A/N: Well, one day late on the biweekly schedule isn't too bad. I had it mostly finished last night but had to do a little further tweaking today. Anyway, the majority of this chapter is fluff and smut. The smut begins after the song, which is in italics, and is done before the second break. So everything past the second break is pure DA plot for those of you that want to skip ahead. The next few chapters are going to be plot heavy and heavy in general. Lots of important things happen (both in DA plot and with my original additions) so I figured why not have a little bit of fluffy smutty fun before that?
As always, thanks to all those who have read, favorited, and followed the story so far. I'm glad you're all enjoying it! Special thanks go to Elyssa Cousland for being the only one to answer my review bribe ;). That being said, PLEASE REVIEW GUYS! Lack of feedback on the last couple of chapters is making me worry that the new stuff isn't any good. I need a little assurance please and thank you!
Anyway, hope you continue to enjoy, and continue reading - a lot will happen in the next few chapters following this!
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Dragon Age and related plot and characters. I do own Ayla and the rest of this story, however.
Chapter 24: Head Over Feet
When Ayla awoke the next morning, she felt both deliciously sore and utterly comfortable. They'd been together four more times throughout the night, and Alistair had learned as quickly as ever, seeming to take special care to memorize what she liked best and then reuse that throughout the night. She had, of course, returned the favour. If she was being honest with herself, she had to admit it was the best night she'd ever had. What she'd told Alistair before was true; being with him was somehow different and better than it had ever been before, though she didn't understand why that was. Not that it mattered, anyway, she told herself; last night had been well worth the wait.
It had to be late morning by now, judging by the sunlight that streamed through the gaps in the red curtains into the room. Though Aedan had said they were leaving today, he hadn't set a specific time, saying they could sleep in while they had the chance; there would be no more beds on the way to Haven. However, she suspected someone would come looking for them soon, which meant she should get up.
She did not want to, though. She felt more comfortable than she could ever remember being in a long time, curled in the soft bed with a naked and sleeping Alistair wrapped around her back. He was holding her in the same fashion he had been that previous morning in his tent, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and his leg tangled in with hers, his head tucked atop hers. She could feel his heart beating steadily and soothingly against her. She could get used to waking up like this, she decided.
She was feeling so calm and happy at the moment that the thought did not even panic her as it would ordinarily have done. She didn't just enjoy bedding him; she enjoyed sleeping in his arms, too. In fact, she was going to make a point of doing so from now on. Why not just take Leliana's advice and enjoy every moment possible with him?
It really was time to get up, though, she thought with a sigh. She tried to gently disentangle herself from Alistair's arms so she could get out of bed without waking him, giving him a few more minutes of sleep. She needn't have bothered; his arm tightened around her as soon as she tried to move, hauling her back against him as he mumbled something incoherently into her hair.
"We need to get up, Alistair," she pointed out, tugging ineffectually at his arm.
"No," he replied, his voice thick with sleep in a way that made her shiver. "I don't want to."
She smiled, both pleased and amused at his response. "Someone will come looking for us soon."
"Don't care," he grumbled. "I want to stay here with you." As if to emphasize his point, his hand that was splayed on her stomach pushed her hips back further against his, causing her breath to hiss out through her teeth at the realization he was ready to go again.
She bit her lip, trying to steady out her breathing as thought of something that she knew would distract him. "It looks like Morrigan was right."
"Morrigan?" he yelped, scrambling back from her, now fully awake. "What has that witch been telling you?!"
She sat up, turning to face him. He looked so sexy, with his strawberry-blonde hair dishevelled, his eyes wide, and stubble growing across his jaw. Not to mention that wonderfully muscular body of his. How could it be possible to want him again so much and so soon? "Oh, she was just telling me that Grey Wardens appear to have impressive stamina," she replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I thought she was exaggerating, but obviously she wasn't."
"Impressive stamina?" he repeated, eyebrows raised, obviously completely confused now. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She was able to keep from laughing, though just barely. "Well, most men wouldn't be able to recover quite so quickly, or . . . perform quite so many times in one night. It appears Grey Wardens can add increased stamina in bed to their list of skills." She grinned broadly as he turned red.
