A/N: As always, I apologize for the lateness of the chapter. I actually got most of it done during the week, but couldn't find time until today to put the finishing touches on it. December is turning out to be as ridiculously busy as I thought it would be :(. Keep in mind even if I don't quite keep the bi-weekly schedule, I have not stopped working on this story, and will get a new chapter to you sooner or later!
Anyway, as you can tell from the title of this chapter, it is pretty much all about Ayla/Alistair moments and fluff. Almost nothing related directly to DA plot happens in this one. It is a split POV chapter as well. Hope you enjoy!
Thanks to all those who have read, favorited and followed, as always!
Special thanks go to PheonixTears589, Cheecho, and Akimis for their reviews and putting me over the 30 mark! :) Please R and R, everyone, it really helps to keep me going!
Disclaimer: Don't own DA plot or characters, do own most of this chapter otherwise!
Chapter 21: Feelings
Alistair had taken first watch after they'd left the ruins; they'd stopped just outside the entrance and decided to make camp there, as it was already dark and they were all exhausted. Additionally, the ruins and the surrounding hills provided decent shelter, and most threats should only be able to come at them from one direction. They'd eaten quickly, and he'd offered to keep watch while the others slept, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep until Ayla woke up, and possibly not even then.
She had still not regained consciousness by the time Aedan came to relieve him from watch; Alistair had checked briefly on her several times during his watch to no avail. It had been difficult to keep himself focused, but he'd managed to keep from staying with her the entire time. Now that his watch was done, he intended to stay with her until he saw her open her eyes again.
Aedan clapped him on the shoulder as he came to take over for him at the edge of the campsite. "You should try to get some sleep, Alistair. You look exhausted."
He shook his head. "I don't think I can right now. I'll just stay with her until she wakes up." His eyes fell on the hole in Aedan's armor. The wound was closed now, but he could not help the wave of guilt that fell over him every time he saw it. "I'm sorry about that," he nodded to the wound. "You wouldn't have gotten hurt if it hadn't been for me."
Aedan shook his head dismissively. "Don't worry about it. It was a momentary lapse; it could have happened to anyone. What's important is that you still came to help me, though I know you would have much rather gone to her. I don't know that I would have managed to do so well in your place." His eyes went to where Morrigan was sleeping, curled up in her blanket, as far away from Zevran as she could get in the small area.
Alistair followed his gaze and regarded Aedan thoughtfully. "About that, just how serious are you about Morrigan?"
Aedan turned back to him, staring at him with an unreadable look on his face. "As serious as you are about Ayla."
Alistair took a step back, shocked. "What?! Are you serious? But I'm – I love Ayla," he blurted. His jaw dropped when Aedan merely nodded in response. "But – Aedan – you can't possibly - she's a Witch of the Wilds!"
Aedan sighed, scanning the area around them before turning his attention back to Alistair. "I know you two hate each other. But even you must realize that she's not as heartless as she pretends to be. She's not just a Witch of the Wilds. I certainly didn't plan or expect this – but there's nothing I can or would do about it now. You of all people should know that."
Alistair stared at Aedan, trying to wrap his mind around what he'd just said. He had, in fact, noticed that the witch was not as uncaring as she seemed, particularly when it came to Aedan and also Ayla, oddly enough. She appeared to be surprisingly protective of the two of them, as much as she might pretend otherwise. And he owed her a debt he could never repay now that she had saved Ayla; he didn't doubt that Ayla would never have made it without Morrigan's magic and ability with potions. None of that really served to make him like her any more, since she seemed to be so determined to hate him, but he saw Aedan's point. "Oh, very well, perhaps she's not as much of a bitch as she seems to be. I still doubt we'll get along any time soon. But if that's truly the way you feel about her – I won't say anything against it. Have you told her how you feel?"
Aedan snorted, keeping his voice low as he replied, "Are you insane? She thinks love is a weakness; if I told her, I'd never get near her again. No, I'll keep that to myself for now, and just let her think I'm only interested in bedding her. Maybe she'll come around eventually." He shook his head. "We chose a difficult pair of women, Alistair."
"Yes, I suppose we did," Alistair said softly, looking over at Ayla's still form. "I'm not sure if I should tell her how I feel or not. I have no idea how she feels about me, other than – well, you know." He blushed furiously as Aedan grinned. "But just when I think I might be getting her to care for me, she'll get angry with me for no reason. Then she'll let me hold her until she falls asleep. I don't get her at all."
