My apologies to my regular readers for making an alteration in the order of the chapters; it seemed more suitable to describe Alistair's ordeal before Elissa's, despite the fact I posted the latter earlier. This is why you might have already read the next chapter.
I'd like to invite those who enjoy my story to leave a comment or a message; your support really feeds my enthusiasm to write and continue!
.9 Sickening revelations
Although Alistair never rode a span before, urgency thought him the better of it sooner than he expected. Compelling the horses to reach their limit he felt he was making a good effort at prolonging the distance between him and his pursuers, or at least maintain whatever lead Zevran had provided him.
After some time the horizon started to brighten in await of a new day. Still Alistair urged on in a seething gallop, strengthened by the image of Elissa's unconscious figure carved into his mind. He felt a sharp pang of guilt every time he realized she had been poisoned right under his eyes, but every sound, every turn in the road and every lone traveler he came across provided a wary distraction.
One thing he was certain of: He would get the task done as fast as the steeds permitted him. Yet it wasn't until the sun was setting again that he reached the forests his elven companion had described to him.
In the woods, the previous night in Val Royeaux seemed a distant memory.
Required to slow down while travelling the even forest path, Alistair finally felt his shoulders slump. He could sleep for a day, and a night too if he'd permit himself. When he felt his eyelids weigh down he forcefully shook his head and looked up at the single patch of sky visible through the foliage. The day was turning into night, accompanied by it's haunting shades of violet and blue. And the narrow path in front of him curved on and on, in front and a good distance behind him.
"Just a scratch, you said?"
Alistair heard the elf's stinging voice pierce his thoughts. Shamefully he reviewed the image of the cut across Elissa's revealed back, while her figure hung limply in his arms. His thoughts seemed real, like a vision; he fought the overwhelming disappointment and grief when he realized his grasp was empty but the reins in his hand.
He should have noticed. He should have known right away. 'Lady Cousland might have taken a sip of liquid courage'. Alistair silently cursed himself for being so unobservant. Wasn't he the one who always pressed she in particular had to be careful? Wasn't he the one who said she'd always be under his watchful eye?
Wallowing in guilt he was objected to the narrow path ahead, leading him and the carriage alike into the concealing darkness. He wasn't sure how he would be able to redeem himself. But it could only be his focus after he completed this task.
~.~.~.~
"Alistair, sit with me."
The elf's words had surprised him, but Alistair did not hesitate to slump down against the log at the spot Zevran had offered him. They had never talked much and despite their kinship in battle, their relationship seemed to be built on a mutual coolness.
Even now they lacked the ability to naturally start a conversation. They both stared at the campfire in the distance where their travelling companions sat, sharing that night's roast under lighthearted banter.
They had just retrieved the ashes of Andraste and they were a day's journey from Redcliffe: The prospect of healing the Arl and making the first ally on their quest of collecting the Warden armies had been a valid reason for joy. Elissa in particular seemed cheerful; her story came accompanied by animated gestures, and the pun proved amusing enough to even have Sten crack a grin.
Her genuine charm appealed to many, including himself, Alistair thought with an affectionate smile. And obviously, also to the elf sitting next to him. He followed his gaze and like he expected, his face showed a familiar infatuation. Just when Alistair opened his mouth, Zevran spoke.
"It has come to my attention that your fondness for your fellow Grey Warden goes beyond camaraderie, Alistair."
The latter was surprised by the elf's direct approach, and answered defensively.
"Why would you say that?"
"Ah Alistair, I have an eye for these things. Not only has she been fingering that rose of yours when she thinks nobody is watching, but I have also seen you exchange, pleasantries, recently."
Alistair blushed. He had noticed how tenderly she carried his gift in her pack, but he didn't know she cherished it as much as Zevran had just described. Also, he realized the elf was aiming at the kiss they exchanged not long ago. He would have hoped nobody would have seen them, but now he found out his rival has he could not help but escape a wicked grin. He knew better than to compose himself before he spoke.
"Your point?"
"Don't get me wrong, Ser templar," The assassin spoke apologetically, "I only wonder whether your mutual interest is based on passion, or surely on something more."
Alistair remained silent for a moment, surprised by the genuine modesty in his words. The sharp edges of Zevran's earlier comments had turned blunt, and even his face looked expecting, if not slightly self-conscious. He hesitated before he decided to speak. The truth.
"I have come to care for her, a great deal." He spoke slowly. "She isn't only my fellow Warden, but also… My friend. My dear friend."
He looked down for a second, and Zevran looked away in response. Alistair did feel that he had to finish speaking his mind, now he had the chance.
"I have never felt like this before, but I feel, I love her."
Another silence occurred, this time pressing and uncomfortable. Leliana's giggling in the distance only made Alistair feel more aware of their own lack of words.
"Then I know enough," Zevran eventually spoke.
Alistair blinked in surprise, clearly expecting a different reply. "You do?"
"I do, dear templar. Clearly something has grown between you two and it would be wrong, if not unfriendly of me to try to convince her otherwise."
Alistair couldn't help but laugh, both out of relief and amusement. "Those are noble words, for an assassin. Remember that as my fellow Grey Warden, she will be under my watchful eye all the time."
Zevran nodded. "Then as long as she remains under your watchful eye, I will find the courtesy to hold my word."
Alistair sat up as if been shocked.
Zevran's words chimed through his mind, but to his surprise there were more pressing matters to attend to; why did it not seem evening but dawn, and why did he stop?
He leaped off the carriage and found himself near the edge of a creek. The horses looked up at him before they continued their lazy grazing. It seemed he had fallen asleep, and the span had found it's own way to what they deemed a suitable place to rest.
Alistair quickly started to untie the bridles from the coach. How could he have ever been stupid enough to fall asleep, at the reins! By the Maker, there couldn't have been a less suitable time to lose his focus, especially with pursuers on his tail!
The Crows. Alistair immediately dropped the knot he was undoing and carefully looked around him. In the scarce morning light, all looked still. There was no sound, no movement. He was alone.
And he was alive, despite the distance that would have been bridged during his unforeseen sleep.
Muttering curses under his breath, Alistair yanked at the ropes holding the span together. He was a fool, a dumbfound, naïve, blundering fool.
He wasn't being chased; Zevran had just looked for an excuse to get rid of him, and he succeeded. Surely he didn't intend for Elissa to get hurt, but sending Alistair off on a prolonged escape route seemed all but convenient in the progressing morning light, more than a day's travel from where he had hauled up with the woman he loved. They both, loved.
Yelling a single loud profanity, Alistair succeeded at untying the span. Afterwards he took one horse by the bridle and climbed a second. The other two he left where they were, to return to their masters or stay in the forest until their end, for all he cared. Two horses would be sufficient, after he fully grasped the elf's devious plans.
"Remember that as my fellow Grey Warden, she will be under my watchful eye all the time."
"Then as long as she remains under your watchful eye, I will find the courtesy to hold my word."
Alistair profusely kicked his steed in the flanks, making an abrupt end to their mutual time of what he deemed underserved rest.
Zevran would pay for his treachery.