"So . . ." he said slowly, eyeing her, "that's a good thing, right?"
She did laugh this time. "A very good thing. You have definitely impressed me." She winked at him.
He was still red, but smiling now as he reached for her. "Have I, now? Maybe I should impress you again."
She swatted his hand away, though not without regret. "Don't you dare!" she exclaimed. "We have to get ready to leave!"
He pouted at her. "Come on," he wheedled. "No one will notice if we take just a little bit longer. Please?"
"No," she said, trying to be stern and ignore the heat in his hazel eyes. "Besides, I'm not sure I'm fully recovered yet." She got out of the bed, unable to stop the slight wince as she straightened up. It had been a while, after all, and certainly never that many times in one night.
"Ayla!" His expression was completely contrite now as he was across the bed in an instant to stand at her side, wrapping a supporting arm around her. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry!"
"No, I'm fine," she hastened to reassure him, feeling guilty that she'd worried him. "Just a little sore, that's all. Nothing to worry about."
"Oh." He looked relieved, though he didn't let go of her. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," she replied, slipping out of his grasp as she headed across the room. If he kept touching her, she was definitely never going to want to leave. "Now we really do have to get ready to go."
"All right," he agreed reluctantly, following her to where they'd left their packs and armor before heading down to the tavern last night.
They cleaned themselves up quickly before they began to get dressed, donning their armor this time instead of their casual clothing. Ayla was done before Alistair, and began helping him get on the new suit of full plate armor Aedan had picked up for him at the smith's, which was far heavier than his previous armor, and had more buckles and straps as well.
"So . . ." Alistair began hesitantly, as she pulled tight one of the buckles and began working on another piece, "what now? Where do we go from here?"
She frowned, puzzled as to what exactly he was talking about. "What do you mean? We're going to Haven, aren't we?"
"No, I meant –" he let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. "Where do you and I go from here?"
"Oh." She chewed on her lip, her heart pounding nervously, trying to think of what to say as she concentrated on his armor, not looking him in the eyes. What should she say? What did he want her to say? She still didn't know if she was in love with him or not, but she also knew she wanted many more nights like last night. "Could we not . . . keep going as we have been? Only, putting your tent to better use this time?"
He let out a breath, and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him. "Does that mean you want to stay with me?" He looked unusually serious, but his hazel eyes were warm, giving her that bubbly feeling again.
"Well, I-I guess," she stammered, cursing the fact that she wasn't better at this. "I mean . . . don't you want to spend more nights like last night?"
He smiled warmly down at her, his hazel eyes darkening, even as he looked a little sad. "Of course I do. I want whatever time I can have with you." He kissed her lightly before letting go of her chin. "You know the rest of our little party here is going to talk, right?"
"Let them," she said cheerfully, returning to his armor and safer ground, feeling both relieved that he'd changed the subject and guilty that she obviously hadn't said exactly what he wanted to hear. "I have plenty of material to blackmail them with, especially Aedan."
He laughed, and her heart lightened at how happy he sounded as she finished securing the last strap. "You see? This is why I love you."
She almost gasped at his words as her previous panic and nerves returned with a crash, looking up at his wide eyes. He obviously hadn't meant to let that slip out, judging by the alarm she saw reflected there. "Alistair . . . are you sure you really love me?" she asked hesitantly, trying to steady her racing heart. Maybe it was time to talk about his feelings, at least a little bit, before she got any deeper. She truly didn't understand how he could feel that way about her, and how he'd just seemed to know. "Are you sure you're not just . . . grateful, maybe, or confused, because I'm your first?"
"What?" he snapped, grabbing her tightly by the shoulders. She looked up; his mouth was set and his eyes were blazing. "Do you honestly think that just because you're the first woman I've been with, that I'm some confused, naïve child who doesn't know how he feels?!"