"Angry with you?" Aedan blinked, looking confused, until his face suddenly cleared. "Oh, are you talking about with the werewolves, when we first entered the forest?"
"Yes!" Alistair exclaimed, frustrated at the memory. "She was so angry with me and I have no idea why!"
Aedan laughed, shaking his head. "You really don't know why? It's because she was worried about you. She and Morrigan are just alike that way; Morrigan yelled at me for being a fool after I was caught by that tree. They were both worried and afraid and they didn't like it, so they took it out on us, since it was technically our fault."
"She was worried about me?" Alistair repeated, warmed at the thought. "Are you sure about that?"
Aedan nodded. "Absolutely. I think she cares about you more than she's willing to admit, or maybe more than she wants to. I think you just need to give her some time."
"So, do you think I should tell her how I feel, or wait until she's willing to admit how she feels?" Alistair asked curiously. Aedan had been right about everything so far; surely if he thought Ayla cared about him, he must be right, but he didn't want to scare her away.
"I'm not sure," Aedan answered slowly. "I don't think her feelings about love are the same as Morrigan's, but I don't know if she'd be ready to accept it, either. You'll have to decide on that yourself."
"Great," Alistair muttered. "Just what I'm not good at."
"I wouldn't worry about it too much. Just do it when it feels right to you," Aedan replied. "If you're not going to go sleep, at least go sit with her and let me take watch, will you?"
Alistair nodded. "All right." He turned and headed over to where Ayla was laying, sitting down next to her. She was, unfortunately, still unconscious, but her breathing was steady, and he hoped she would wake up soon. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop worrying about her until she did.
He spent the next little while alternating between looking back and forth between her and where Aedan was keeping watch, continually patrolling the area between their campsite and the only way out to the rest of the forest. He didn't know how long it had been when he looked down at Ayla and realized her eyelids were fluttering and she was stirring, her head moving back and forth.
He reached out and took her hand in his. He'd taken his gauntlets off, so he was able to feel the warmth and smoothness of her skin in his own hand. He watched with baited breath now; after another moment, her eyes opened, looking dazed and unfocused. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life as that of her eyes opening, he decided. He had known that she was alive, but he realized now as relief flooded him that a part of him had been afraid she would never open her eyes again. She blinked a few times, until her eyes suddenly focused on him, and she smiled.
"Alistair? What happened?" She winced a little as she got into a full sitting position.
Without thinking, he pulled her abruptly into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her. He was so desperate just to feel her there again, to feel the warmth and peace it brought him to have her there. "Ouch!" she protested, pushing lightly against him. "Not so tight!"
"Maker, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, releasing her immediately, though he supported her with an arm around her shoulders still. He couldn't believe he'd already forgotten just how she'd been hurt and had done more damage to her.
"It's all right," she reassured him. "It's just that your armor is never comfortable at the best of times, and, well, I'm feeling a little bruised. What happened? Are you all right?" She looked at him expectantly.
"Am I all right?" he repeated incredulously, torn between exasperation and the giddy feeling that wanted to overtake him at the thought that she was worried for him. "You should be worried about yourself!"
"Well, I know how I am," she pointed out. "Which is alive, if a little hurt. But I don't know how you are."
He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm fine. I was just worried about you. You got caught by one of those walking trees Zathrian brought to life, like Aedan did before, and it almost . . ." His voice cracked as he found he couldn't quite finish the sentence.
"Killed me?" She finished softly, and he nodded mutely, remembering anew the terror and grief he'd felt in that moment. "I remember now. It squeezed me, and I couldn't get loose. I must have blacked out, I suppose."
"I – I'm so sorry, Ayla," he whispered, feeling shame wash over him. "I saw it happen, but I was too far away – I couldn't get to you in time. Morrigan and Zevran saved you, and I – I didn't go to you right away. I helped Aedan finish off Zathrian instead." He hung his head, unable to meet her eyes.
"Hey." Ayla reached for him, lifting up his chin so he had no choice but to look in her in the eye. "Don't apologize, Alistair. You did the right thing. No matter what happens in a battle, you should never stop fighting until the enemy before you is down. I learned that the hard way; I went to my brother once when he fell, and nearly got myself killed in the process. The only reason I'm still alive is because my father was there at the time, and he saved both our lives – and scolded me at length afterward. You did exactly what you should have – exactly what I would have wanted you to do. So don't you dare feel bad over it, you understand?"
