As they traveled to war he had expected the companions remarks. Had expected their venom and accepted with little comment. They had a right to believe as they did, even though he had done what he thought must be done to save them all. but She never snarled at him, never snapped, never brought up the fact it had been his fault that her family was dead, that all of Ferelden burned because he had underestimated the Darkspawn.
Instead she offered comfort when he awoke from nightmares of the dragon. she made an effort to see past the cold calm veneer that he had worn for longer than he wanted, to learn why he had acted as he had.
Why? He wondered. Why would she waste her time on him? of all assembled she had one of the most powerful justifications to treat him as an enemy, yet she didn't. she was…civil, amusing. And inch by inch, broke him free of his self imposed silence.
He asked her about her family, once whilst they were sitting watch. Not because he truly wished to hear about them, but because he wanted her to remember why should hate him, why she should have let him die.
Had the roles been reversed he would have thought nothing of discarding her into the flames. and a sickening thought was that he had indeed thought nothing of casting her death.
But instead of tears, instead of the rage or hate he expected, and almost wanted, she gave him a sad smile. What followed was stories about her home, her father and mother, of her nanny and her tutor. She smiled when she spoke of Oren, her little nephew. But she didn't mention their fates. She didn't say how they died, or cast it back in his teeth that it had been his fault. instead she told him wonderful things. Of times when she had been happy. When she had lifted Oren, her nephew, onto her Mabari's broad shoulders and let him pretend to be a knight rescuing her, the fair princess, just to make him smile.
His already bruised heart twisted, he could not undo the mess he had made of her life, but she didn't hate him like she should. And he couldn't understand why.
They shared watches at camp. Partially, he thinks, because he truly believes the other companions would murder him if they got the chance, and partially because she seemed to be the only one willing to spend those quiet, almost endless nights with him.
As they traveled he grew to know more of her. The fear she hid with jokes, the pain she shielded with laughter. The more he learned, the more he found himself wanting to learn.
She had a quiet sort of courage. Whilst brave men shouted at their enemy to show they were not afraid, she simply stood resolute. Whilst she would not shout to show no fear, she would never falter. It had been that kind of courage, that quiet strength of will that had allowed her to gain the allegiance of an army no man had seen before. it had been what allowed her to survive when she should have died.