"Alistair, no, I'm sorry," she sighed, exasperated with herself and her inability to identify or express her feelings properly. "That's not what I meant . . . I just . . . I don't understand . . . how do you know?" How does anyone know? How am I supposed to know?
His grip on her shoulders loosened as the anger drained out of his face. "Oh. I'm sorry," he blew out a breath and she shook her head to let him know he didn't need to apologize. He cupped her face in his hands gently. "Well – I've never felt about any woman the way I feel about you. Not the women I found attractive before I met you; not even a demon pretending to be you. No one makes me feel the way you do. And, if something happens to you, I don't think I would be able to survive it. That's how I know."
She gripped his wrists, pulling his hands away, and looked up at him, confused, even as her heart was inexplicably light and dancing. "What do you mean, a demon that's pretending to be me?"
He twined his hands gently through hers, even as he looked away, flushing. "Well – I was trapped in a different illusion before that one you found me in. There was a demon pretending to be you. When she – it – kissed me," his face turned even redder, "it wasn't the same. Even though I really thought it was you, it didn't feel the same at all. That's how I broke free of that illusion – I knew it couldn't really be you."
Ayla thought back to her own illusion. The impostor Alistair had never actually kissed her in the short time she'd been trapped in it; the thing had touched her once or twice, and she realized Alistair was right. It hadn't felt the same as it did when he touched her. There wasn't that same spark of fire, or feeling of comfort, or any of that. In fact, she'd had an odd feeling about the impostor, but before she'd been able to place it, her father had appeared, which had completely taken her focus away from anything else.
So, what did it all mean? Because no man had ever made her feel the way Alistair had, she knew that much. And he claimed that was how he knew he loved her. That and he wouldn't survive it if he lost her. Did she – could she – truly love him? Before she could think further on it, however, a knock came at the door.
"Are you two done yet?" Aedan shouted through the door. "Because if you don't come out in the next five minutes, I swear I will get Zevran to pick the lock and come in!"
The elf's chuckle drifted through the door. "If you wish to keep going, I assure you I would not mind. I am certain it would be quite a sight."
Ayla couldn't help but laugh as Alistair sighed and rolled his eyes, the tension of the previous moment dissolving quickly. "Do you understand now?" he asked her quietly, squeezing her hands.
She nodded. "I do, and I believe you." She did, now; seeing the conviction in his eyes as he'd told her how he knew, and the warmth that still lingered there even now, she knew he meant what he said. But – "I still need time to think about . . . how I feel."
He smiled before he bent his head and kissed her, slowly, gently, leaving her tingling. "I can wait, as I promised. I didn't mean to say it again before you were ready. We will keep going as before, only with me impressing you with my stamina." He winked at her. "Right?"
She laughed, relieved that he continued to understand her so well, and that he was being so patient with her. "Right. And with only one tent for the two of us."
Aedan began loudly counting outside the door, causing Alistair to turn and shout, "By Andraste's flaming sword, Aedan! We will be right out!"
There was a second of shocked silence on the other side of the door before Aedan and Zevran started laughing. Seeing the half-annoyed, half-amused look on Alistair's face as they gathered up their remaining belongings, Ayla couldn't help laughing herself.
They reached the door and Alistair jerked it open. Aedan and Zevran were still waiting out there, though they had managed to get their laughter under control. "Ah, already dressed, I see," Zevran sighed in disappointment as they both emerged in the hallway. "Here I was hoping to see both of you naked."
"W-what?" Alistair spluttered, turning red. Ayla bit on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as the other two dissolved into laughter again at the look on Alistair's face. He pointed a finger sternly at them both. "One more word out of the two of you and I'm feeding you both to the darkspawn."
This only caused them to laugh harder as Ayla took his arm and led him down the hallway. "Come on, let's go find the others," she urged, trying to keep the laughter out of her own voice. "We have a long way to go to get to Haven." He nodded and let her lead him, and as she studied his profile, she sincerely hoped that somewhere along that journey, she would finally be able to figure out how she felt about him.