She looked so sincere – and even slightly fierce as she stared him down – that he couldn't help but nod, incredibly relieved that she thought he'd done the right thing. "I – I've never been so terrified in my entire life as when I heard you scream," he confessed, not knowing if he should be telling her this yet, but unable to stop himself. "I . . . thought you were . . . I thought I'd never see you again."
She let go of his chin, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them. Now she was the one who couldn't quite seem to look him in the eye. "I'm all right, Alistair. I'm still here. I'm . . . sorry that I worried you." Her voice was so quiet at the end, he barely caught what she was saying.
"Don't worry about it," he told her, surprised that he hadn't yet scared her off. "As long as you're fine, that's all that matters. How do you feel?"
She looked back up at him, smiling wryly. "A bit like I fell off a cliff – as in, bruised all over – but other than that, I feel pretty good. Morrigan did a good job." She tilted her head, studying him. "Did you kill Zathrian?"
"No," he replied, his hand tightening on hers. "I wanted to, but Aedan wouldn't let me. And he was right; we needed him to break the curse, which he did. He ended up dying when he broke the curse, and the Lady of the Forest is gone too, but all the werewolves are back to normal now. Once we get back to the camp, I'm sure all the elves will be fine as well."
"He actually agreed to break the curse?" A dazzling smile broke across her face, and he felt his heart skip a beat in response. "I'm so glad; I really hoped we'd be able to convince him. I didn't want them to have to stay like that."
"Well, they're all okay now," he assured her. "They were grateful to us – and to you – for wanting to help them. I . . . should let you get some sleep now," he finished reluctantly. The last thing he wanted was to leave her, but – "You need to get your strength back."
He'd started to let go of her hands as he began to get up, but she tightened her grip on them and pulled him back down. "Wait, why don't you . . . stay with me?"
"What?" he asked, not sure that he'd heard her correctly.
Her cheeks turned slightly pink as she repeated, "Stay with me. I . . . it was nice when you held me the other night . . . and when we slept in your tent the time before that. Didn't you think so? I mean, if you don't want to, of course you don't have to . . ."
"Ayla, of course I want to." In fact, his heart was doing a little dance inside him that she'd even asked. He knew he'd sleep infinitely better if she was in his arms. "But are you sure? You're all bruised, and like you said, my armor isn't all that comfortable for you." He didn't want to take his armor off to sleep, not while they were still in the forest. It was too dangerous.
Her cheeks were turning a brighter pink by the second as she said, "I'm sure. As long as you don't hold me quite so tightly, it'll be fine."
He grinned. "Okay, it's settled. I'll just go get my blanket and be right back."
She nodded, letting go of his hands as he got to his feet, and went to where he'd left his pack and blanket earlier. He grabbed the blanket and hurried back to her side, spreading it over himself as he lay on his back next to her. He drew her close to him carefully with one arm around her waist, and she curled on her side next to him, laying one arm across his chest and covering herself with her blanket as well. He kept his arm secured gently around her waist, loving the feel of her there; as always, it just felt so right.
"How's that?" he asked her quietly. "Not too tight?"
"No," she shook her head as she snuggled a little closer. "It . . . feels just right."
"I'm so glad you're all right." He brushed some of her hair away from her face with his other hand, gently tucking it behind her ear. "I don't know what I would've done if you . . ."
"Shh." She laid her finger over his lips, halting his flow of words as he could suddenly only focus on her touch. "Don't think about it. I'm tougher than I look; I will not die quite so easily."
"Ayla . . ." he took her hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to her fingers. Didn't she realize how close she had been to dying? "You were . . . if Morrigan and Zevran hadn't been there . . ."
"But they were," she interrupted him, pulling her hand away from his. "You'll make yourself crazy if you think about it too much. We have lots to do still; think about that instead."
"All right," he said slowly as she settled herself down next to him again. "I'll try to think about something else."
What he found himself thinking about instead, as his eyes grew heavier and she fell asleep curled into his side, was that he'd finally decided he didn't want to wait any longer. He loved her; he wanted her to be his first, before it was too late. He would wait only until they got to Denerim; he wanted their first time together to be in a real bed, not on the forest floor or in some tent. He wanted to be able to lie together with her for as long as they wanted to afterward, with no armor between them. With that in mind, he finally drifted off to sleep.
