Follows on from "Exhaustion".
Staring
Alistair
The sky is still a dark blue when he wakes; he rubs a frown off his forehead, and, when he takes his hands away, ends up looking in surprise at the face of his fellow Warden.
Last night comes back to him.
"Oh yes, sleep outside in the huge, scary forest all alone. Such a good idea, with the bears, and the werewolves, and the... you aren't even listening to me, are you?"
She had obviously dropped off, couldn't hear him, but he continued to ramble, being... well, him. He looked wistfully to his tent, but just couldn't bring himself to leave her vulnerable here. He took one last look at her, curled up in the grass, and then sighed, lying down next to her. At least he was faster with a sword, if anything went wrong.
He should really be getting up, but he finds himself staring at her as he lies there, tracing over her face with his eyes: pale, clear skin, occasionally fluttering eyelashes as she dreams, narrow nose, down to light pink lips.
Even in sleep, a small, wry smile plays on her face. Must be dreaming of something good, then. His smile matches her own - good dreams are too rare for a Warden; all his brothers treasured them, and he wishes he knew what it was, what has made her so happy. There's a lock of fair hair caught in her lashes, across her nose, and he suddenly fights the urge to brush it out of her eyes...
... Then sits up quickly, exhaling in a desperate breath and struggling not to let his face colour. She's asleep, for Maker's sake, and he's probably intruding horribly into her personal space, and what has got into him lately? He's acting like... like... Well, he's acting stupidly. He stands as quietly as possible so as not to wake her, then stamps off to get his sword, knowing the grass will cover the noise - he's already delayed his exercises for far too long, and meditation will sort this out. Yes. Meditation. Meditation is good.
He hears rustling behind him a few minutes later, and opens an eye to see her yawning and trying to stretch the cramps from sleeping on the ground out of her shoulders. The call surprises him. "Breakfast?"
He gives up on meditation and nods, walking over to where she's re-lighting the campfire... with magic. She sees him looking, and the hint of a smirk appears on her face. She moves her fingers, wiggling them instead of pointing them straight at the campfire, and flames come from them, making patterns in the air. He tries not to make it too obvious that he's open-mouthed, but he can't help the twinge of regret inside him - the Chantry wanted him to help stop things like this? She lets a last spiral of flame sit above the wood, then moves her hand back, the flames falling to the ground and lighting the campfire.
"Show-off," he mutters, but he's grinning.
She shrugs. "Sorry. Just thought I might as well give you a show." She looks worried. "Actually, fire isn't exactly my strong point..."
He raises an eyebrow. After that?
"Primal is my weakest. I was always slightly better with creation. It was probably only because I was taught well in that school of magic, though."
He frowns, thinking back to Chantry training. "Primal... is the elements, right?" She nods. "Well, you are a pretty good healer, so I guess creation..." He stops at her smile, feeling slightly stupid. "What?"
"You would have made a truly awful templar," she says, beginning to roast the remains of last night's rabbit.
"Thank you. You are so very kind." A pause. "Why?"
"You're intelligent, you can smite, but you like magic far too much," she explains, looking up, the smile still there.
Something in him warms at her words. She thinks he isn't stupid? Wow. That's... new.
The question catches him unawares a few minutes later when she asks. "Sleep well?"
He remembers how he woke up and prays he isn't blushing, unable to look her in the eye. "Well, there were the terrible nightmares, the animal noises, your snoring..." She makes a vague "hmph". "... But yes. I did."