They were a week out of Denerim, and hopefully halfway to Haven, Alistair thought as he made his way down to the river to bathe. They'd made camp for the night, and as they'd run into a band of darkspawn earlier, he wanted to get all the blood and grime off him for the night. Especially since he would be sharing a tent with Ayla later. They'd abandoned all pretense of keeping separate tents since they left Denerim; every night since his tent had become their tent and hers no longer got set up.
It had been the best week of his life, really. It was the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life, having her in his arms every night, waking up to her every morning. The only thing that could possibly have made this week better was if he could be completely certain she felt the same way.
He was pretty certain she felt the same way, given all his evidence from Denerim. Her jealousy, that kiss, the fact that she'd said she only wanted him; but she'd never said the words he really wanted to hear. And though she had said she wanted to stay with him, she hadn't really said that in the way he wanted to hear, either. There had been no talk of always or forever; only many more nights.
But when he'd explained how he knew he loved her, he thought he'd seen a spark of recognition in her eyes. At least, up until they'd been interrupted by Aedan. He'd been annoyed with Aedan for days over that; also because Aedan and Zevran had taken every opportunity to tease him about Ayla since then. Well, Aedan had finally stopped after Ayla had caught him at it and whispered something in his ear that made him turn bright red; but she hadn't found any way to make Zevran stop yet. But in all honesty, he enjoyed the teasing as much as he found it annoying; he thought having brothers must be rather like that, and it reminded him of the way the other Wardens had been around each other. So he was willing to leave it alone, for now, anyway.
He suddenly caught the sound of a woman singing as he approached the river. He frowned, and was about to turn back, in case it was one of the other women, but he realized it was Ayla's voice. He froze in his tracks, then crept a little closer, able to walk quietly for once as he wasn't wearing his armor. He slipped carefully around the last stand of trees that was between him and the river, and finally had an unobstructed view from the bank.
He couldn't see her just yet; she must be a little further down the river. He'd thought she was out hunting with Morrigan, and hadn't intended to come upon her bathing, but he couldn't say he exactly regretted it. He heard splashing as she came closer, and he could finally make out the words she was singing. It wasn't one of the fast-paced songs that she normally taught Leliana; no, this sounded like . . . a love song.
You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was
You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault
Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for *
Was she singing this song because this was how she felt about him? Alistair wondered, shocked and hopeful. Before he could think on it further, she came into view, drifting on her back on the water, completely nude. The sun was setting, but not down completely yet, which meant he could still see every beautiful curve clearly. All thoughts fled his mind as the blood in his body flowed straight south; he gasped with the force of his sudden want for her.
Some part of him had thought that after he'd finally lain with her, he wouldn't want her quite so badly. This had proven itself completely false over the last week; if anything, his desire for her had only become worse. He could barely control himself anymore from wanting her at the most inopportune times. If he didn't wear full plate armor most of the time, he would likely have already taken her up against a tree on the side of the road more than once. She seemed to be similarly affected; he'd caught her green eyes blazing with want at him more than once in the middle of the day, which didn't help his control any. And, of course, they had made rather excellent use of the tent many times already.
It didn't seem to matter how often they were together, though. His want for her never lessened, and even though he'd just made love to her last night, right at this moment, it felt like an eternity since he'd last touched her.
"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me all night, Alistair?" Her voice snapped him out of his daze and he realized she was standing up in the water now, covered up to her neck, looking up at him. He couldn't quite make out her expression as her back was to the sun, but she didn't sound angry. "Because I'd really rather you come and join me."
That was all he needed to hear; he raced down to the river, shedding his clothes as he went before jumping in the water. He sucked in a breath as the cold water washed over him; it wasn't unbearably cold yet, but it was still a shock to his system. Autumn was fast approaching, and the days and nights were getting steadily cooler; he was going to have to get used to a lot more cold baths in the river.