They were now only one day away from returning to their base camp in the forest where the others were waiting. They had made it back to the Dalish camp without incident, where they had discovered that the curse had indeed been lifted from the elves. After finding out Zathrian's fate, which Aedan had sugar-coated to make him out to be a hero who had died to lift the curse, not the person who'd caused it all in the first place, Lanaya had taken over Zathrian's duties as Keeper of the clan, and had pledged the elves' aid to the blight in his place. She had also completely healed Ayla's remaining injuries.
Ayla had been very grateful for that; though she had refused to admit it to Alistair or anyone else, she had been hurting fairly badly. Though Morrigan had succeeded in healing any broken bones she might have had from her close call, the bruising that had been left was deep enough and painful enough to hinder her movement and abilities. As such, she'd agreed to Alistair's demands not to fight on the way back, only because she suspected she'd be more of a hindrance than a help, being unable to move at her usual speed or execute her moves the same.
She had, however, flatly refused to allow him to carry her when he'd brought it up, threatening to shift and run away if he did. He didn't know it had been an empty threat; in her condition, she doubted she ever would have been able to manage the change. But he'd believed her and given up on the issue, and fortunately, things had been fairly quiet on the way back to the Dalish. Her lack of fighting had not been much of a problem.
She was now back in top fighting form since Lanaya had healed her; any traces of lingering pain were completely gone. She'd thrown herself wholeheartedly into the few fights they'd run across since leaving the Dalish, since there were no longer any werewolves or anything to hold her back. It had felt great, being able to use her skills to their fullest again. And to his credit, Alistair had left well enough alone once Lanaya had pronounced her healed; he hadn't tried to hold her back or protect her, which she had been afraid he might.
Now, more than ever, she wasn't sure what to do with him. As much as she wanted to pretend she'd asked him to stay with her that night for his comfort only, she knew that wasn't true. It wasn't like she'd never had a brush with death before; in fact, she'd had several near misses and it had never bothered her much. But for whatever reason, this time, when she had awakened and Alistair had been there, so very worried about her, she'd felt in need of the comfort it seemed only he could give her.
The fact that she was now relying on him for comfort meant she was in far more danger with him than she'd ever suspected. The thought of how much she was coming to rely on him was terrifying for her; she didn't want to experience the terror he obviously had when she'd nearly died, or worse yet, the grief and pain. Part of her wanted to run far away from him and the way he made her feel.
But then, he would do something that would wipe any thoughts of running away right out of her head. That next morning, when she'd awakened in his arms again, no one else had been awake just yet, except for Zevran who'd been on watch with his back to them. He'd kissed her so thoroughly and passionately that the fire he'd ignited in her had chased away any regret she'd felt for asking him to stay with her or any thoughts of running. He'd only stopped kissing her when Zevran had seen and whistled.
Though he hadn't said anything, there had been a promise in his eyes when he'd pulled away that made her think she might be making progress on convincing him to lay with her. And if that was true, there was no way she was going to back away from him now. She wanted him too much for that; particularly since he had taken it into his head to kiss her senseless every time they had a minute alone since that morning. They hadn't had time to take things any further than that, but his kisses alone were enough to wind her up and leave her wanting; he'd proved himself to be a quick study in that area, and had become quite skilled at it. As soon as she had the opportunity, she was going to find out if he was ready to take things further.
She also wanted to talk to somebody about her feelings for him and what they meant, since she was getting seriously out of her depth with him. She'd come to the conclusion that Leliana would be the best person to ask; Morrigan would be scornful about any discussion about feelings, and it would be too awkward to ask Aedan. Leliana, however, was all about romance and feelings and might know just what it was Ayla needed to do to keep her heart intact. She would just need to find some time to talk with her alone once they reunited with the others.
She returned to the small clearing they'd decided to spend the night at to discover Aedan rooting through his pack. It looked like he might be organizing it, based on the fact that the entire contents of his pack seemed to be ending up spread out around him on the ground. Alistair and Zevran were out hunting for food at the moment, while Morrigan was gathering more herbs for potions, leaving only her and Aedan in the campsite.
"Looking for something in particular?" she asked, crouching down next to him on the ground, scanning the amazingly varied piles stacking up around him.
