.12 Revelations
Neither of them had noticed how the door had opened. In the post stood Alistair, his hands clenched to fists at his sides as he assessed the words he had just overheard, the situation he had just overseen. Torn between anger and worry he looked at Zevran, and eventually back at Elissa.
His rained down physique made him stand out as an intruder, although Elissa had rarely been happier to see him. Nonetheless her relief was overshadowed by an intense worry for the measures he would take after observing the situation so silently.
Fighting back his rage Alistair kneeled down next to her and touched her cheek with quivering fingers before he spoke.
"Did he hurt you?"
His voice was shaky, whether it was only due to suppressed anger Elissa couldn't say.
She slightly shook her head while she continued the struggle to catch her breath, and wished she could manage to put a hold to the tears streaking down her face. Unpleasant though the situation might be, both her lover and her friend would benefit more from her usual sensible attitude than they were from her current frail disposition.
Until she managed to pull herself together, the silence was pressing. Alistair repeatedly stroked her hair, shushing her when he met her gaze, yet his eyes remained unfocussed and confounded. Eventually he was the one to break the tension.
"Don't you have anything to say?"
Elissa was already trying to speak, trying to explain, before she realized his words weren't directed at her.
"Nothing that you could not guess yourself, ser Templar."
Zevran's tone was abhorrent, dispatched as he seemed to gather his belongings. Elissa noticed that the shirt he had carefully mended earlier still lay next to her bedroll, before he snatched it up and pulled it over his head.
"Your lips on the love of my life left little to the imagination, nor did her pushing you away!"
He stood up and stared at the elf in fury, his body trembling under the effort to keep himself together. Unwilling for the situation to get out of hand, Elissa tried to keep him to a halt. His calf easily slipped through her numb fingers as he approached Zevran until they were near nose to nose.
The latter acted unimpressed, but Elissa noticed the familiar reserved look in his eyes, even as he cockily stretched his neck to escape Alistair's eyes without giving ground.
"And I see she even had to fend your sorry arse off with her nails, what kind of a man are you!"
Alistair harshly wiped his hand across the elf's cheek, leaving a crimson streak across his jaw. He seemed determined to build up his rage, willing for the situation to escalate. It looked as if Zevran wouldn't provide him such chance, until he sneeringly replied:
"The man that would be laying with your woman if only you would have taken a little longer."
That was all it took for Alistair to land his balled fist on the elf's already bleeding cheek. Amazingly enough he staggered under the cracking blow but managed to stay up, although he heavily relied on a nearby beam to do so. When he didn't seem to prepare to start a counter attack, Alistair yelled furiously:
"There weren't any pursuers, it was a trick! You tricked me!"
To Elissa's surprise Zevran's blank look turned bewildered, an emotion that soon changed into agitation.
"You say there were not? That is impossible."
He dropped his pack and cautiously peeked through one of the larger cracks of the wooden walls, ignoring Alistair's aggravated look. When he eventually pulled Zevran's shoulder to demand rectification he did not meet his eyes, but immediately drew his weapons from the pack at his feet.
Instinctively Alistair reached for his own belt, only to find it empty. They had travelled light and his only weapon got lost during their escape from Val Royaux. When the elf handed him his own longsword he took it from him in surprise, but wielded it with fiery determination. Zevran ignored him without effort.
"You thought none of the Crows would pick up the chase after murdering their master?"
Alistair seemed unwilling to listen, and did not lower his weapon. His face did show an unmistakable wondering, as did Elissa's before she made another attempt to get up on her feet.
"Did I not warn you in advance the contract might be lost, but that those left of the leader's confidants might seek revenge for undermining their reign? A matter that should not be considered lightly?"
Alistair looked at the sword in his hand, contemplating whether to settle the discussion there and then or to take the elf's daunting words into account. Against Elissa's expectations, he slowly followed Zevran's sharp gaze.
Was it true then?
Their eyes rested at the entry of the shack. Unfortunately, the brief wait they underwent didn't go in vain.
Unceremoniously the door flew open, revealing nothing but the rain stricken forest around them. Yet from unsettlingly close range sounded a calm voice in a familiar accent.
"Zevran, old friend. Despite chasing your own agenda, I hear you have not forgotten our ways just yet."