After taking a moment to gather himself, he ducked his head under the water on his way over to Ayla, and used the bar of soap he'd managed to remember to bring into the water with him to rinse the grime and darkspawn blood off his face and anywhere else it had landed first, before tossing the soap back to the riverbank. He didn't want to chance touching her with tainted blood still on him. "How did you know I was there?" he asked as he stopped a foot away from her.
"Well, it is true that for once you weren't making a ridiculous amount of noise," she teased him, grinning. "I actually didn't realize you were there until I caught your scent on the wind. Then I noticed you just staring at me and drooling, so . . ."
"Drooling?" he exclaimed, pretending to be offended, though in truth he wouldn't have been surprised if he had been. In fact, he couldn't seem to stop staring at her right now, with her long hair dripping wet over her shoulders, her lips curving into a wicked smile, and her eyes full of heat as she stared back at him. His eyes drifted down as he wished he could see more of her, but she was covered by the water now. "I was just surprised to see you. I thought you'd gone hunting with Morrigan."
"Oh, well I can if you're disappointed to find me here." She went as if to move past him, but he caught her arm and hauled her up against him. Neither of them was able to stifle their moans as their bodies came into contact below the water. "I was . . . going to go with her," she managed breathlessly. "But she wanted to go alone."
"Good," Alistair muttered, letting go of her arm to trail his hand up into her wet hair. Tangling his hand in it, he pulled her mouth up to his, kissing her slowly, deeply, savouring the taste of her. He pulled away briefly. "I'd rather the two of us were alone together."
"Me too," she whispered, snaking her hand up around his neck to pull his mouth back down to hers.
The kiss was slow and tender at first, but as she pressed her body flush against his, he couldn't stop himself from the sudden fierce desperation that swept through him and he took the kiss deeper. She responded in kind as they kissed fiercely, duelling for control over the kiss as it went back and forth. She was the first to break away so they could both breathe.
Before he had fully recovered, she was nibbling on his earlobe and trailing kisses down his neck. He would never get enough of this, he decided through his haze of passion. Even if he lived as long as the taint allowed him, he would always want the feel of her lips on him, her bare skin and soft curves pressed tightly against his body. He had, just as her song said, fallen head over feet for her. In this moment, he didn't care if she felt exactly the same way or not, or even if someone saw them; he only cared that she was in his arms.
He slid his hands over her body as she continued kissing her way down his. He cupped her backside, feeling her moan against his chest as he did so; he skimmed his hands along the curve of her hips and waist, up past the sides of her breasts. She rocked her hips against him, causing him to groan in response; he wanted nothing more than to be inside of her again. He was achingly hard, and not sure how much longer he could control himself as she nibbled down his chest and scraped her nails down his back.
But he wanted her to be as out of control as he was first. He pulled back from her enough to slip his hand between their bodies and straight between her legs. She gasped as he cupped her, stroking her slowly. "Alistair," she whimpered, burying her face in his chest.
He slid a finger in her, delighting in the strangled noise she made as he did so, and marvelling at the heat of her even underwater. She balanced herself on his shoulders as he slid another finger in and began to move them in and out as she moved her hips in time with his fingers. When he added his thumb to circle that sensitive bundle of nerves she had, she cried out and began to shudder. She reached down and grabbed his arm. "Stop," she panted. "I can't wait any longer. I need you now."
He pulled his hand away, and used his hands on her bottom to lift her up as she braced herself on his shoulders again. "Thank the Maker," he whispered in her ear as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "I couldn't wait any longer either."
They both shuddered as she slid herself down onto him, hooking her legs behind him. He thrust further up into her, loving the feel of her warm, welcoming heat as he pulled back slightly and pushed back into her again. She began rocking against him in turn, matching his rhythm with ease as they picked up speed. Wanting to make sure she went first, which was something he was becoming increasingly determined about, he kept her up with one arm while snaking his other hand between their bodies and finding her sensitive spot again.
"Oh, Alistair," she moaned, throwing her head back as he rubbed her with slow, steady circles again. The sight of her like that, water dripping down her body, and the way she moaned his name was nearly enough to make him lose control. He growled low in his throat as he picked up speed with his fingers and never stopped moving his hips. She dug her nails into his back and kept up with him as he felt her start to convulse around him.