"Not really," he grunted, tossing a pouch of rough-hewn jewels over his shoulder. "Just trying to figure out how exactly my pack got so heavy, and how I might be able to lighten it."
"Well, it might help if you didn't pick up every shiny thing you saw like you were a bird," she remarked wryly. "Speaking of, what's that?"
He followed her gaze to an amulet sitting on top of a pile of other amulets, belts, and rings. It looked as though it had been broken and painstakingly glued back together. "Oh, that. It's an amulet of Andraste; I saw it in the Arl's study at Redcliffe and took it, along with a few other things." He grinned sheepishly and shrugged.
She shook her head and grinned. "Shame on you, Aedan! A nobleman's son being so light-fingered!"
"I didn't take anything really valuable," he defended himself, though he didn't look ashamed about it at all. "Just a few odds and ends I thought might be useful. I think he owes us, anyway."
"Did you say this is an amulet of that Andraste person?" she asked slowly, dangling the chain from her fingers.
"Yes, that's her in relief on the front of it," he answered, rooting through his bag again. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, it's just –" she spun the amulet around, trying to remember what sounded so familiar about it. "Wait, I remember now! Alistair mentioned something about an amulet of Andraste that was his mother's. He'd gotten angry at the Arl and broken it . . ." she trailed off.
Aedan had turned his head and was staring at her and the amulet. "That one looks like it was broken. Do you think that's the one he was talking about?"
She frowned, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. "It might be. Alistair seemed to think it was lost, but maybe the Arl found it . . ."
"And put it back together for him," Aedan finished. "It was in his study on his desk, after all. Why don't you give it to Alistair, see if it is his?"
"What?" She blinked at him, wondering what he was getting at with that oh-so-innocent look on his face. "Why me? You're the one who found it."
"Well, yes, but you're the one he told about his mother's amulet and the one who realized it might be his," Aedan pointed out. "It would mean more coming from you."
"I suppose . . ." It did make a certain kind of sense for her to be the one to ask him. And he had seemed so sad about losing the amulet when he'd talked about it; she knew how important it could be to have something left of the people you loved. "All right, I will." She tucked the amulet in her pouch and stood up. "I'll go get a fire started while you keep making a mess there."
He snorted, casting her a wry look. "I am not making a mess, I am organizing my pack. There is a difference, you know."
"Oh? It doesn't look like there is to me," she responded airily, winking at him before moving over to the center of the site, where she began to make a ring of stones for the fire. He laughed and shook his head before turning back to his pack.
It was later, after the others had returned and they had all finished their supper, that she pulled Alistair off into the forest a little ways, explaining that she wanted to talk to him in private before they all retired for the night and he went on first watch. "I . . . have something I wanted to show you," she told him.
"Oh?" He looked puzzled, even as a slow smile spread across his face. "Shouldn't we wait until we have a little more free time then?"
She laughed. "Why, did you think it was something dirty I was going to show you?"
He blushed. "Well, I don't know . . . you mean it isn't?"
She shook her head, still grinning. "No, actually, though that can be arranged some other time. It was this that I wanted to show you." She pulled the amulet out of her pouch, holding it up for him to see.
He took it from her, studying it for a few moments, his brow furrowed in confusion before his eyebrows suddenly shot up. "This - this is my mother's amulet. It has to be. But why isn't it broken? Where did you find it?"
He was looking at her with such wonder and joy that she felt her heart skip a beat, even as she felt that unusual warmth in her chest he seemed to invoke in her. She shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable being the focus of his attention. "I didn't find it, actually. Aedan did, in the Arl's study at Redcliffe castle. I noticed it when he was going through his things earlier today, and thought that it might be the one you were talking about."
"Oh, the Arl's study. Then he must have found the amulet after I threw it at the wall. And he repaired it and kept it? I don't understand, why would he do that?" He looked from the amulet back to her, confusion written across his face.
"He must have meant to give it back to you," Ayla replied. "It looks as though it would have taken him some time to put it back together; he wouldn't have done that for no reason."
"Maybe he did," Alistair said slowly, studying the amulet again before pulling it over his head. "He might even have brought it with him one of those times he came to see me at the monastery. Not that I would have given him a chance, as belligerent as I was to him. Thank you," he looked back up at her, his eyes shining. "I mean it. I . . . thought I'd lost this to my own stupidity. I'll need to talk to him about this. If he recovers from his . . . when he recovers, that is. I wish I'd had this a long time ago."
