevolent glance.
"Weren't you the one asking for a solution to your problems? To rely on my knowledge as an Antivan Crow? Well this is what I knew and it near well worked out for your benefit, if you would have kept a closer eye on her!"
"A closer eye? Do you have any idea what it caused me to let her go in by herself? And that scar faced elf panting down her neck half the time, it took me everything not to…"
Alistair spat out the bile that collected in his mouth before he indignantly turned Zevran around in his footsteps, determined to smack him in the face and take over to carry the woman he loved, in no particular order. Yet when he met his glance the malice was overshadowed by intense worry.
"Take the carriage. Follow the Imperial road north and go west at the fork; make haste and don't stop for the night; I can guarantee you will be followed. Lose the coach in the woods, take three of the horses and return by travelling through Val Foret."
"Why can't you…"
"Because circumstances are different now!" Zevran hissed. He turned around and kicked open the door of a wooden shack Alistair did not even remember reaching. A musty smell wafted into his face while the elf carried the still unconscious Elissa in and gently slipped her to the ground.
When he made sure she would be comfortable, he stood up and pushed Alistair in front of him, back across the trail. After one last heartbreaking look at the wounded woman he allowed the elf to guide him back to the road, where the carriage and the damping horses were waiting for their new mender. Zevran jumped into the coach and retrieved what Alistair recognized as his pack from under the bench, slinging it over his shoulder before he spoke.
"Follow the…"
"Imperial road north, west at the fork, lose carriage. Travel back through Val Forray."
"Foret. The 't' is silent but that is what will be written on the road markers." Zevran spoke at an annoyed tone. "Remember this spot, I will be too occupied healing your fellow Warden to come and look for you if you get lost."
Alistair nodded as the knowledge that he had to let Elissa out of his sight again sank in. Suddenly his legs felt heavy, like they too objected at the prospect of riding off while his wounded partner stayed behind.
He turned to the elf before he climbed the carriage. "I… Take care of her. I will atone for my mistakes, anything, if only it will make her better."
Zevran jerked his chin towards the road, urging him to make haste in aggravation. Yet when he handed him the reigns Alistair could hear a soft murmur escape his lips.
"We will decide who of us has to atone when you return."