He pressed down suddenly and firmly and she exploded around him, leaning over him and biting down hard on his shoulder as she did so. "Ayla!" he cried out as a shaft of lust pierced through him from the pleasure-pain of her bite, and it was enough to send him over the edge as well, as he shuddered into her until he was drained.
Barely able to stand afterwards, he stumbled backwards with her still wrapped around him until the river was shallow enough for him to sit down. He sank down and she let go of him, but only to turn around and sit between his legs with her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder, willing his breathing to even out as he inhaled the scent of her hair, a combination of the outdoors, the river and the flowery soap she favored.
"Why is it that I want you more every time I see you?" he murmured against her neck after they had sat in silence for several minutes.
"I don't know," she replied quietly, leaning her head back against him, "but I feel the same way. In fact, you should wear less armor so next time I don't have to wait until we get back to camp."
He chuckled, kissing her neck lightly. "I would if I could, believe me. But I also need to protect those parts you want to make use of."
She laughed in response. "I suppose you do. Well, I can control myself during the day, I suppose."
"Tell you what," he said thoughtfully. "Once we get the Urn and cure Arl Eamon, we'll spend a whole day in Redcliffe in bed. I'm sure Aedan will give us a couple of days to rest before we go to Orzammar."
"A whole day in bed?" She twisted in his arms to look up at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Are you certain you're up to keeping that promise?"
"Absolutely, my lady," he told her, adding teasingly, "Unless you'd rather I controlled myself and did training exercises instead of thinking how beautiful you look when you wear nothing at all."
She smacked him lightly on the chest, laughing. "No, you do enough training with the sword. I think you need to do some training exercises with me instead. I intend to hold you to that promise."
He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. "Your wish is my command."
She grinned wickedly at him. "Good. How soon until we get to Haven? Another week?"
"At least," he said with a sigh, wishing it was sooner as he thought of a soft bed at Redcliffe with her in it. "Maybe longer. The map is a little vague; we don't have the exact location."
"Not to worry," she replied. "I'm sure Morrigan and I can scout it out easily enough. Then we will get your Arl back."
He cupped her cheek gently, drawing her face into his for a kiss. "Thank you," he said softly, touched by her willingness to help him. I love you, he added silently. He didn't want to say it out loud again, not until she was ready to hear it. If that day ever came.
"You're welcome." She kissed him back, sweetly, tenderly, renewing his hope. They spent the rest of that night trying to get enough of each other to avoid temptation on the rest of their journey to Haven.
"The village of Haven lies up this path," Morrigan informed them.
Between her and Ayla, it had only taken an extra two days after they had reached the mountains to discover the whereabouts of the small village of Haven, for which Ayla was grateful. They were running low on supplies, and the mountains were damnably cold, especially as she was used to the warmer climate of Fallor.
It was early morning, and though the sun had risen, there was still a significant bite in the air. Ayla had wrapped her pantherskin cloak overtop of the drake-scale armor Aedan had gifted her with, custom-made by the smith in Denerim. The smith had only been able to make one set of armor, and though it protected well against fire, it was a lighter set of armor similar to her leathers not suitable for himself or Alistair. Therefore, he had decided to gift it to her, as the only other fighter with no real long range capability. She'd decided she liked it better than the leathers; it was even more flexible and yet sturdier against weapons. However, it was not any warmer, causing her to spend most of the last week wrapped in her cloak when she wasn't fighting.
Aedan gestured for the party to follow him up the path; they were all relieved they'd finally found Haven. They reached the top of the narrow, stone path, which opened out into the village itself. It appeared to be comprised of several small wooden and stone buildings, set on different levels of the mountainside, with winding paths connecting each level. A heavily armed man in splintmail armor stood at the entrance to the village. He frowned as they approached. "What are you doing in Haven? There's nothing for you here."
Aedan raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised by the rude welcome. "We have business here."