He took a step forward and pulled her into a hug. "It was nothing, really," she mumbled, embarrassed, trying to ignore how much she enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her as she hugged him back.
"Did you remember me mentioning it? Wow. I'm more used to people not really listening when I go on about things." He tightened his arms around her for a moment before stepping back, beaming down at her.
She frowned. "Why wouldn't I remember you mentioning it? It was obviously important to you, so that makes it worth remembering, doesn't it?"
He stared at her, his smile growing wider. "Just like that? It was important to me, so it was worth remembering?"
She stared back at him, puzzled. Why was this so surprising for him? Did he really think so little of himself that he had expected her not to be listening to him? "Of course. Anything that's important to you is important to me. That's just how it is."
This time, when he pulled her into his arms, he kissed her fiercely. She was happy to respond in kind as heat flooded her; she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body into his. Their tongues duelled together as he ravished her mouth, and he only pulled away when they could both no longer breathe, resting his forehead against hers. They stood together like that for a brief moment before he suddenly whispered, "I love you, Ayla."
"What?!" She pulled free of his embrace, stumbling back a few steps, staring at him in utter shock. She'd been so wrapped up with worry about her own feelings for him that she hadn't really stopped to think about how he might feel about her.
"I – I didn't tell you to make you say it back or anything," he explained hastily, taking a step towards her, frowning when she took a step back in panic. "Or – to pressure you or anything. I . . . just wanted you to know. And . . . maybe . . . to find out if you might ever . . . one day . . . feel the same way about me."
She wanted to run; her heart was pounding with panic. Goddess, how she wanted to run! She wanted to tell him she could never feel that way about him, that she only lusted for him, and then run far away from him and his hazel eyes and his strong arms. But looking at the hope on his face, she knew she could never hurt him that way. Knowing that made her realize that if she told him it was all about lust, she'd be lying to him and to herself. But what did that mean? "I – I don't know. I . . . feel something for you I've never felt before, but I don't know . . . what it is." How to explain herself? She was so bad at this sort of thing! "Well – we've never really talked about it, but you know I've been with other men before, right?"
He flinched, but he nodded, obviously wondering what she was getting at as she continued, "When I'm with you, it's . . . different from how it was with any of them. More . . . intense, I guess. Better. But I don't know what exactly that means. I – I need time to figure it out. I'm sorry."
He was smiling as he shook his head. Obviously she'd said something right, anyway. "Don't be sorry. Take all the time you need to figure it out. You've been so patient with me, I owe you." He hesitated, taking a few steps closer to her. "Do you want me to stay away from you completely while you figure it out? Because . . . I was thinking, when we get to Denerim, we could stay at an inn and . . . well . . . if you still wanted to . . ." He trailed off, his face flaming, not quite meeting her eyes anymore.
She suddenly had a completely inappropriate urge to laugh. If that wasn't just like him! He could so easily say he loved her, which to her was the most terrifying thing a person could say, but he couldn't even properly say he wanted to bed her. Part of her did want to tell him to stay away from her completely until she figured this out, but the part of her that lit on fire every time he kissed her could not possibly pass up on this opportunity. "Of course I still want to," she blurted out before she could think better of it. "But – if it's all right with you, could we just pretend you never said anything for now? Just continue on as before?"
He nodded, smiling again. "Of course, whatever you want. I'll take whatever you're willing to give me for now. And if you can give me more one day – then I'll count myself the luckiest man in Ferelden."
Oh, Goddess, why did he have to be so sweet? Why did he have to say things like that? She shook her head. "I think you'd be a lot luckier with someone other than me. I don't – I'm not as great as you think." If he knew the extent of just what she and her brother had done to those bandits, what would he think? Would he still love her then?
"Ayla, how could you think that?" He frowned as he reached for her, but she took a step back again.
"I just – can we talk later? I need to go clear my head, go out in the forest for a while." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. Seeing the worry in his eyes, she added, "I promise you I will come back. I just need some time to myself."
"All right," he said slowly, though the worried look didn't clear from his face. "Be careful, please."
She nodded. "I will." She turned and headed deeper into the forest. She would shift and run until she'd tired herself out, she decided, until she could maybe sort out this jumble of feelings inside her. And she most definitely needed to talk to Leliana, now more than ever. She could only hope that the bard could help her figure out what she needed to do.