"No, you do not," the guard replied curtly. "I would have been informed if someone was expecting . . . a visitor."
Since when does a village need to schedule its visitors? Ayla wondered. She glanced at the others, who looked equally confused, and couldn't shake the sudden sense that this venture of theirs was not going to go smoothly at all.
"Well, they weren't exactly expecting us," Aedan said slowly. Glancing back at everyone briefly, he went on, "Is there a Brother Genitivi here?"
The guard's eyes narrowed briefly before his expression smoothed out into careful disinterest. "Who? Perhaps Revered Father Eirik would know of whom you speak. Unfortunately, he is ministering to the villagers at the moment, and cannot be disturbed."
"A Revered Father, huh?" Alistair looked surprised and thoughtful as he studied the guard. "That's new. I wonder what this means . . ." Noticing Ayla's confused look, he explained, "Priests of the Chantry are almost always women. I've never heard of a Revered Father before, only a Revered Mother."
"It has always been thus in Haven. We do not question tradition," the guard interrupted in an annoyed tone. Judging by the looks on everyone else's faces, though, Ayla could tell this wasn't a tradition any of them had ever heard of.
Aedan shrugged, seeming to accept the fact the guard wasn't going to be of any help to them. "Very well then. Excuse us."
The guard cast one last suspicious glance over the group before stating, "You may trade for supplies at the shop if you wish. Then I suggest you and your companions leave."
"Come on, let's go," Aedan gestured to the others to follow as he went further into the village.
"Did it just get a lot colder?" Alistair muttered as they got out of earshot of the guard. "Or is it just me?"
"They are hiding something," Morrigan remarked, glancing around at the villagers who were scurrying out of their way and avoiding eye contact. "'Tis obvious."
"Hiding what, though?" Ayla asked in a low voice. "The Urn?"
"If we're lucky, yes," Aedan replied. "Let's go to the shop, pick up some supplies and maybe information, and if we don't get anything out of that, we'll go up to the Chantry and talk to this Revered Father of theirs. See if he knows where Brother Genitivi is."
Sten suddenly stepped in front of Aedan, blocking his path, folding his massive arms across his chest. Uh-oh, here it comes, Ayla thought. Sten had been getting increasingly vocal with his displeasure regarding their current mission over the last few days.
"Interesting strategy," Sten observed scornfully. "Tell me, do you intend to keep going north until it becomes south, and attack the archdemon from the rear?"
Aedan sighed in exasperation. "We've been over this and over this, Sten. This is necessary."
Sten scowled. "Is it? I see. I was mistaken, then. I thought we were climbing a mountain in the middle of nowhere on some frivolous whim of yours."
"Is there a point to this conversation, Sten?" Aedan demanded. "What do you want?"
"Reason," the qunari said shortly. "The archdemon is our goal, and we are heading away from it to find the charred remnants of a dead woman. I will not simply follow in your shadow as you run from battle."
Aedan ran a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. "Well, you don't have to follow me if you don't want to. You're welcome to leave if you like, but I'm in charge and we're going to go look for the Urn."
"Not anymore. I'm taking command," Sten stated coolly.
Aedan spread his hands wide and shrugged. "It's a shame it came to this, but I'm not giving up command to you."
"Defend yourself, Warden," Sten snarled, reaching for his sword. "We will settle this."
Aedan drew his greatsword, facing off with the qunari. "So be it."
Alistair reached for his weapon as well, as the first clash of swords from the two sounded, but Ayla stopped him. "No, let Aedan handle this." She shook her head at Leliana, as well, who was fitting an arrow to her bow. Zevran was merely watching with avid curiosity to see who would win, Morrigan was scowling at Sten but staying out of it, and Wynne was drinking a lyrium potion, presumably to prepare for the upcoming healing. Striker was whimpering off to the side of the battle; the war hound had bonded with Sten and was clearly confused as to why his master and new best friend were trying to kill each other.
Alistair looked down at her, shocked. "What?! Why?"
"If you step in to help Aedan, you'll only prove to Sten that he is right and Aedan isn't worthy of leading the party," Ayla explained. She'd seen her own father deal with mutinies twice throughout his career as Captain, and he'd always told her that the leader must deal with such things on his own. Leaning on anyone else would only prove a leader's lack of worth, he had said. Sten seemed to operate on a similar policy to the shifters, which was that he would not follow anyone he deemed weaker or less worthy than himself. Aedan had to prove his worth.
"But what if Sten kills him?" Alistair hissed.
"If it looks like it is going to go badly, then we will step in," Ayla whispered back. "But not before."
"All right," Alistair murmured reluctantly, watching the fight. "If you say so."
Ayla didn't think Aedan would have a problem dealing with Sten. Certainly, the qunari warrior was larger and stronger than any member of their party, but he was also slow and tended to put rather a lot of effort behind his blows, making them easy for anyone with a modicum of speed to dodge. Aedan, meanwhile, had been working with both herself and Zevran to increase his speed and agility, and while he wore full armor, he favoured a lighter style than either Alistair or Sten. As long as he took care not to try to match Sten's strength or take any of his blows head on, she didn't think he would have a problem.
As she watched, Aedan easily ducked and rolled away from one of Sten's blows, and spun to strike the qunari full across his back. Sten grunted and staggered forward, but the blow wasn't enough to make him fall; he turned and swung at Aedan again, but Aedan was already moving to dodge and strike another blow.
The battle continued in that fashion for a few more minutes; Sten was able to get in a few glancing blows, but with Aedan constantly on the move, he fortunately didn't land anything serious. Aedan finally struck a clean blow through a gap in Sten's armor, causing the qunari to stumble to one knee as blood spilled out, and pressed his sword to Sten's throat. "Are you quite finished now, Sten?" he demanded coolly.
The qunari held up his hands and dropped his sword, dipping his head in acknowledgment. "I was wrong. You are strong enough. What now?"
Aedan shook his head as he wiped off his sword before sheathing it. "It's not just about strength, Sten. But if that's what it takes to make you fall in line, so be it. Now get up and let's go."
Sten struggled to his feet and sheathed his own sword as well. "As you wish."
"Wynne, can you take care of his wound?" Aedan asked, gesturing to the blood still oozing out of the gap in Sten's armor. "Catch up with us when you're done; we'll be at the shop."
"If you insist," Wynne sniffed, stopping by Sten's side to begin casting her magic.
The rest of them followed Aedan up the hill to the next level of the village. As soon as they were out of Sten's sight, Aedan pressed a hand to his side, muttering, "Maker, he might not have me bleed, but I'm fairly certain he cracked a rib or two."
"Foolish men," Morrigan sighed, laying a glowing hand on Aedan's side to heal him. He smiled at her gratefully, a relieved look passing over his face as the magic coursed through him.
"Are you sure it's wise to let him keep travelling with us?" Alistair asked uncertainly. "How do you know he won't just attack you again?"
"He won't," Ayla replied before Aedan had a chance to. "He's quite honourable in his own way; that was a test to see if Aedan was worthy. He passed it, so I expect that will be the end of it."
"I think you're right," Aedan nodded in agreement. "At least, I hope so. I have no desire to go through that again."
"I don't believe any of us have any desire to watch you go through that again, either," Leliana added from the back of the group.
They had reached the shop by this time; it looked the same as any other house in the village, except for the sign hanging above the door. "Let's get some supplies, then, shall we?" Aedan opened the door.
They all followed him, and Ayla sighed with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief as the scent hit her nose before the door had even closed behind them. Not another dead body. It was obvious that something was even more wrong in this village than they'd initially suspected. She was going to make sure to find out just what was going on, and find that Urn if it was here, for Alistair's sake if for no other reason. She was going to save Arl Eamon for him, no matter the cost.
*Lyrics are taken from Alanis Morrisette's song Head Over Feet. I hadn't really intended to put another song in this fic, but it described Ayla's feelings so perfectly I couldn't help it :).